My Clutter Nutter

Our son turned sixteen at the weekend and was delighted to be given his own PC from us.  No more fighting over the home computer for his slot to do homework, play games or watch YouTube.

Sixteen and approaching manhood.  All gifts are now either computer or gadget-based with the odd book, deodorant or clothes thrown in for good measure.

So let me take you on a tour of the house that we share with this teen.  I’d heartily recommend a hard hat and steel capped boots.  Also, if you’re an asthma sufferer, please make sure you have medication with you as vast quantities of dust will be involved.

Let’s start with the kitchen/diner - to our left you’ll see a green toy box under the stairs.  Let’s have a closer look inside shall we?  Ooh, two hundred matchbox cars and assorted bits of ‘very important tat’ accumulated for over a decade and never touched.

Cupboard to the right - a fairy princess castle (!), a ‘dig your own fossil’ kit (unused), boxes of magic tricks, a dozen or so board games and a popcorn maker.  Once moved, none of this goes back as successfully as it came out and will usually result in a few choice expletives. (us not him)

Welsh dresser cupboards - numerous sticker and colouring-in books, a second tranche of board games, dried up felt tip pens and a cardboard puppet theatre.

Welsh dresser drawer - every Kinder egg toy known to man circa 1997 - 2003, McDonalds toys and assorted trashy party bag gifts i.e.: rubbers, yo-yos, bouncy balls.

Kitchen cupboards one, two and three - Play dough and cutters, paints, glitter, glue, feathers, beads, balloons, painting by numbers, more felt tips and various incomplete works of art.

Upstairs to the sitting room and all looks fairly normal - TV, Playstation 3, new PC … but look behind the door.  Another bigger toy box filled to the gunnels with trains, cars, puppets, more yo-yos and things with tangled wires that hold the whole mish mash of stuff together in an unruly heap (I’m sure most of you can relate to an uncoiled Slinky which pulls everything into its grasp).  There’s also a shelf filled with DVDs and PS3 games which involve shooting blood from zombies and severed limbs from soldiers.  But if you just move one slightly to the left you’ll see they nestle incongruously with ‘Sooty’ and ‘Rugrats’ videos.

Up to the top floor and his bedroom also looks like that of a normal teenage boy - guitar, keyboard, amp, socks, rolled up bits of paper and general junk.  Until you notice the bulging cupboard doors, behind which lurk every baby-toy, puzzle, game and teddy ever bought or given.  Not to mention under the bed, boxes of Lego, marbles, more trains and dressing up gear - even every school exercise book he’s ever completed.

Add to this approximately 200 reading books (takes after his mother!) and over 300 Beano comics and that just about sums up our little hoarder.

We’ve obviously done what every self respecting parent does at some point in their journey through parenthood, known as the ‘the sneaky chuck’, but we have a particular breed of hoarder on our hands - the one with the memory of an elephant.  Every gift, large or small, is readily recalled by him - who gave it to him and when.

This obviously makes the sneaky chuck virtually impossible.  He’s yet to discover that his toy ironing board and hoover have made their way to the charity shop but, if he ever does, I fear things may get messy.

We’ve even tried monetary incentive with him and suggested a car-boot sale.  We’ve tried to get him to envisage every jigsaw puzzle as a pound, every Lego set as four, a box full of odds and sods at 10p an item and you soon have (in this case) at least few hundred quid.

But no, this is a hardened hoarder we’re dealing with - too sentimental to part with anything.  He admits he’ll never play with his ‘Kitty Vet’ or ‘Puff-Along-Thomas’ again but he just needs to know they’re there.

So we plod on living in a house that looks like a cross between the Early Learning Centre and Toys R Us.

When he finally flies the nest, I wonder just how much of this essential history will find its way onto the removal van and how much he’ll expect to leave behind with good old Mum and Dad. Can’t help but feel that most of it will be ready for the Antiques Road Show rather than a car-boot by then.

Did you know you can read eBooks on your computer or Smartphone with a free app from Amazon?

Why not give my debut novel ‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ a go.  It’s available on Amazon.co.uk or .com.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

Help Save the Children (No donation required!)

I only blog on Wednesdays now but am making an exception today as I’ve been tagged by Maria@feistytapas to take part in a worthy cause.

On Saturday, The Save the Children Campaign held their first blogging conference.

When we moan about the NHS we need to stop and think that children in the poorest countries are dying purely because of the lack of basic healthcare.

