Following my post a couple of days ago about DorkySon’s relationship with Binky, I got into a conversation online with another Mum, whose daughter had a similar relationship with her imaginary friend Polla. The mum, Lisa Farrell, very kindly agreed to do a guest post on Polla, which is below. Lisa doesn’t have a blog (although perhaps she should…!) but you can follow her on Twitter here.
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Tag Archives: relationships
Transition
This time a week ago, we were tucked into a wonderful – really wonderful – room at the Malmaison in Edinburgh. DorkyDad was using the free WiFi to check his emails; I was chilling out on the massive bed. Our request for breakfast in the room was hanging outside the door.
Our ‘last supper’ that evening had been at Fishers in Leith. DorkySon tasted sticky toffee pudding for the first time in his life. We drank wine, and had a wee wander along the Shore before heading back to our room, which looked out onto the twinkling water. Someone, somewhere, was setting off fireworks.
Earlier that day, a big truck had pulled up outside our house. DorkySon was beside himself with excitement. He said hello and shook hands with Andy, Mickey and Norrie – three perfectly named removal men – before I took him to spend the day down in Portobello with his Granny. I didn’t think he needed to see his life being packed into boxes.
We didn’t need to see that either, really. I distracted myself by making the guys endless cups of tea, and hoovering the empty rooms. DorkyDad and I went to say cheerio to some of the shopkeepers in Marchmont who have become good friends. There was a lot of backslapping and ‘it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later’.
I can’t believe that was only a week ago. Tonight we are sitting in the living room in our new place. I haven’t committed our new address to memory yet, but when I emailed it out to friends I got several replies saying that even Eliza Doolittle would struggle to say it correctly. There are a lot of aitches.
It has been a busy week. Two hotels, two trains, too many taxis to count, DorkySon’s first sighting of a red London bus, several large glasses of wine, and a lot of Peppa Pig videos on the iPad.
Mickey came back tonight – and packed some of our stuff back into the truck. Our table wouldn’t fit through the door of the new flat. Nor would my wardrobe; and there is no room for most of our books. They are going into storage for six months, somewhere near Dartford, until we find our forever house.
This is not a forever house, but it is fine, for now. It is comfy, and cosy. DorkySon has already taken over the hallway with his trucks. We have music in the kitchen; fresh flowers in the window (thanks Mum), and some of our pictures are up on the walls.
A new place always takes time to get used to. I planned today’s activities around a trip to the library, and DorkySon was jumping up and down with excitement at the thought of finding some new truck books. When we got there we discovered that it is, inexplicably, closed on Wednesdays. But instead we went for a walk and found a duck pond, and then a grand wee playground with a pirate ship.
I have been bowled over by the generous welcome of other mums in the area. We only got our internet connected yesterday, and from the one email I sent introducing myself on the local NCT list, I’ve already had a dozen replies with offers of coffee and walks to the park. I got chatting to someone in the queue at WH Smith this morning, and came away with a nursery recommendation.
God knows there have been a couple of wobbly moments. I am trying hard to define this new place by what it is – and the kindness of strangers makes that so much easier, I can’t wait to hear some personal recommendations for places to go – but I have had one or two moments when I’ve only been able to define it by what it’s not. It’s not the house I’m used to. Michael is not my butcher any more, Eddie is not my fishmonger anymore, and after tonight, the removal men are not coming back. It’s not Edinburgh. Not Scotland. And my Mum doesn’t live down the road anymore.
As DorkySon would say, that smells like poo.
But I think if we get some more pictures on the walls, and I reply to all those lovely friendly emails, and we go to the library on Thursday next time instead of Wednesday, we might just be alright here. It’s a big old adventure, and I’m willing to give it a shot.
I was planning on having a load of photos to go with this post – I kept my camera away from the removal men, with the intention of documenting our journey – but then I left it switched on all night by accident and ran the battery down before we’d even left the hotel in Edinburgh. I discovered that on the train, just as we were passing Cockenzie and DorkySon jumped up, pointed out the window and said “Look, look, it’s Granny’s ocean!”
