The Week That Was

I hope those of you who celebrate Christmas have had a wonderful time and enjoyed some quality moments with family and friends. Our Christmas day was quiet, just how we like it; time for us and no pressure. The dogs wouldn't leave the kitchen for fear of losing the aroma of turkey, completely in their element as The Farmer carved the bird and threw the odd bits to four drooling mouths. Even though Amy doesn't believe in Santa anymore, it didn't stop her from making the most of one of her favourite days of the year. Next week, the excitement will begin again when we celebrate her twelth birthday.

But this week for me has always been a time when I think about what the following year will bring. I've usually been one to make a new year resolution, then forget about it a fortnight into the new year. So this year I'm not going to make any. I'm going to wait and see what next year brings and even though I will naturally encourage my ambitions to materialise, I've decided that working hard and being true to myself will go a lot further than making promises I don't keep. I've always believed that things happen for a reason; whether that means facing a challenge or being handed a lucky charm. But what I do know is that I'm prepared to make the most of what I am given. Especially if I win the lottery!

Long Path to a Short Day

Had a lovely long weekend when friends came to stay. Took Amy into town on Saturday after her horse riding lesson, and she had her ears pierced. She was so excited and I have to say, they look gorgeous. We're cleaning them with lotion three times a day and turning them with very clean hands (means Amy keeps washing her hands every time she's been playing with the dogs - result!). Am so ready for Christmas now. As I finished all my shopping at the end of November and posted my cards the first week of December, these last couple of weeks seem to have dragged. All for one day. But we enjoy Christmas enough to make the most of it for a whole month. I asked on Twitter last night if anyone will be tweeting on Christmas day; I suspect I'll pop online for a while at some stage, just to see what Santa delivered to you all. I wonder if anyone will be blogging on the 25th...

My Meggie. Totally adorable.

Riding high and loving it.

Recording Children - Is It Right?

We all love watching our children perform and as I told you in my previous post, the pride we feel is immense. I used to record Amy's school plays when she was little and would put it on video to sell to proud parents and family, thus raising a little money for the school. Once the videos were available to buy at just a few pounds each, a letter went out to parents inviting them to purchase a copy. Unfortunately, the last time I recorded it, the school received a note from a parent saying they did not give permission for their child to be included in a recording of the school play. And so the following year, the school sent out a letter a week before the play, to all parents asking for them to sign a slip and give their permission for their child to be recorded. Out of 40 children, one of their parents sent the slip back saying "No, I do not give my permission". That was the end of that. From then on, no one was allowed to record any performances or take photographs during a school play just in case little Joe Bloggs was included in the shot. I wasn't the only one who found it sad, I have to say.

I think many schools have this approach now. I don't question why a parent wouldn't want their child included in the school play recording nor do I judge someone on their opinions, but it does make me feel a little upset for the children's parents who are so proud and just want to cherish every moment of their child's achievements. Amy's new school did say no camcorders to be used because they have done a recording of which they will sell on DVD's, but I noticed several people there with cameras and camcorders and really, I don't blame them one bit. They were proud; thrilled to watch their beautiful child on stage. When we watch our children in the school plays, they are usually the only children we are interested in. It's nice to watch the others too of course, but would you buy a DVD of your child's school play if your child wasn't in it? I can't wait to watch Amy's performance again and I'll be buying a few copies to give to my mum and some friends. I understand some people don't like their children's faces being made public but this is a school play, something we should all be proud of. At First school, it took one parent, just one, to stop any family and friends who couldn't get to the play, to miss out on what should have been the proudest moment of their children's lives to date. I suspect this is happening often in schools these days and whether it's the minority who are spoiling it for the majority remains to be seen. But I for one will be first in the queue when those DVD's are being sold. What are your thoughts on this?

Wish Upon A Star

The school hall was packed on Wednesday afternoon with proud family and friends, all supporting their talented kids as they took part in the Christmas performance. Before it started, some members of staff including the head teacher told me I would be in for a big surprise. I listen to Amy sing every day, she has a beautiful voice. To be given the opportunity to sing on a stage in front of an audience has been something I've wished would happen for her, but I have often thought her unpredictability might hold her back. I was wrong. She walked onto that stage in a long red dress with a woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She looked every bit a professional. The audience went still, even the little ones at the front stopped shuffling about on the benches. A guitar was strummed and a keyboard sounded whilst Amy clasped her hands around the microphone and looked towards the sea of gaping mouths. Every lyric of Silent Night could be heard as Amy's voice rang out, soft, meticulous and perfectly pitched. The strength and confidence she demonstrated left the hall looking on in awe as they witnessed a star in the making.