Half of the 8 million children who die each year are in Africa, yet Africa has only 3% of the world’s doctors, nurses and midwives.

We all watch the news and see the adverts which break our hearts but usually feel there's nothing we can do unless we put our hands in our pockets.

Well there is - and this is where bloggers are taking action.  Founding Twitterers @michelletwinmum and @helloitsgemma set their initial target for 100 people to sign the petition at Save the Children and then to write 100 words about a health care professional they have dealt with in the past.  We must then tag other bloggers.

So instead of sitting back and doing nothing or feeling guilty because we never get around to making that donation, we can sign THIS PETITION to makes these requests:

Dear Prime Minister,
We call on the UK Government to:
1) Attend a high level event during the UN General Assembly where the UK and other governments make commitments to fund, train, deploy and support more health workers.
2) Commit new and additional support to help key countries strengthen their health workforce.
3) By the end of the year,  articulate how the government will support countries to deliver on the UN Global Strategy on Women’s and Children’s Health.

MY HEALTHCARE STORY

When I gave birth to my son, I needed to be cut and stitched.  During the days that followed his birth, the stitches were agony - so much so that I could barely sit.

In the comfort of my own bedroom, my cool and calm midwife removed a couple that were causing the trouble and I felt like a new woman.

Looking back, as much as it was unpleasant at the time, I realise how fortunate I was - not only to have my lovely midwife, but to have had the professional services on hand to carry out an episiotomy in the first place.  In poorer countries, women and babies are dying purely because a simple procedure such as this would present a major risk.

Please help by joining this great cause and signing the petition above.

I now tag fellow blogger & Twitterers:

@michellebetham

@laurelmayer

@thepamperbox

@writerdove

Thank you.

A-Z of Me

Today I’ve been tagged by the lovely WriterDove (after she’d been tagged by MelkshamMum) to write an A-Z about me, based on a set of questions. So here goes …

ANORAK … Do you have a sad side?

Insisting that my loved ones ‘check in’ with me.  Making sure they’ve arrived safely and all is well.

BODY … What physical attribute would you most like to change?

I would love to have a new bladder - I’m not saying it’s ‘leaky’ it just fills very quickly and makes the theatre or travelling a nightmare.

CELEBRITY … Which one would you most like to date and why?

Curtis Stigers, Richard Gere, Colin Firth, Dec (not Ant), Tim Minchin.  Oh ONE, sorry!  And why?  Because they’re gorgeous and hubbie wants Kylie!

DEBUT … Tell us about your first ever blog post. What made you start blogging?

First ever blog was about school phobia, as my son suffered with it from the age of 11.  I began blogging to promote my book but also to train myself to write every day - even when I didn’t want to.

ERROR … What’s been your biggest regret?

Starting smoking.  It’s foul, expensive and has me horribly in its grip.

FUNNY … Who’s making you laugh?

My husband, son, mother and friends.  They never cease to amaze me with their wit.

GRAND … If we gave you one right now what would you spend it on?

It would be gobbled up by our debts before I had the chance to spend it on clothes and shoes.

HOLIDAY … What’s your favourite destination?

Holiday?  What’s one of those then?

IRRITATE … What’s your most annoying habit?

My husband tells me that it’s leaving my toothbrush at the end of the bath.  I’m not irritating!

JOKER … What’s your favourite joke (the one that makes you laugh every time you hear it)?

What’s the difference between kinky and perverse?

Kinky is using a feather, perverse is using the whole chicken!

KENNEL … Do you have any pets?

We have two cats and two (stinking) goldfish.  I would love to have my old dog Ralfie back but he’s now in doggie heaven.

LOVE … Are you single, married, engaged, living with a long term partner?

I am married (17 years) to my soul mate and bestest friend ever.  With him by my side, anything is possible.  (but not the whole chicken!)

MEAL … What’s your ultimate starter, main and dessert?

As much as I’m a bit of a foodie, I think I’d go pretty retro with a prawn and avocado salad, steak and salad followed by cheese and biscuits.

NOW … If you could be anywhere right now where would you be and who with?

With my sister and having a laugh - unlikely and not happened for a while but I live in hope.

OFF DUTY … What do you do in your spare time?

Listen to music, read, play Guitar Hero with hubbie and son, have mad dinner parties with friends, knit, make cards, cook and visit charity shops.  Addicted to Gold TV when the Writing Fairy abandons me.

PROUD MOMENTS … What are you most proud of?