That was the first of the wobbly moments. I’m hoping there aren’t too many more to come.
Reasons to be Cheerful
We are celebrating two anniversaries in the Dorky House this week. If that’s not a reason to be cheerful (and an excuse for lots of cake and champagne) I don’t know what is!
Yesterday was our fourth wedding anniversary. In honour of the occasion, I finally hauled my mud and beer stained wedding dress out of the wardrobe, and sent it to be cleaned and boxed. I’m struggling to decide what to do with it next – I’m tempted to shove the box under the bed and keep it for some ‘just in case’ moment in the future. But I also think it’d be nice to give it to charity and let someone else get some use out of it. I’m going to keep pondering it for a while.
We took some during the week to look back through our wedding photos, which were taken by the lovely and brilliant guys at Jack Photography. And by happy coincidence, when I was rearranging some computer files, I found the epic wedding recap that I wrote shortly afterwards… all 2000 words of it!
I can’t believe how many things I’d forgotten; like the fact that I broke the zip on my bridesmaid’s dress half an hour before we were due to leave; and that the minister messed up the words and asked me if I’d take DorkyDad to be my ‘lawful wedded wife’. “Umm, no,” I said. “But I’ll take him to be my lawful wedded husband!” I’d forgotten that one of our guests joined the band for an impromptu session playing the spoons, and that shortly after leaving the wedding he was dragged back by his wife, having pocketed those spoons and forgotten about them. I’d forgotten just how good our food was, how my feet hurt from dancing and how my cheeks ached from smiling.
I’m one of those annoying people who can honestly say that their wedding day was one of the happiest of their life. No drama, very little stress, just a lovely time surrounded by family and friends… and the knowledge that it was the start of something special. The last four years have passed so quickly, and been packed so full of interesting events – I can’t wait to see where we are another four from now.
Our second anniversary this week was marking 6 months since DorkySon started nursery. It seems strange to admit it now, because those two mornings a week at nursery are so much part of our routine, but at the time it was definitely the hardest decision I’d made as a parent.
I had intended to stay a full time parent until he turned three and started his funded nursery place, but as he approached 2nd birthday in March it was becoming clear that he needed more stimulation, socialising and challenges than I was providing, and I needed a few hours a week to myself otherwise I was going to go nuts. I think the awful weather last winter exacerbated the situation – there were too many days when we were stuck inside and full of pent up energy.
We were so lucky to find a good nursery nearby – it’s small enough that all the kids and staff get to know each other, and has a lot of outdoor space. It is reasonably priced and is literally a five-minute walk from home. Despite the fact that there were a lot of staff changes soon after DorkySon starting, he settled in quickly and seems to have had a blast. He’s had the chance to do lots of activities that he wouldn’t have done at home (they had a fire engine visit last week…), his confidence has grown massively, and he never stops talking about how much he likes the people there.
From my point of view, it has been brilliant to have two mornings a week to do some bits and pieces of freelance writing, schedule appointments, do paperwork and even *pulls guilty Mummy face* go for the occasional coffee or take a nap.
I’m not sure why starting DorkySon at nursery stressed me out so much. I was deeply aware of how lucky we were to be in a position where it was through choice and not necessity. I guess part of me felt like I was somehow failing in my motherly duties by admitting that need for some time to myself, and part of me was worried that he wouldn’t adjust well to it and would be unhappy. I’m thrilled that hasn’t been the case, and now I’m just hoping desperately that when we move we can find a new nursery where he settles as quickly as he did at this one. (I’m also hoping I can pick up some more paid freelance work to justify it!).
So yes, two big occasions being marked this week, and two big reasons to be cheerful. Happy anniversaries to us!
To see other bloggers reasons to be cheerful, check out the linky over at Mummy from the Heart.