I tried so hard not to cry. I wanted to enjoy every second of the three songs she sang, the others being Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heavens Door, and Because You're Amazing... Just The Way You Are, the last one as a duet before being joined by some other children. The teachers and staff did an incredible job to prepare these special needs kids to perform to such a high standard. Two older children even bought the two staff members who organised the show, a bouquet of flowers - out of their own money. These kids love going to that school. They all feel included and part of a family. They all feel valuable and worthy. They are encouraged to take part, reassured they will never fail, supported in everything they do. To see my beautiful baby girl sing her heart out and know that not only did the audience enjoy it but that she had a wonderful time, has been the best Christmas present I could ever ask for. I knew she had it in her; she just needed a chance to shine. And she's taken that chance with both hands. Being proud doesn't come close to how I feel right now.

My Special Day

To see the 13th December on my blog means a lot to me because it's a special day. I don't like being center of attention but on the 13th of December 1969, I was exactly that to two very special people, my mum and dad. They held me in their arms and decided to name me Kathryn. Dad wanted to call me Jennifer but mum won him over. I like both names but as I've grown up with Kathryn, I guess I am more partial to it. When I think about my dad swooning over his baby daughter, I smile and imagine him staring into my eyes just like he did when he first held Amy.

There have been some amazing things happen in my life and the unconditional love bestowed upon me by my parents is, next to Amy's existence, the most incredible. When I was little, I waited with much anticipation and intense excitement for the 13th of December to come round. It did of course, and I would cherish every minute. I intend to do the same today, albeit without the child-like eagerness I used to feel. I'm 42. I'm a grown up. I'm a mum first and foremost, and wife to a man I wouldn't want to be without. I reckon the last 42 years have been worth celebrating, and today I will remember the two people who introduced me to the journey that is my wonderful life.

A Future I Can't Predict

I think we can all probably say we don't know where this year has gone. The older we get, it seems the faster time goes which is probably a very good reason for us to make the most of life. I feel as if I've done a lot this year and even though it's been somewhat of a roller coaster, what I've achieved actually makes me quite proud. Having published my debut novel and finished the first draft of my second, got Amy into a special school, started horse riding again, got my driving licence back after two years being unable to drive, it's been a busy 12 months. I've had more low days than happy ones even though being content is how I feel; I've lost friends and made new ones, joined websites and left them, become involved with writer's websites and appeared in two local newspapers and two national magazines. One can't say it hasn't been eventful.

There have been times when I've almost deleted my blog and left Twitter, days when I've vowed to stand up for myself then backed down out of fear, and times when I've wanted to tell the world to bugger off before wanting to shout from the rooftops how immensely happy I am. I don't know what next year will bring. If I self-publish again it will mean a new book and some hard work; I'll start writing my third novel and I'll continue updating the blog including the new pages I've created that I hope will also benefit you. But on the whole, so long as I'm still here this time next year to tell you about my roller-coaster year of highs and lows, I'll consider myself pretty lucky. None of us really want to get old, the thought of it alone can be a bit daunting. But I'd much rather grow old, because the alternative doesn't seem quite so appealing...

May I point you in the direction of Amanda Cowley's blog where she has featured me and kindly promoted my book, Discovery at Rosehill.

Despicable Vandalism

Appallingly, the mini bus that is used to transport kids at Amy's special school has been vandalised. I'm completely disgusted that anyone could even have the audacity to vandalise such a necessary and vital part of school property, but to do this to a school where each child is disabled in one way or another and relies on this bus as part of their every day learning, is quite beyond belief. Children are taken to various places to learn and integrate a little with society because the majority of them who attend the school have difficulties in particular with social issues. Many depend on the bus to take them to the shops where they are taught how to buy items and handle money, others use it for swimming, day trips and other paramount activities. Who in their right mind would do something so sick? Rumour has it that it's kids, probably trying to find a way to alleviate their boredom, but we all know there are too many kids roaming the streets with nowhere to go. Yet nothing is ever done about it.