My proudest moment was giving birth to a fantastic son (natch!).  I’m also proud of my marriage, my mother and my nephew.

QUEASY … What turns your stomach?

Apart from the obvious - pee, poo and blood - the thought of anything happening to one of my loved ones can have me rushing to the loo.

RELAX … How do you relax?

I do yoga three times a week but wine is much nicer.  You can’t combine the two though, I’ve tried.

SONG … What’s your favourite song of all time?

‘Picture in a Frame’ by Tom Waits.  Not the prettiest voice in the world but listening to it makes me think of my lovely dad (although he’d never heard it - it’s all in the words).

TIME … If you could go back in time and relive it again, when would you choose?

Probably our wedding day.  I would say the day I gave birth, but getting married was more fun, less painful and didn’t involve gas and air.

UNKNOWN … Tell us something about yourself that no one else knows?

I’m very open and honest so I can’t think of anything.  I once had sex with Richard Gere?  Will that do?

VOCAL … Who is your favourite artist?

Being greedy once more - Bowie, Tom Waits, Ella Fitzgerald, Curtis Stigers, Manilow, The Beatles.  The list is endless.

WORK … What’s your dream job and are you doing it now?

Writing or acting.  Have had a go at both and am still finding my way.

XRAY … Any broken bones?

No but I suffer from bouts of sciatica due to a recurring disc bulge.

YIKES … What’s been your most embarrassing moment?

Too many to mention!  I covered these in My Watermelon Moments.

ZOO … If you were an animal, which one would you be?

I really wouldn’t want to be a zoo animal - they live outdoors and I like my creature comforts.  Please can I be a pampered pooch or lap cat?

I now tag my fellow “Fabulous Feisty Indies” writers, who I know will rise to the challenge - Michelle Betham and Laurel Mayer.

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available at Amazon for Kindle.  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

Misfit Intermission

Mummy Misfit is approaching burnout!

I’ve posted a blog every single day since launching my book at the beginning of June and it’s starting to take its toll.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was the only thing I had to think about but, of course, life’s not like that is it?

I spend a good part of each day promoting my book and working on my new one.  I also care for my elderly mother and crack the whip over a teenage son.  Somewhere in all this, I have a life too.  Somewhere!

So I’ve made the decision to start blogging weekly.  I don’t feel like I’m selling out as I did when I considered cutting back in the past.  I just feel I have to step back a bit to save my sanity.

And you wouldn’t want to be reading the ramblings of a mad woman anyway, would you?  Although, I admit, sometimes this blog has been a little on the wacky side.

So from now on I shall only be blogging on a Wednesday.  I’m hoping my lovely loyal followers, here and on Twitter, won’t feel that I’m letting them down, but I just feel that the time is right to take a change in direction.

I’ve not taken this decision lightly.  I’ve spoken to other bloggers and writers and I haven’t come across many who manage to blog every day.  It’s a huge commitment and, as I’ve covered a wide variety of subjects that continue to generate traffic to my blog (and hence my book), I feel I can now afford myself the luxury of taking my foot off the pedal for a bit.

Hopefully, if I complete this next manuscript quickly and get snapped up by a savvy publisher, I’ll have lots of exciting news to share with you and more time to share it.

So … remember, check in every Wednesday for a touch of Mummy Misfit.  Follow me on Twitter and I’ll send you a reminder.

This is not goodbye, just à bientôt.

If you’re going to miss my daily blog, why not give my novel a read instead?  ‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ is available on Amazon for Kindle, PC or Smartphone.  Check out my reviews, you won’t be disappointed!  Now also in paperback at Lulu.

Signing up for Strictly

So, ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ has started again - must mean winter’s on its way.

I’m not one of those who watches it religiously but, if we’re around, we like to see what’s going on in the glam world of sequins and stardust.

I’ve always believed that the programme could be taken further.  Why can’t we have a ‘non celebrity’ version?  ‘Big Brother’ and ‘Come Dine With Me’ can do it, why can’t ‘Strictly’?

This had me asking myself, would I or wouldn’t I?

THE PROS

The gorgeous outfits and the time spent in make up and hair.  OK some of the outfits are a bit OTT and I’d imagine it would take several hours to scrape off the war-paint and the fake tan before looking totally normal - but I’d lap it up. 

The weight loss - a real bonus for most of the contestants.  What a fun way to lose those pounds.  Even if they didn’t drop off, everything would be more toned and flexible.  Bring it on!