The Gallery: Home
I’ve never taken part in The Gallery before – a weekly link-up hosted by top blogger Tara at Sticky Fingers, where participants post photos around a certain theme – but when I saw that this week’s prompt was ‘Home’ I couldn’t resist. For obvious reasons I’ve been thinking about the concept of home a lot recently, and this provided a great excuse to go and look back through some of my old photos.
I chose to make a collage, using photos of some of the bits and bobs around our house that we’ll be taking with us when we move, and using to make our new place feel like home. I’ve given a short explanation below of what they all are. If you like these photos, please feel free to check out some of my others on my Flickr stream, which is here.
Photos, moving clockwise from top left:
The rug. We love our rugs, we do. We’ve got two beautiful wooden floors in the house, which we had sanded and varnished when we moved in… and then promptly covered up with our big, patterned area rugs. When I first met DorkyDad, he had a special comb for keeping the fringes of his rugs nice and neat (can you tell that he’s a Virgo?). But since having DorkySon he’s pretty much given up on that. Now he’s just grateful to get to the end of the day without having milk or juice tipped over any of them.
The cat. I may lose readers over this, but I’m not a cat person. I’m not just ambivalent; I actively dislike most cats I meet. Partly because I’m allergic to them, but mainly just because I think they’re horrible. If it’s any consolation to the feline fans out there, the feeling is mutual… most cats head straight for me and slink around my ankles once or twice, before hopping in my lap, looking me straight in the eye, and sinking their sharp little claws into my thighs. Anyway, I digress. This funky little metal guy is the exception to my cat-hating rule; he sits in our kitchen and keeps an eye on things. He has attitude. I like him a lot.
The table. I’m not being boasty (well, I am a little bit), but we have the best dining room table ever, which we found in a wee second hand shop in Edinburgh. It’s ridiculously big and heavy and, as you can see from the photo, has had the crap beaten out of it. Apparently it was used as a cook’s table in Donaldson’s School, which is why there are so many knife marks and chunks missing. It’s coming with us, even if I end up sleeping under it on a pavement somewhere.
The lamp. This was a present from me to DorkyDad. It’s an old Cadillac headlamp, which has been fixed on top of a wooden tripod. For some reason it also has a built-in compass. For months, when we walked past the lamp in a nearby shop window, DorkyDad used to say how much he’d like it. Then one day it disappeared and he was very sad… until he discovered that I’d gone in without him one day, haggled down the price, and hidden it for his birthday. It’s kinda kooky, but we like it.
The candlesticks. These were a wedding present from a friend in Zimbabwe. I haven’t been able to find candles dinky enough to fit in them recently, so we haven’t lit them for months, but I still like having them around.
The dominoes. These are DorkyDad’s dominoes, which live in an old wooden cigar box. I am totally an old lady before my time; I love playing dominoes, especially by candlelight, with a glass of wine and some music on. I get ridiculously competitive, and take enormous delight in sending DorkyDad ‘down to the boneyard’.
The bed. Comfiest bed ever. The end.
The paintings. Our house is chock-a-block with art, none of it valuable, but all of it well loved. We are lucky enough to have some ridiculously talented family and friends; and we’ve also picked up some beautiful pieces at the College of Art degree shows. A large proportion of our paintings, including this wooden lizard, are pieces of Gullah Art, from the Red Piano Gallery in South Carolina. They are all non-negotiable; they’re coming with us.
The harmonicas. Because no home is complete without some sweet music making machines. Both DorkySon and DorkyDad are fans of playing the mouthie. Me, I just like to take photos of them.
The toy cars. Only a fool would try and part DorkySon from his red Chevy, his purple Carmen Ghia, his yellow Beetle, or any of the other several hundred cars and trucks in his possession. He knows where every single one of them originally came from. And are they coming with us to London? Hell yes.
The blue vase. This was a present for DorkyDad from some of his very best friends, when he moved house previously. Having fresh cut flowers in a house always helps it feel like home, and never more than when they’re placed in a beautiful vase.
