for all we know

Is there ever a right time to say 'I told you so'?

Guaranteed to plant a seed of teenage rage when spoken from the mouths of our parents, do we forget the weight of these four little words as we get older? 

Having long since passed the forty barrier, I am presented with regular opportunities to set up my stall and hold my ' I knew this would happen' banner aloft.

I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm not saying I haven't made mistakes (Lord knows I've made enough mistakes to record a Blues album). And yet, whilst age doesn't always bring wisdom, it certainly brings experience.  So surely I'm allowed a little bit of #post-forty gloating? 

I, usually, attempt to disguise this as concern and commiseration.

Example 1: 

"Oh so your teacher did mean for you to explain how the character reacted rather than retell the whole story."

(subtext) Do you remember when I told you to do that but you ignored me because even though you've just started high school and I've been teaching for 20 years, clearly you know better?

Example 2:

"Oh no, really, she cried for hours whilst *insert partner's name* went out to get formula. I know, breastfeeding is hard but yes, you did give it a go and as long as she's fed eventually, right?"

(subtext) Remember that time I told you that breastfeeding can be great but isn't for everyone so, just in case, chuck a tin of formula in the back of your cupboard so it's there when your boobs and baby aren't co-operating? Having been through it three times I find that with ninety nine breastfeeding issues, using formula ain't one.

Example 3:

"Ok, so you know when I told you to make sure you start the bedtime routine an hour before lights out and leave the DVD for tomorrow, was to save you from the nightmare moment when the girls turn on you and then each other like gremlins after midnight"

(subtext) Read above

Gah, I sound so self-righteously smug, don't I? But look, surely after all this time schlepping around Planet My Life, I've learnt some stuff on the way and, occasionally, I want to save people the trouble of making the same mistakes I did.

Because I love hearing other people's advice and experiences; especially other parents and other women. What's better than sharing a being a mum / wife / woman  dilemma with a good friend? Why take the unknown high road when, sometimes, the path with the flashing signs and clearly marked dangers can make life that little bit easier? 

After listening to the trials, tribulations and triumphs of others, I usually end up with a bag of solutions and leave thinking that it's not just me who's bumbling precariously through my every day. We're all at it!

So surely, we can all crack an 'I told you so' every now and then?

Point of note - beware of overuse!

With the offspring - choose your moment carefully as the mistimed 'ITYS' may result in much sulking and grunts in place of speech.

With the newbie mother or sibling - dress it up like your child's first ever World Book Day at school because the naked 'ITYS' will be akin to sticking your tongue out and going nah nah nah nah naaaa. And no-one likes that person.

With the live-in significant other - treat it like foundation: cover all necessary areas then apply a little make-up.  Failing that - a well placed eyebrow lift can also effective

With the mother-in-law - leave it, it's just not worth it.

i hope you dance

Credit : https://www.facebook.com/budsandbranchesphotography/

I've always said I'm not raising girls, I'm raising women. The woman I am today is a direct reflection of the women I have come into contact with over the last 40 plus years. Whether the experience is inspirational, heart-warming, frustrating or downright infuriating, I've learnt much from many.

And so on International Women's Day 2017 I cast my mind to my future hopes for my three daughters.

I hope, first and foremost, that they are happy and healthy and look forward to waking up in the morning. But if at anytime, life's path gets too rocky, I hope they have choices to help them through the difficulty days.

I hope they find comfort when they look back on their childhood. That they are warmed by the memory of dancing in the kitchen and re-tell stories of their misdemeanours to the next generation. That the music and the clothes and the photos will be looked upon with smiles because the happy outweighs the sad.

I hope they seek guidance from the women in their family and friendship circles.  That they know who to turn to and to trust when, maybe, I am not enough. Right now, the women who fill our lives are honest and loving and spiritual and hilarious and carry each other in their hearts.

I hope they develop a voice that enables them to speak up for themselves, to speak out against wrongs, to ask for support when they feel downtrodden, to give advice when they are experienced enough to provide it. To say sorry but only if they mean it.

I hope they achieve what they set out to achieve.  That they follow their passions and share their enthusiasms and that they are able to carve escapes out of their ruts.  That they are encouraged by other women to succeed and then, in turn, lower the ladder for others to follow.

And lastly, I hope that they can spend time with each other to smile and laugh and cry and argue. That their sisterly ties become secure over time, distance and life. And I hope they dance together in their kitchens.

i'm every woman

When this week comes around there are reams of online reading raising the profile and highlighting the names and careers of women past, present and future. We are educated about the challenges, the successes and the aspirations of the woman in the street, on the screen, in our homes, in power - of their lives and the lives of others.