The yummy dance partners - a huge incentive.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for romance or even a tiny flirtation.  I’d go for the ones with a sense of humour (they’d be dancing with me, so they’d need it).  Yes, give me Brendan Cole or Anton Du Beck and I’d be happy.  You can keep your greasy looking, cheeky slime balls - give me a bit of a laugh!

Meeting Brucie, Len and Bruno - how fab!  It would just make my day - or even longer if I survived.  Sir Bruce, at last - took a while but he got there in the end.  Len is just a legend and I want to give him a big hug and, as for Bruno, so rude and so funny all at the same time.

The satisfaction of having a professional teach me how to dance properly - what an opportunity!  Imagine.  The next time I hit the dance floor at a social occasion - I could wow people with my moves.  Dragging hubbie around the floor in my wake.

THE CONS (based on the pros)

Sooo … the outfits are great but they’re also quite revealing.  My legs are OK so, no problem there but some of them show bottom cheeks and belly buttons.  I’m not saying I want to be treated as an Ann Widdecombe or an Edwina Currie and disguised in floor length chiffon, but I’d be slightly concerned if I saw a G-string and a bra as my outfit for the week.

The weight drops off because of the sheer hard work and stress.  What if I couldn’t remember all the moves and made a complete plonker of myself?  I remember at drama school, I’d always get the dance routines in the end!  I’d never be happy with just taking the info and getting on with it.  I always had to perfect each move and then move on.

If it took me too long to pick up a move, would my gorgeous dance partner find that his sense of humour had deserted him?  I can just see myself being flung across the floor for the umpteenth time - but not as a sexy move, just in anger.  How long would their patience last?  And imagine the embarrassment of totally ballsing up on the live show - that would surely get you an Anton hissy-fit and a tongue-lashing from the evil Craig Revel Horwood.

The judges don’t hold back on their comments, do they?  I’m a big softie and if they said my bum wobbled or my face looked like a rabbit in the headlights, I’d probably just splutter and blub.  I just know I’d get that horrible hot feeling and go to pieces - not a good look with all that make-up going on.

The professional can impart all his knowledge and try to get me on track, but what if nothing works for me and I’m still pants?  Or … even worse … what if I think  I’ve mastered the moves and I go out there strutting my stuff with confidence and I look like a dork?  I then head off to my next social occasion and hit the dance floor, only to have everyone saying, “Mmm?  Didn’t learn much, did she?”

So, ‘Strictly’?  Would I or wouldn’t I?

You bet your bottom dollar I would!

Would YOU?

Diary of a Mummy Misfit is available at Amazon for Kindle. Now also in paperback at Lulu.

When Fiction Seeks Facts

Today I’m being interviewed by Libby, the main character in ‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’.

She came to my modest town house and shared a coffee in my kitchen.  It was good to see her after taking so long to create her.

“So, Amanda, why did you decide to write the diary?”

Well, Libby, my son has been in private education since he was four and, like you, we’ve struggled financially.  I realised I had a wealth of information and funny stories at my fingertips.  Hubbie and I chatted and realised there was a book waiting to happen.

“So, does that mean it’s all true?

No, most definitely not.  My characters are a complete mish-mash of people I’ve met over the years and the majority of the events are figments of my imagination.

“As the main character, do I represent you?”

Now that’s a tricky one to answer.  There are elements of me in you and I most certainly had the feeling of ‘not belonging’ many times.  I’ve also had those feelings of being out of my depth but I think I’m really much more like Scottish Lou - the overly protective, paranoid mum … yes that’s actually me!

“You must have had fun writing the gorgeous Fenella?  Does she really exist?”

I loved creating Fenella - I think she’s an absolute hoot.  Of course she doesn’t really exist - she’s a smidgeon of a friend, a sprinkling of Margo Ledbetter from ‘The Good Life’ and a hint of Patsy from ‘Ab Fab’.  None of my characters are based fully on true life - that would be boring.

“Do you plan on taking your characters further in a sequel?”

I’ve already completed the synopsis and written the first 20% - some new characters and a slightly darker plot - but it’s on hold for a while as I’m working on a new project.  If a publisher decided snap me up and wanted a sequel, I’d knuckle down and get it out there as soon as possible.

“Does that mean you write quickly?

I wrote the diary in three months and then spent many months editing and revising.  I also completed word cuts and amendments for two publishers - this gave me the final manuscript.  Once I have an idea, I plan roughly and then fly with it.  I love it when the characters tell me what should be happening and I enjoy the surprises they throw at me as they take on a life of their own.