The notebooks. This is a family of writers. We are note-takers, poets, journal-makers, scrapbookers and photographers. We are surrounded by paper. We may have to do some filing, but we gave away our shredder last week, so all the papery stuff is here to stay.
The centrepiece. The clock, the painting, and the marble fireplace in this shot are all wonderful… but the real star of the show is the Monster. He is very old, and is part of a great story, which I probably can’t tell without getting DorkyDad into trouble. But wherever we go he will be coming too. He’s our protector, and no house would be a home without him.
To see how other bloggers have interpreted the theme of home, check out this week’s gallery here.
Our Electronic Incompatibility
This post originally appeared over at Sylwia Presley’s site, as part of the BritMums guest post match-up. Given how many gushy posts I’ve put up here about how fab DorkyDad is, I figured he wouldn’t mind just one confessing the only real trouble-spot in our relationship…
DorkySon son spent the other morning walking round the house saying, “The small one is the iPod. The big one is the iPad.” At 27 months, his grasp of technology is somewhat terrifying.
He is more than capable of turning on both the iPod and the iPad, unlocking the screen, and scrolling to find whatever app he wants to play with. Sometimes it’s Jelly Doodle… sometimes it’s Create A Car… sometimes he just likes to tap on the clock and see what time it is in Melbourne. He can keep himself happy for hours tapping away on the touchscreen, and has even executed a couple of actions (perhaps by accident, but who knows) that I didn’t previously know about.
It is just as well that someone in the family is tech-literate, because it is not a skill that DorkyDad or I have. In fact, it is one of the very few areas of discord in our marriage; we suffer from severe electronic incompatibility.
For two people who both pride themselves on being clear communicators, it is extraordinary that we seem unable to have even the simplest conversation about technology without it descending into argument. With computers in particular, it’s like we’re talking two different languages. DorkyDad will ask me how to do something, but he asks in such a roundabout way that all I can do is stand and look at him blankly while I figure out what exactly it is he needs. Usually it’s nothing more than how to add an attachment to an email, or re-name a file, so when I’ve eventually decoded his jargon, I’ll walk over and try to show him… but then he’ll get hacked off that I’m standing too close and breathing in his ear. So then I’ll stand a little further back, and try to talk him through it… but to anyone who’s not an IT expert, it’s pretty difficult to do that without seeing the screen. He shakes his head at me, and scowls, and shouts that he doesn’t see the menu option that I’m talking about. So I’ll offer to sit down and do it myself… but he’ll just keep grumbling for a minute before slamming his laptop shut, and muttering something about doing it ‘another time’.
We have the same problem all over the house. DorkyDad will accidentally sit on the remote control and make the TV screen go blank, and it’ll take half an hour of arguing before I can wrestle it out of his hands to fix the darn thing. He’ll unintentionally do something to his iPod that leaves it stuck playing the same track again and again… and I’ll find him jabbing his finger at it angrily, but achieving nothing. At the moment our printer is out of toner… and in all seriousness he suggested buying a new one rather than trying to change the cartridge. Given the tension it’s probably going to cause I am (almost) tempted to agree with him.
The thing is, nine times out of ten, when he wants help with something tech-related, I know how to do it, I just don’t know how to explain to him how to do it. I am quite sure he would say the same of me. Our electronic gulf is so wide, I am not sure there is much we can do about it, except keep muddling along, and trying not to throw anything too big at each other. Remote controls are probably okay, laptops not so much.
Our great hope is that within a few years, DorkySon will have advanced his skills even further, and he will be able to fix things for both of us. He can act as the mediator, the computer expert, keeper of the remote control, and changer of the toner cartridge. For that, the current smudgy fingerprints on my screen, and cookie crumbs on my keyboard, are more than worth it.
In the interest of fairness I should say that since I wrote this, DorkyDad has, in fact, been out, purchased a new toner cartridge, and replaced it, all by himself… However, he’s also bought a new phone that he’s trying to get to grips with, so wish us luck with that!
Dorkymum | Stories from Tasmania 