The school have been fortunate because a very generous offer was made to pay for repairs thus enabling it to be used again. But to me, this act of thuggish behaviour is just another example of our angry and selfish society that thinks of no one else except themselves. It's never anyone's fault; there's always an excuse; punishment is always intervened by the do-gooders. But once we've got down to the nitty-gritty of these disgusting vandals, there is a human being whom, in most cases, knows no different. It's the way most of the thugs of today's society have been brought up. It's what they live with on a daily basis which makes vandalising a school mini bus a fun thing to do, because it gives a kid street cred. It's pathetic and very, very sad that these kids probably won't feel any remorse or be punished for what they have done. Whether they will be caught I don't know, but I doubt they'll be prosecuted if they are. Depending on their age, they'll probably get away with a slap on the wrist and a friendly caution whilst their parents look on with pride. These sick individuals have nothing to look forward to in life. Whether we're supposed to feel sorry for them I don't know, but right now all I feel is extreme sympathy for the disabled children who have had trips cancelled because of mindless bastards who think they're untouchable. Which, as we all know, probably are.

The End of a Magical Era

The inevitable happened over the weekend. For several months now Amy has been questioning her belief in Father Christmas and I have been trying hard to keep the magic alive by giving half-hearted answers like, "if you believe, then he must be real." I don't consider it lying but as she's almost twelve years old and is constantly asking me to tell the truth, I figured she'd already made her mind up and just needed me to confirm. So there we were on Friday night, watching I'm a Celebrity in my bed when she turned to me and said, "mum, does Santa really exist?" It was the way she asked that made me realise I couldn't carry on the pretence and it was finally time to come clean. I looked at her and forced a smile. Then I shook my head and watched tears form in her beautiful eyes. "He doesn't exist, does he?" she said, "please tell me the truth." And I reluctantly admitted defeat.

The tears fell and the sobbing started as she collapsed onto my shoulder. The hurt and disappointment was overwhelming and it took all my courage not to join her in a sea of tears. To say she was mortified was an understatement and I held her close for about twenty minutes whilst she fought the devastation. After a few nose-blowing sessions and drying of eyes, she eventually calmed down and turned her attention back to the television but every few minutes she would turn to me and clarify what she now knew. "I can't believe Santa doesn't exist. Was it you who put the presents in the lounge?" I did feel guilty, not just because I'd been found out, but also because I'd had to be the one to shatter her wonderful imagination of Santa coming down the chimney, getting stuck half way down before he would polish off a mince pie and glass of orange then rush back to Rudolf with a hand full of carrots. I suspect this Christmas won't be quite as magical as the previous ones but I'll make sure she has an amazing time, even if I am Santa. The festive mood will always be alive in our house over Christmas, and that's something I can always guarantee.

Beneath The Surface: Does It Exist?

I've been tagged recently by a few different people and as a lot of you know, I'm pretty useless at fulfilling the task in hand that is generously bestowed upon me in order to tell you more about myself. Having been blogging since May 2007, I would say I'd covered most things I wish to share on this open blog, and the skeletons I haven't uncovered are generally still in the cupboard for a reason. I have several profiles cluttering up the Internet that all give a little piece of me away, from my favourite music to my favourite books, from what I do for a living to what my hobbies are. You know I'm unsociable, have little confidence, am a total bore and am an easy target for bullying, whether online or otherwise, and you also know that I would do absolutely anything to protect my daughter. You know I love blogging and adore online interaction and those I communicate with on Twitter know I have a very unhealthy crush on Martin Shaw and keep losing chocolate peanuts in my cleavage. But it's a funny old world isn't it? For none of us truly know what goes on in "there". I sometimes wonder myself if I'm honest and for fear of sounding like a maudlin old hag, I spend more days down than I do up. 

The way we perceive ourselves online can be totally different to how we appear in real life, and only those people who know us inside-out, will ever truly understand our thoughts. But no one really knows me that way because, believe it or not, I do find it hard to open up. Over the years I've talked about a huge amount of subjects surrounding my life, being good, bad and ugly, but I've never really told you about me. Some blogs I read are cringe worthy because they're so 'open'. People lay their lives on the monitor for all to see, dirty washing, private thoughts and unnecessary revelations. Other people only talk about one subject, be it themselves, their children or their work. I've never been able to keep this blog to one subject because I have so much to tell. But what I do tell only touches the surface of my very complex life. How about you, would you be prepared to bare your soul online and tell the world about your life?