“What was your reason for publishing in your maiden name?

The honest answer to that is … I’m a coward!  I’m only in contact with one of the mums from my son’s prep school and she’s completely in the picture(she was the next person to read the book after my hubbie) but I didn’t want the other mums to know I’d written a book.  If they find out, that’s fine, but I just didn’t feel comfortable going public and having tongues wagging.

“Finally, were you ever tempted to let me have a fling with Pritesh?”

Ooh, Libby, you almost make it sound like you would have enjoyed it!  No, course I wouldn’t let you get up to anything with him - your marriage to Ned is far too strong.  Who knows what I’ve got in store for you in the next book though.

At this point Libby brought the interview to a close with a little blush.  Maybe she does have a bit of a soft spot for Pritesh?

To find out more about Libby’s life and the dramas of being a prep-school mum, head over to Amazon and download for Kindle, PC or Smartphone.  Now also available in paperback at Lulu.

My (not so) Sporting Career

My son is now happily installed in sixth form and loving the grown up feeling of being top of the tree.  His school phobia is a thing of the past (see older post) and everything’s going swimmingly.

Well almost …

We still have an issue with sport.

Due to his problems in the past, his school have been very lenient as regards his participation.  Being younger than his class mates, football and rugby have terrified the living daylights out of him - some of those kids are big!  He’s taken part in tennis and some circuit training but that’s about as far as it goes.  He’s a fantastic social cricketer (seriously, he’s a natural) but hides his light under a bushel and has yet to showcase his talents at school.

This year there are more options open to him - they have the use of a local gym, can swim and also take part in classes like Boxercise.

And yet he’s still squirming and trying to find any excuse to dodge it - I’m waiting for him to pull the ‘I’ve got my period’ trick because, trust me, that was one of my personal favourites and he’ll try anything!

Is it something in the genes?

Let me share my school sporting history with you and let you decide for yourself.

I once spent a lovely afternoon day-dreaming on the field during a game of rounders.  I was quickly brought back to life with a swift whack to the head by a rounders ball - they are hard!

Being tall for my age, it was expected that I would be good at netball.  By the age of nine, my classmates knew never to pick me as a team member.  I galloped around the court like Bambi on speed, totally useless but embarrassingly enthusiastic.

This led to the downfall of my sporting career.  I wanted to be good at netball and wasn’t, so what was the point in bothering with anything else?  Long jump would be my thing, I was told.  Long legs must mean you’re good at long jump, surely?  No, again useless.  Wobbly, skinny Bambi legs were just unable to co-ordinate themselves to do what they were meant to do, resulting in a flying leap of faith that achieved nothing but giving me a face full of sand.

Soon after this I cottoned on to the fact that girls were using the ‘period trick’ to be excused from sport.  The amount of periods I said I had should really have had the teachers seeking medical help for me but at least they didn’t have to waste any more time trying to find my sporting niche.

Cross country running in a gym-slip, Aertex top and bottle green knickers during the dead of winter is just cruel.  I can remember my legs resembling tins of mottled corned beef, my ears aching with the cold and my eyes streaming (not good when you’ve slapped on layers of black eyeliner and caked mascara).  Desperate times called for desperate measures.  Three of us decided that this lesson was inhumane.  So we took it into our own hands.  We’d set off with everyone else, make it look like we were in it for the duration and then hide in the bushes behind some trees.  An hour later, as the goody-two shoes returned to the starting point, we would time it to perfection and join them looking exhausted.  Many hours were spent in those bushes discussing the merits of David Bowie or Bryan Ferry - a much healthier way to spend an afternoon!

In my final year at secondary school, we were playing a netball match and one of our team members lost a rather unsavoury looking sanitary towel on the court.  This would have been embarrassing for her except for the fact that good old Bambi here leapt into the area just as it landed, so everyone thought it was mine!

Enough to put you off sport for life, I tell you.

I’m still hoping that my son will take the bull by the horns and get involved in some sort of sport this year - he’s a growing lad (tall and stick thin) and exercise will be good for him.

But with my track record, I’m not really in a position to lecture am I?

Fancy giving an eBook a go?  Check out ‘Diary of a Mummy Misfit’ on Amazon.  You can download to Kindle, PC or Smartphone with a free app.  Now also available in paperback at Lulu.