Tag Archives: mum

Dear Mum, you drive me crazy but…

8 Mar

Mothers Day

So I’ve been raking my brains for what to get my mum for Mother’s day. I could go down the token flowers / bubbles / smellies route (yawn) but the flowers will die, the bubbles will be drunk (probably quite quickly knowing mum) and the smellies will be added to the heap that’s currently gathering dust on her bathroom shelf.

Instead I thought I’d try something a bit different, I thought I’d write her letter and share it with the world so that she knows just how much I love her and how truly wonderful I think she is……so here it is…

Dear Mum,

So with Mother’s Day just around the corner I’ve been thinking of how I could possibly start to say thank you for being such a wonderful mum. The truth is I’m not sure I can. For as long as I can remember you’ve been there for me, guiding me along this crazy, fun, stupid and often terrifying road called life. Fulfilling the role of both Mum and Dad for most of my life you’ve shown me how to be a good person, how to keep smiling when everything seems to be falling around my ears, how to be caring and loving, how to stay positive, how to laugh at myself, how to stay strong and the biggest life lesson of all….that there really is no situation that can’t be tackled if you have a glass of wine in your hand!

When I was told I had breast cancer I walked out of the hospital feeling shocked, scared and broken. The first person I called was you. I can’t remember a time in my life when this wasn’t my natural reaction – every grazed knee, every trip to hospital (could you have had a more accident prone daughter?!), the multiple car prangs, the broken hearts, the bad days at work, the friendship wobbles, the ‘I’m moving house (again) will you help me’ call, the fashion dilemmas or recipe questions (your four cheese lasagne is the best in the world, fact!). Whatever the situation, whatever the question, the first person I want to call is you and somehow you always have the answer.

So on that horrible day when I got the news, it was your voice that I needed to hear, it was you I needed to see. And there you were, just a few hours later having run out of work and jumped on the first train from Bumpkin land to the big smoke with nothing but your handbag and a pair of knickers. When I met you at the station and we stood there on the platform hugging and sobbing I knew somehow it would be ok, because you’re my mum, and somehow you always manage to make everything ok. Then you got the wine out and I really knew we’d be fine.

“Supportive” is you through and through. You are a rock to so many people, me and Lulu, the girls, the whole family in fact, not forgetting your friends and colleagues. Everyone knows they can rely on you to be there, to give them a hug, to listen, to laugh, to pour the wine and to just be there. You are patient and kind and always see in the good in people. You’ve never gotten really angry despite the million times you could have ‘Yes sorry mum, I did have a house party when you told me not too, um yes I have pierced my ear, again, yeap I’ve crashed the car, again, oh and I’m really sorry but I’ve lost your camera, oh and the new camera you got to replace the one you lost, I’ve broken it, sorry, and um yes I did loose your wedding ring when I wore it to school once for a play….(What a nightmare daughter I was!)

Don’t get me wrong for all your loveliness, you also drive me completely crazy! Your inability to operate anything remotely technical is ridiculous, especially but not limited to; remote controls, hospital beds (don’t get me started on this one!), my car, my washing machine and the list goes on….You do my head in with your inability to start a sentence without the use of phrases like “At the end of the day”, “Can I just say” and “Yes but, lets be honest….”- like you’re going to lie to me?! And no, for the hundredth time, I don’t know ‘So and so, who used to live next door to such and such, who’s cousin went to school with that girl down the road, who’s dog looked a bit like ours…’ No, afraid not, I have literally no idea who the hell you’re talking about and never will.

You are also highly embarrassing, like all good mums should be. Last Easter being the perfect example. In a moment of pure ’embarrassing mum madness’ you called my office and asked the person on the other end of the phone if they’d mind popping out to Sainsbury’s to buy me an Easter egg, because you’d forgotten to put one in the post for me. You kindly said you’d reimburse them, of course, but if they could see to it that I had one that would be lovely……I was 32 years old, the person on the other end of that phone was the MD of the agency….who subsequently called a mini company meeting to retell the story of my mum asking him to buy me an Easter egg, before finally presenting it to me in front of everyone …..mortified!

But as is typical with you, it was also bloody hilarious and just one of my many, many funny memories of you. Like the way you like to dance in front of the fridge – because you can see your reflection and weirdly like to dance with yourself?! Or your appalling singing voice and your tendency to completely disregard the actual lyrics of a song in favour of your own made up version, who can forget the classic “Hose me down” by James. And I’m not even going to get in to the graphic personal details you love to share about me and my sister to any Tom, Dick or Harry you meet – nothing is sacred, nothing. Strangers please gather round and let me tell you about the time that Jodie did…. (lets just leave that there shall we). We know you’re proud but still, it’s embarrassing! Although on that, I am slowly realising that maybe I’ve inherited the sharing gene, this is hardly a private blog is it….hmmm.

