Posts Tagged ‘moving home

Was it really my very last post that I promised to blog regularly enough for you to read some wittiness every Monday? Was it really in January that I said that? I also promised it would mostly be rhyme. Well, nothing rhymes very well with itself…but I can’t imagine anyone would be convinced by that poor excuse.

So, if you still believe anything I say, read on and I will catch you up.

I have managed to spend the last few months looking outwardly cheerful. Coping with the new situation…move, schools, completing my diploma. Outwardly…all seems fine. We are managing.

Loved one and I know, though, that the underlying reality, whilst nothing particularly terrible is happening, is that I have been pretty depressed throughout.

There is nothing in particular to put my finger on. Everything is kind of OK – children are still as adorable as ever; loved one has had the work piled high but has somehow managed to remain as doting as ever; school problems are a logistical nightmare but an amazing neighbour has helped immensely to make sure nobody is sat outside the school office for half an hour every afternoon waiting for me to get there; we fixed a whole heap of problems with the new house and we are planning our 10th anniversary holiday quite soon.

In a way, it’s really helped me to understand how inexplicable it can be. Going from being OK to being far from OK with no good reason. None at all that I can think of. It just goes to show that it can be a hair-trigger that takes you from one state to the next. You think you’re having a bad week, and that it will be fine again once you catch up on sleep, or get a bit of fresh air. Those things help and stop things from being utterly unbearable, but the bad week turns into a bad month, turns into a bad winter, and so on.

That’s kind of why I didn’t blog for a while. I couldn’t sum up the cheerfulness; it was all used up on the kids and the smiles I was thankfully still able to give to neighbours and passers-by. Even now I feel a bit mean inflicting a non-cheerful post on you all.

But then I realised that if I couldn’t at least try to articulate how I felt in my blog, my pouring out of little secrets about myself, my ‘dear diary’ place to go whenever I needed to think something through, then that would be worse. After all, if it’s the kind of thing you don’t like to read, you can quietly close the page and I won’t know any different.

So, this time, I am not going to make any promises. Furthermore, I am officially taking back any promises I made from regularity to poetry. When I can, I will do those things. I still like blogging. I still love writing in rhyme. I still like to be cheerful! I just need to know in my own mind that I can use the blog as therapy from time to time. And I know you will understand.

I also have a few positive things to mention.

Firstly, I feel like the trough of depression is now behind me. I am still climbing up the steep hill to fully fledged happiness, but the moments of misery are considerably less frequent.

Secondly, I am getting fitter! Walking 6 to 8 miles a day twice a week (yes, the outcome of our school shenanigans) is great.

Thirdly, in spite of the new house throwing up a fair number of urgent problems, we love it, and even more we love our new neighbours who couldn’t be more adorable if they tried. I know every single person in our road and met them all within a month of moving in.

Fourthly, I have joined a choir at last and sing every Friday evening.

Fifthly, I have submitted my diploma portfolio! Five years of study is coming to a close and once it comes back from its final marking, I shall be a fully fledged antenatal teacher. I can’t wait.

Sixthly, the kids are thriving in their new schools and have had glowing feedback from their class teachers.

And finally, loved one and I have just celebrated our tenth anniversary. I love him so, so much. Even more than ever for helping me through this tough time. In the words from the excellent Moulin Rouge (let’s hope I misquote correctly), the greatest thing I’ve ever learned is to love and be loved in return.

Thanks for bearing with me folks. The razzmatazz will return before too long!


It’s Christmas, and I’m back once more…

This time I feel a change in store.

I feel inspired by blogs I’ve seen

To rhyme my posts from now on in.

Alternatively, you may see

I might just draw to tell of me.


There’s lots to tell of months gone by –

Some things that made me want to cry,

Some things that made me scream with rage

Or lock myself inside a cage…

The good new, though, is that as I type

(and this is really worth the hype)

I do so from our brand new dwelling!

Now wasn’t that a tale worth telling?


In posts to come I shall regale

You all with quite a lengthy tale

Of how we left our Bedford home,

And towards South Buckinghamshire did roam.

It wasn’t easy – it never is

But thankfully we did the biz.

We made it here December first

And though I’ll tell of tales much worse

We Christmassed here with much delight.

The rest I’ll tell you soon. Night night!



Halloo dear readers. Look, a post! A real, live braindribbles post! Alas no pictures – I pressed that new button on the WordPress home page and it’s confused me a little. Can’t seem to ‘save draft’ while I hunt down the relevant pictures. Oh well.

So, to fill you in, we are in that interim period. We are out of Bedfordshire and in Buckinghamshire, just not in the new place quite yet.

My fabulous in-laws are putting us up in the meantime. Rental was a possibility but frighteningly expensive…monthly rental on a two-bed flat would have been almost twice as much as our old mortgage, which was a four-bed detached. Loved one persuaded me that it would be OK with the in-laws. He was right, from our perspective, though I do worry about their blood pressure with three children haring around the place.

Anyhow, whilst it’s nice and relaxing spending time with the in-laws, who are the sort who make life easier rather than harder – in both the physical and metaphorical sense – it’s still very odd actually living here. I can’t seem to establish a routine or get a sense of normal.