Surveys and Twitter feeds ask us to nominate the leading women in our world; who has inspired us and who are our role models?

The answer to this is easy for me and I'd often trip off a few names; Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Malorie Blackman, Michelle Obama, Shonda Rimes, Caitlin Moran, Sophie Okonedo, Malala Yousafzai, Maggie Alphonsi, Kelly Holmes, Maggie Aderin-Pocock If I could create a wallpaper with their faces on I would decorate my house as a daily reminder to my daughters of what they could achieve and who's lives they can be inspired by.

This year I'm thinking a little differently. My career break has given me back a wealth of time, which in turn has opened my eyes and ears to the women in my family and friendship circles that are just wonderfully amazing and I love that they are part of my 40+ years.

To the women who share my bloodline. You are the women who have smiles that open up a history of motherhood and sisterhood and parenthood. When oceans and motorways and disagreements have divided our families you have manoeuvred mountains to bring us closer together so that our children may learn from our past in order to secure their future and also watch us dance and groove in our inimitable way. We are fiercely protective together, lovingly gentle and wise between our generations. I love you all.

To the women I have met through my decades. You are the women that share my tragedies of hairstyles, that approved (or disapproved) of menfolk, that lent shoulders when those menfolk were not the right ones, that raised my spirits when I was sinking, that pushed me higher when I was choosing to settle.  When I shutdown in radio silence you are the women that text-nag me, that remind me you are there, that shake my happy out of the gloom.  We are hilarious together and without words can start a belly laugh or cut a side-eye about the one, same thing. I love you all.

At birthdays, at marriages, at funerals, in the classrooms, in the pubs and clubs, in the coffeeshop, in the park, at the school gate, in the office, online, in your house and always in my house you have stood with me and I hope you will grant me the honour of standing with you - in our Wonder Woman power pose - today and tomorrow.

Happy International Women's Day.

ladies first

After a productive editor's meeting with the Post40Bloggers gang I was pleasantly surprised to find a nomination from lovely Lara at Life and Love in London for The Sisterhood of the World Blog Awards.  Thanks Lara!

So the deal is I answer 10 questions set by Lara then pass on 10 questions of my own to more beautiful bloggers that I follow.

What's my favourite way to relax?  Well there isn't usually a huge amount of relaxing time but honestly I love nothing better that curling up on my sofa with a massive cup of coffee, a bar of chocolate and a box set of some trashy American drama - at the moment it's catching up with the whole of Grey's Anatomy whilst waiting for Scandal to return. 

My superpower would be to turn back time - I know I know we should get to 40plus and accept the past but there are so many decisions and choices that I would tweak - nothing drastic. Revise for that exam a little more; not wear that outfit to work that day; not go on a date with that guy but mainly to not be so scared and take those risks.

My teen crush was Michael J Fox, Keanu Reeves, River Pheonix, Judd Nelson, Matthew Broderick...oh, oh you said one. *blushes*

The actress to play me in a film of my life would be well as much as I'd like to say Naomi Harris or Kerry Washington because they are soooo glamorous and have played roles that are strong and challenge norms, plus I'm sure I'd get to hang out with them. But I'd probably ask for  Whoopi Goldberg. Not so much because she looks like me but moreso because I loved everything she's done especially star in my favourite novel adaptation The Colour Purple and my fashion sense and personality was pretty much modelled on her character in Jumpin Jack Flash (1986).

My last supper would be a proper Sunday Roast - Caribbean style. Yes there's the chicken and veg and roast potatoes but add rice&peas, macaroni cheese and coleslaw and I am 12 again sat round the Sunday table listening to the reggae with David Rodigan

My ultimate holiday destination would be Maui, Hawaii. This has got to be the place to let go of all the worry and rushing of day to day life. Donning my Turn-Back-Time-Woman superhero cape I'd settle down back in 2004, hang out in Lehane and sell arty stuff to tourists and write adventure books for kids. But I would have a sneaky holiday to New York and London each year - for when the peace and quiet gets too much.

The seemingly little thing that annoys me beyond reason is social rudeness on all levels - barging in a queue, talking loudly on mobile phones, tutting at people with buggies, stopping in the middle of the street to text and not picking up your dog's poop.  Aaaarrrgggghhhhh!

If I had to choose between Paris or Vegas it would definitely be Paris. What a beautiful, historical, energetic city. Actually Vegas is one of those places that I have never desired to visit - even if I had a free ticket. 