But I wouldn’t swap you for all the world and I know that these last seven months would have been immeasurably harder if you weren’t right there, by my side every step of the way. Holding my hand, wiping away my tears (and your own), giving me encouragement, telling me I was still gorgeous boobs or no boobs, giving me cuddles, taking me away when I couldn’t face the world, cooking for me, cleaning up after me, taking care of me, keeping me laughing, helping me every single step of the way. All the time just being you. Wonderful you.

So when I get snappy because you’ve left my car in gear (again), or you can’t figure out how to use my telly (again), or I’m huffing because you’ve told me the same story five times already and I’m at that mother/daughter point when I just need to get away from you because you’re doing my head in……please know, that even in those stroppy moments I completely and utterly adore you.

Happy Mother’s Day, you’re one in a million.


P.S Don’t worry, there will still be bubbles ;0)

Movie moments – take one

8 May

As you may have already gathered from my ramblings I have quite a vivid imagination…crazy neon colours type vivid. Now, I’m going to let you in on a little secret, a small, somewhat embarrassing thing I do called ‘Movie Moments’.

If there was entry on Wikipedia for Movie Movements it would read a little something like this: Movie Moments – this is a process whereby an individual of sane mind creates an entirely fabricated scenario which is then played out in their imagination. The scenario often resembles that from a movie and will also include an all-important sound track to add to the experience.

To give you an example every single time I’m working out, in a gym, running, anything…. it’s a movie moment. To be more specific the exercising movie moment I’m in – is a montage, a transformation montage to be precise. It’s that part of any romcom movie when the jilted girl gets fit, looses loads of weight and generally looks fabulous. It is in my head where I transform from a curvy (wobbly), short arsed wilderbeast into a galloping long legged gazelle – all to the soundtrack of kick ass songs like “Since you’ve been gone” by Kelly Clarkson or “Single Ladies” by Beyonce. I’m serious. I imagine my transformation montage every single time I’m exercising.

Another movie moment would be the ‘randomly meeting the man of my dreams movie moment’….I have this one a lot. For example recently I was enjoying a coffee sat in the window of a gorgeous boutique café and started imaging my movie moment scenario……maybe a guy will trip up right outside the window, I’ll giggle, he’ll see me, laugh too, our eyes will meet, we’ll share a muffin and wham! – love of my life…..you get the picture.

I loose myself in these little movie moments all the time. And whilst I know they are totally absurd, ridiculous and actually a bit sad I am desperate for one to happen in real life. But of course they never do. Of course not – because they totally absurd, and ridiculous. And even though I know this, even though I know they will never, ever come true, I’m still over come with disappointment that they don’t?! I know. Crazy right. Oh yes.

So this is what happened when I returned from Australia. 24hours is a long time to be travelling. It’s epic in fact. And so fuelled by a severe lack of sleep, far too much red wine and 2 night nurse tablets (seriously not recommended?!) I started to imagine my movie moment arrival home….These were the various scenarios I played out in my head –

Movie moment 1: I come through the arrivals hall, pushing my luggage trolley, searching the sea of faces for my family……and then running towards me, pushing through the crowds come my two gorgeous nieces, screaming my name, with massive smiles on their faces, closely followed by my mum (who’s naturally crying with joy) and my sister. I scoop up my nieces covering them in kisses and cuddles, I’m crying too at this point, then on to a massive, meaningful hug with my mum and sister. We’re all crying and laughing. Reunited. They are over joyed to see me. It’s wonderful. The sound track here would be something like “You’ve got the love” by Florence & the Machine.

Reality check – I land at 6am. Yes 6am. There is absolutely no way on earth my sister would drag my poor nieces out of their beds at 3am to travel the 3hrs up from bumpkin land to London just to meet me off a plane. Not a chance.

Movie moment 2: (Please hold the judgements on this one, I was drunk and drugged remember!) I come through the arrivals hall, pushing my luggage trolley, searching the sea of faces …..and then….him. Yes. He’s there. Standing there with a massive bunch of flowers, and maybe a balloon, and most definitely a banner of some kind (I love a home made banner!). We walk slowly towards each other…. neither of us say a word…..we just….know. We embrace, tears streaming down our cheeks and then we kiss and it’s all wonderful…..The sound track here would be something like Coldplay or Snow Patrol, maybe the last minuet of Open Your Eyes, with all the strings and violins – I LOVE the violins. Goosebump central!

Reality check – HELLO?!!!! WTF?!! Have you not just spent 3months getting over this guy, come on woman get a grip. I practically slapped myself round the face on the plane once I’d played out this little movie moment in my head.