Of course, that’s not helped by the fact that the kids have no school as yet. There seem to be no free places in any schools around here at the moment. I’ve got to the point where I’m giving up trying, and muddling through a bit of home education till we get into the new place…at which point we make a real fight to get them into the local school. With claws out, if it comes to it. (I hope it doesn’t, mind you, but I suspect it probably will.)

My own studies, unsurprisingly, are suffering…but last week I found a great childminder to look after smallest one once or twice a week. So that should pick up again. That is, if I can persuade the older ones to get on with their workbooks in the local library without bothering me, anyway.

So it’s tricky.

Having said that, the in-laws live right in the country. The views, the sky at night, the peace and quiet, mother-in-law’s old-fashioned yet delicious home cooking every other night, the sense of outside space is all to die for. We’ll miss all of that when we move into semi-suburbia.

I won’t miss sharing a room with smallest one, though. She’s waking every time I turn in bed, wanting a cuddle.

Nor will I miss the sense of limbo. A little home security goes a long way.

And I Just. Can’t. Wait. to sleep in my own bed again…


A little postscript for my regular readers. Thanks for bearing with me for the weeks of no posting. Can’t promise another post all that soon, but don’t unsubscribe just yet! Things will return to normal, and positivity will eventually rule!

Well, things have become insanely busy round here! Admittedly it has rather more with trying to say goodbye to friends and keeping track of an increasingly intrepid toddler, than to do with any packing that should be being done… Indeed, the only reason I am sitting down to blog about it is because Loved One bought me a shiny new iPad for my birthday and I wanted to try out the WordPress app. Which is OK, but very basic. Nothing but plain text and NO pictures. Which might explain the rather boring appearance of this particular post..

Here are six things I am slowly starting to realise about moving:

Take all offers of childcare you can beg, bribe or blag – you need every second of child free time you can get.

Try and keep doing things you enjoy if you can. Don’t let the packing demons force you into a hermit-like existence or you will become a person devoid of good humour and your children will hide from you.

When you are doing things you enjoy, try and ensure it doesn’t involve more laundry or catering than normal. Swimming, for instance, will give you a double headache because you have to find somewhere to dry the kit afterward. And on no account do it three times in the last ten days.

When trying to chase up school admission departments who seem to have no idea of the urgency of the situation, do so before 2pm and on a weekday, or the entire department will have gone home and left nothing but an irritating answer machine message telling you to call back at a more suitable time.

If you have been running around like a headless chicken all day, do not expect to be able to pull out endless reserves of stamina to deal with yet more headless chicken impressions in the evening. You will get the kids in bed and you will no longer be any good to anyone.

When contemplating the sheer enormity of what you need to achieve, do not let your urge to procrastinate inspire you to blog about your predicament rather than picking your socks up and actually getting on with it.


I look forward to updating you when the dust settles. And if you catch me blogging between now and then, feel free to give me the severe reprimand I deserve.

Once again my life is gathering pace, hurtling towards our move deadline at increasing speed.

I’m quite pleased that I’ve blogged every weekday for some time now…but it’s now got to the point where I can’t sustain it and meet the other demands on my time, so I will save it till things have calmed down a little.

You might get the odd post once in a while, especially if the events of the coming weeks are too interesting to keep to myself, but I doubt I will be regular again till early to mid October.

Thanks for being such great readers!  I’ll be back before you know it ☺

Comparing removal quotes tonight, I suddenly realised that this house move is finding me nose deep in spreadsheets most of the time. Considering I generally don’t use the application, this is quite a dramatic change for me.

If it’s not comparing quotes from removal companies, it’s planning rooms, checking items off lists, and so on.  Look…

See what I mean?  If nothing else, it’s made me realise I’ve not been sitting idle…

Will I still be this into spreadsheets after the move is over?

Hmm… Probably not.

Yes, we’ve exchanged contracts on our house sale.  It was in the offing all last week, but nevertheless a considerable weight was lifted from our shoulders when our solicitor rang at 9.05 a.m. last Friday to give us the news.

We have another month before we complete, and you can never be sure of anything these days, but it is still some kind of a milestone and means we have a tiny bit more ammunition for the school admissions officials.

In the meantime, I’m trying to work out what to take with us to the in-laws, what to put into storage till we can move into the new place, and what to sneakily throw away while nobody is looking.

So far my latter pile is far too small.  It doesn’t help that the kids are on school holiday, so I can’t get rid of their junk quite as easily as I’d hoped. The British Heart Foundation are coming to take away a big heap of furniture in a week’s time though.  The trick will be to hack a way through the garage junk to make it possible for them to remove the relevant items.

Maybe once I have access to the dark depths of the  garage I can stealthily donate a few more boxes to charity. I’m messy, but when I de-clutter I’m ruthless.  I’m especially ruthless with other people’s possessions.  Even more so when such items have been gathering dust in the garage for a good five years without being missed.  I say this; loved one has a knack for spotting what’s gone, and very impressive look of outrageous indignation.  I reckon he must have played those visual memory games a lot as a kid.

I had some boxes delivered for packing the items to take to the in-laws. The best ones of all are the wardrobe boxes – particularly fabulous for playing peekaboo with a one-year-old. The cardboard door will swing naturally shut, then suddenly swoosh open with a big ‘beebo’, a huge grin and lots of giggles.

OK, so moving house is stressful, but it’s also fun.

I’m off now to sneak some items into the charity box while loved one’s away. (Shhh, don’t tell.)