My hero is um, well I don't really have one in particular. I am inspired by people that are in my personal circles or celebrities - past and present - regularly but couldn't actually set my sights on one particular person. I've recently written about how Malorie Blackman is incredibly inspiring to me at the moment and I am intrigued and excited by the changes that Lenny Henry has made in his professional career, yet I have been surrounded by sheroes who are family and friends.

If I could be anybody besides myself I would be me version2 - one that doesn't need to wish to be Turn-Back-Time Woman because I took all the right roads. A kind of upgraded me. But if I really had to chose I'd happily be Michelle Obama (FLOTUS) for a day...who's there with me?

Now you know all my shizzle I'm hoping that the following #post40bloggers will answer my 10 questions:

Off you go 

Emma at Emma Davies Photography

Lady Liberty at The Awesome Hen

Fiona at A View from the bed

Suzanne at 3 children and it

Siobhan at Everyone else is normal
Nikki at Typecast

1. If you could do anything tomorrow what would you do?

2. Cats or dogs?

3. What is your karaoke go-to song?

4. What would be your Starbucks name? Or if you could choose another first name what would it be?

5. Which colour best represents you?

6. What makes you really, really happy?

7. What decade would you like to go back to?

8. Which colour represents you?

9. Rename yourself as a Mr. Men or Little Miss character

10. Choose a book that you could rave about for ages.

These are the rules…

• Give thanks to the blogger who gave you the award and link back to their blog
• Answer the 10 questions given to you
• Nominate more bloggers for the award
• Write 10 questions for your nominees to answer
• Display the award on your blog or post

woman

It is not possible to summarise the experience of attending Women of the World (WOW) festival in London this week. So I won't try. I would almost certainly do it a disservice. What I will share are some the conversations, sorrows, opinions, theories, attitudes, strength and joy that crested along the Southbank with women of all creeds, colours, religions, shapes, sexual preferences, political persuasions. 

I often wonder whether people on the outside look in and think 'What the hell? It must be all periods, hating on men and bra burning in there'. I wish I had a word for me rolling my eyes, putting my hands on my hips and wagging my finger saying m-m-m (you know the sound I'm making right?)

Let me give you a little taste of what the hell was going on in there. Well in my little corners of the Southbank anyway. 

A celebration of womanhood and feminism. A cacophony of agreeing and dissenting voices about the choices we make as women. A plethora of reasons that justify those choices. A proverbial Jacob's Ladder of ideas that when shared left us emotionally charged to make changes wherever we may choose.  That word - choose / choice - was extremely important during this weekend. I have heard women rage against the situations they find themselves in when they are ignored in the workplace or touched without permission in the street. I mean how have we not moved away from this yet - in 2015? We are still hearing evidence of the gap between men and women when it comes to pay or promotion to director level. Poet Bridget Minamore opened a talk on 'Who owns your body?' with rhymes about a women's experience when put in the position where you are frightened because a guy is walking behind you, a guy who doesn't understand the fear that consumes you until he crosses over or moves past you. Have you ever done that walk in the dark with your keys in your hand? I wonder how many men consider the thought processes and contingency plans a woman makes when she is in this position?

As always, journalist and curator Hannah Pool brought together female speakers and panels to raise the profile of feminist issues: be it the body politic, race, representation in the media, sex or empowerment. I think Hannah Pool is brilliant. She is one of those women that I would like my daughters to be inspired by: she brings a excited calmness to the a stage and whilst allowing speakers to divulge their views with a sense of freedom, she continues to question and include the listeners experience.  Bringing women, such as Leyla Hussein in to these forums to discuss  how women's bodies are perceived and Dr Shirley Tate to theorise about how historic references to the black female form has affected the social 'norms' in today's conscience, is paramount to ensuring that we continually question the way we see ourselves through social and populist prisms. The brilliant part of these sessions are the Q and As where voices from the floor testify and align themselves with speakers or indeed other voices from amongst the plastic chairs. I might prickle with a teacher's annoyance when women behind me lament their opposition against a lone voice, but who cares? The discussion is being had and it's clear that these discussions will go home with these women; it will make us think and share what we think and want to share with other women. And so the conversations continue.

This year the feminist that I want to wave and shout 'Hey girl!'at is Feminista Jones. Go and read her stuff to find out what she's about - I cannot (and would dare not) paraphrase this  compelling woman. I believe this is a woman we all need to hear when we all become a bit browbeaten. Or when we become a little too submerged in 'me' and need to remind ourselves of the 'she' that is out there. I got a little bit stalkerish of both Mses Pool and Jones and was lucky enough to attend three sessions they were involved in. But good for me because each time I walked out of a room and into another one I felt taller. I'm still feeling taller. Why? There is no one answer. None of the women I heard this weekend had magic wands but there were definitely some moments of wisdom that I have tucked away in a mind-pocket for a crappy-me day. But moreso I took the opportunity to rub shoulders, squish up on seats, clap, nod and 'oh yes' with other woman over issues that we believe are important. There is great strength to be gained when we affirm who we are and what we believe in within the safe circle of like-minded people. I say like-minded but there is nothing I like better than a good ole 'I understand what you're saying, but..." type discussion. So I guess we were like-minded in that our experiences as women crossed over at times and we were there to improve our own happenings.

Week(end)s like this matter so much because when we can get so bogged down in the minutiae of our days and the days of others, we can forget to listen to each other. 

So even though I said I wasn't going to paraphrase Feminista Jones, I am a strong believer in the power of pay-it-forward.  So the really good stuff that I hope you can tuck in your mind-pocket were :

The woman you are today is worthy of love, admiration and respect

We must share our stories because we are not alone, and we never know who is listening

We shouldn't doubt or compare ourselves with others

Simple tings no? Maybe, and I hope that deep down we all knew this stuff anyway. Yet it can be all too easy to forget for ourselves and also ignore when we see that others are not able to see it in themselves. Both Feminista Jones and Hannah Pool are pioneers of activist movements for the protections of others who may not be in the position to protect themselves: street harassment and FGM for starters. 

I have often said (and written) that I regularly find my chutzpah by being around other women. We often provide a collective to create a bridge needed for the women around us to conquer obstacles. But I wonder how often we can sometimes be the barrier?  How do you see yourself amongst female company in your life? A bridge or a barrier?

Oh and P.S Get yo'self down to WOW next year

independent women

Fantastic Day at the Southbank.  A day of inspiration, experience and knowledge sharing.  I don’t agree with everything I have heard today, but I’m not expected to. The conversations and raising of issues is what this weekend is all about.

What are we teaching our young women and little girls today?  How are we guiding them to reach their full potential and aspirations that maybe society doesn't readily promote?  I listened to a space scientist today? And Maggie Aderin-Pocock rocked!

Coming together with black women who have loved and loathed their hair and now have a contrast of opinions about how, what and why we do what we do with our hair.  Do Caucasian women have the same dilemmas? Does hair choice affect them the same it does me? I heard today that we must be more than our hair, our identity should outweigh what is growing out of our heads.  On one level, yeah sure. But I know, and some of you out there know the difference that feeling good about your hair can have on your day, your week, your career!

Blogging is now part of my daily life. Reading, commenting, writing and telling other people to start one too – usually when they’re moaning off to me about something. Get it off your chest…start a blog.  The newbies and expert bloggers I met today were so diverse. But we all had something to say.  For a person who normally chews the ears of family and friends, I found I had lost my voice in crowds today – don’t worry, I told myself, you can blog about it later. So what did I learn? Research, be true and happy with your blog and make sure you eidt…cough…edit.

Is Feminist a dirty word? Is the journey to power and success the same for black and white women?  Who are the role models for the young generation and why?  You know, I hear these discussions and think that 1 hour is just not enough; these theories need to be ongoing. And not just with us adults, what do our young women think?  We cannot step in their shoes and argue for them; our experience was different (as it was for our mothers) and in order to make a real change, they must be present to hear our herstory.

For me, this WOW was different. For the first time, I saw faces similar to mine, I heard voices relevant to me, and I met some wonderfully beautiful women Lulu and Vanessa.I was happily exhausted travelling home tonight, will I have the energy to do this all again on Sunday?  Hell to the Yeah!

Goodnight London, wherever you are.

Four Women

For one lowly individual on this Mother Earth, I am made up of four diverse women.

FirstShe is earnest and keen. She has her sights set on a different prize everyday. FirstShe is a glass half-full kinda woman. She is aware of her challenges and this doesn't faze her; in fact this is what gets her out of bed in the morning; the relish of the challenge. FirstShe loves being with people and seems to be able to find those who will support her, and guide her. FirstShe is carefree. She is a shining star who spends an extraordinary amount of time planning her next steps.  Time doesn’t move fast enough for FirstShe, yet there is this niggling feeling that she is always running out of time.  FirstShe is passionate about people, about things, about emotions.  She trusts and loves hard but if you cross her, she can hate hard too.  Well, maybe not hate – that seems too harsh a word.  She may feel like she hates but it appears to others as though she is unforgiving and cold.  But truly, it’s the opposite because she burns inside when she is let down; burns with hurt.  At times she burns with a rage but she doesn’t show or tell this to others.  She just moves on to the next thing, project, person, feeling.  Now FirstShe can be inspirational and the wings beneath the desire of others.  FirstShe is striving to be the woman that she wants her daughters to be, she sees it in them already – that fire that flickers in the eyes of the young, threatening to grow into a wild bushfire.  Unlike the dying embers that is visual in the aging generations.  But FirstShe is difficult to be around all of the time, she exhausts others and frustrates them.  FirstShe does not like to sit down.

Unlike SecondShe.  Who could sit, lie and sleep until time runs out.  SecondShe is burnt out.  Her star faded many, many moons ago and she has neither time, inclination or energy to reignite herself.  SecondShe has seen her strength diminish over the years; battered by daily grind of work, motherhood and wifery.  There are mornings where she is unable to exist at all.  Her feet move, her heart beats and she dutifully functions with the grace of an obsolete robot.  She is distant from those around her, unable to connect with the banter required of the working mother.  SecondShe hides from her children; she is ashamed and fears that her presence will taint their youthful vigour.  She is diseased; at times riddled with a deadness that can paralyse her completely.  There are those in her life who understand her and she knows they are constantly offering a helping hand, but that’s an effort – to request, explain or quantify her existence.  So she remains concealed.  Shut behind literal and metaphorical doors SecondShe allows herself days where she parades in her melancholic glory. SecondShe is envious of FirstShe but is smug she isn’t ThirdShe.

Duty. Chained. Prisoner. ThirdShe.  There are roles we all play in the various circles of our lives.  ThirdShe acknowledges who she is and knows her place.  Day to day she strives to maintain the equilibrium of those around her.  Juggling the spheres of her existence she paints a smile or a frown if required. And ticks all the boxes.

FourthShe is loved by all.  A dreamer excitedly tripping through a plethora of beings. Who can she be today? What can she achieve tomorrow? FourthShe lives her life in colour. Shedding the monochrome palette of ThirdShe, she breathes in nature’s elements and strides through the lives of others in a rainbow.  Creating life, laughter, art, happiness, IDEAS.  FourthShe endeavours to colour the lives of the otherShes. She dismisses boundaries and pursues pleasure with limitless energy.

To make a Me, I have to love, cherish and accept all these Shes. They are borne of my experience, my surroundings, my ups and my downs.  Some days one She may be louder than another, one may suppress or support another.  I am still learning to be kind to all of them, and to me. 
Celebrating International Women.  

Everybody hurts

Days like these are becoming too regular lately. My morning is by the mother of all clouds. I get through the day on a crutch of a smile, so that Geordie Lad and the 3G are none the wiser. By nightfall I no longer have the strength to resist; I allow the mist to settle and it feels like someone is kicking me down a bottomless pit.

I had thought about writing in depth about what it's like; to give some insight to those who see me through the dark days. However after a long, warm shower, the crewof5 asleep (well except me, obviously, but settled in bed so near enough!), and 3 hours of catch up iplayer I am resurfacing and feel that a lighter approach is called for.

And this is the thing, this is how my days, months, years, decades go. Not to the dizzying heights or hellish holes of my twenties, but still - it's all or nothing most of the time. It's exhausting you know, and not just for me I'm sure.

I know there are people in my life who just don't get me when I'm like I'm am, there are people in my life who don't know I am like I am, and there are people who accept the me I am. I belong in the first category. I refuse to accept it is okay to be like this, I get that it's natural and can't be helped, but why must it continue. I look around me and mine and we're okay; so why the misery, the insecurity, the self-damnation. I want to do and see and live so much, yet it feels like I have stone shoes on - co-ordinated with concrete coat and hard hat. I'm convinced there is a parallel me out there with a super smile and living my earthly me's dreams. 

So what gets me out of the hole? (I have just read a fantastic and insightful blog and learnt that this can also be referred to as the black dog) Music on the very bad days. I can barely move on these days but within 5 minutes of some good tunes, I am dancing like it's 1999 - literally, I was 28 then and a mover on the dancefloor!  Most of the time, my 3G and Geordie Lad see me right. Then there is my cushion of womenfolk. Some I see often, some when needed, and some not nearly enough, and one is missing...but that's for another day.

Goodnight London, wherever you are.