NO, NO, NO, NO….NEVER GONNA HAPPEN. STOP IT!! Deep breath. Right then.

So eventually I settled on a version of movie moment 1, with a few little tweaks, namely that it would just be my mum. My wonderful mum. The woman who’s spent the last 3months telling me how much she loves me and can’t wait to have to me home….yes my mum, a lovely movie moment of me arriving into Heathrow running into the arms of my mum for a massive cuddle and a few tears. This was brilliant. The perfect arrival at the airport scene – like something out of ‘Love Actually’. And this time it was gonna happen for real, finally one of my movie moments would come true.

By the time the plane had landed I’d sobered myself up and had started to get all nervous and excited. I was gonna see my mum, I couldn’t wait.

I walked through the arrival doors with all the other passengers, a big smile on my face, nervously searching the sea of faces for my mum. My fellow passengers were being greeted by loved ones all around me, it was wonderful. I walked on a bit, slowing down. Still searching the crowds for my mum. My trolley slowed down a bit more, then eventually stopped. I looked and looked but there was no sign of her. I was certain that at any moment she’d come bursting through the crowd to sweep me up in a massive cuddle….but no, no mum. No mum at all.

Maybe she’d got stuck in traffic, she’d come running in any moment now. Five minuets passed. Then 10. By now everyone on my plane had been collected, embraces had and reunions done. Not me. I’m still there with my trolley and now I’m starting to get worried. This is Zomerset Mum, she would never be late, something awful must have happened. My Auz phone wasn’t working now that I was back on UK soil so I begged the main behind the information desk to let me use his phone….

“Mum?? Where are you, are you ok?”

“Oh hi darling yeah I’m fine, just on my way to Heathrow…”

“WHAT?!!! On your way to Heathrow?! I landed an hour ago?!!!”

“Oh, really, oh god. I’m sorry darling, you told me not to rush….I’m on my way though”

“Fine I’ll meet you in the café called Bite – see you soon.” HUFFF.

Brilliant. My own mother had basically forgotten about me. I mean, I’d only been away for 3months it’s not like she missed me or anything?! I was sooooo pissed off. This was the movie moment I felt certain I’d get. My movie moments are always a disappointment (being as they are massively ridiculous and in the “never gonna happen” category) but this one….this one I was certain would happen. But no. Mum forgot about me. Lovely.

Eventually she arrived and after failing to find the café (that was all of 50meters away from the arrival area) I heard my name being called on the tanoy – great, just what I wanted, my name being called over the loudspeaker. Oh the shame of it.

So rather than an emotional, lovely embrace what happened was a very moody exchange of “I can’t believe you weren’t here” and “how could you forgot about me” and “Well you told me not to rush”…..etc etc

It turns out there were three reasons why Zomerset Mum was so late –

1)    She got very, very drunk the night before with her friend Sue (yes Sue I am placing some of the blame with you!)

2)    Because of the above, she left a little bit (read a lot) later than she should have done, hampered no doubt by the massive hangover she’d woken up with

3)    Due to all of the above she had forgotten everything I’d told her about my flight times

So there you go. Movie moments. I have them all the time and they never, ever come true. If only my damm imagination would take a break and save me from this disappointment.

Actually that’s a lie. One movie moment did come true. When I first came to London the phrase fish out of water couldn’t have been more appropriate. I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing, I was dressed wrong, had a funny accent and kept thinking that at any moment a couple of blokes would escort me out of the city saying “sorry love, you just don’t belong here”. I was so uncool. Seriously uncool. I’d look at the Starbucks girls and wish I was one of them. They’d come swishing out of Starbucks their mocha, choca, late, extra foam, shot, thing in hand, mobile in the other, looking uber stylish in their amazing outfits and killer heels, heading off to some meeting or another. I didn’t even like coffee. That was never gonna be me.

But a few years ago, I was dashing off to a meeting wearing my favourite outfit, a super tight black and white stripped dress, with my waist nipping black blazer, killer accessories and my bright coral heels. I looked hot. I rushed into Starbucks to grab my usual – a skinny hazelnut latte and ran out into the sunshine. Then I stopped. Oh my god. I was a starbucks girl! It had actually happened. I had somehow morphed from a lost bumpkin into the kind of girl I used to stare at. Such was my joy at realising this I called my boyfriend at the time, to try and explain it to him. I was a starbucks girl! Of course he had no idea what I was talking about and I’m pretty sure he thought I was drunk but I didn’t care. I was so happy.

So there you go, maybe that’s why I can’t stop imaging the movie moments. Because maybe, just maybe, one day, one of them will come true….oh god I’m pathetic!

%d bloggers like this: