red mum

We had the pleasure of minding a pygmy hedgehog over the last couple of weeks and I finally had time over the weekend during daylight hours to get some snaps of The Hedge – okay okay, thats what we called him, his real name is Snowy! He’s gone home now and this is all I managed to get that are publishable anyway.

It turned out that The Hedge actually thought he was a ninja turtle with amazing powers of escape as on more than one occasion he managed to get out of his box, onto the kitchen table and then onto the floor. (The first I know is when I heard this shuffling and then saw his wee head poke around the settee.) The Young Wan has a blurred pic of his wee paw at the top of the box on route to escape and I’ve another of his two back paws cutely dangling from a boot.

Obviously you can imagine Honey the dog’s reaction to this intruder! Even though I wasn’t going to risk any confrontation I am quite sure that The Hedge would win

I thought I would share one of the pics I’m putting into the book I’ve been doing for her 18th. The first one was taken nearly 16 years ago when I was visiting a friend in Portstewart. I think it was Feb/March and freezing and we had a very wet, wild and windy walk on the beach. I took pics that weekend, well I must have because I brought my camera, but I cannot for the life of remember what they were or where they are. This is the one pic I think of from that weekend and it was taken by my pal.

I do remember that the negative was blackly dense and completely under exposed. But when printing up the other pics (that I have no recollection of) as I slide the negative through the holder I realised there was something on the negative. So a little bit of messing about later I found this, its of me and the Young Wan walking on the beach. And I love it.

The banding in the pic is probably down to my not leaving it in the stop bath for long enough and its faded over the years. But still its one of my favourites, the others are just very cute

If I was to tell you everything that has been happening to me lately you wouldn’t believe it. Most of it I probably won’t share here, but I figured, after some debate with myself and a chat with the Young Wan, to share one monumental thing that has taken place. After all this blog has been described by me as ‘the times and perils of a single parent’, a statement I wrote on the very first night and this post, however it comes out, is so ingrained in that.

In the depths of the blog I have written about bringing up herself on my own, her father has not been in the picture for many years, 13 to be exact. While I could blog at length about it I won’t and will just say the scenario where her father would not be in her life was not something I ever wanted, to the point where I bent over backwards to help him in his fatherhood. So bringing up my daughter on my own was how it was. I kept up her relationship with his family and while it was hard to explain to her for the first number of years, actually saying it was hard is like saying giving birth is relatively easy, as time went by, she stopped asking about him. We would still talk about him occasionally and I never badmouthed him. During that time we learned he had a son, something the Young Wan found incredibly hard to deal with, there was nothing she would have loved more than to have a sibling. (This is an amazingly breezed over version of that time but you understand.)

Anyway that brings us up to recently. Over the last while she has talked sometimes about contacting him. And I will admit to not over enthusiastic about it, how could I. It seemed to me that he needed to take the lead in that, he needed to pull himself up to the father table and it never happened. What if it was a letdown, if she was let down, hurt again. And, let me be perfectly clear about it before I go on, while I always thought you just cannot come back into a child’s life after not being there for so many years; I was always very clear with her that it was not up to me, it is her father, not mine, and whatever she wants is up to her.

So this was hanging about for a while and before the summer, we were on Facebook (where bloody else) and through the Young Wan’s aunt, we saw him. And she added him which started off a chain of events that has led to herself meeting her father in recent weeks. It was a very tense, nervous event and it went well. So he went home and told his son about her, he’s nine years old and had no idea he had an older sister and he was very thrilled.

The next weekend they all met at granny’s and awkwardness aside things went brilliantly. Both the Young Wan and her brother are delighted to have met each other, to have each other; I actually got choked up reading one of her texts from over the weekend about him. I suppose that angered me a little too, with all the things that have gone on and people hurt – there was also a sister and brother who were denied each other. One thing I am completely sure about is that the two of them will be fine, it seems they are in awe and I am thankful and delighted for that.

One thing that bothers me is that while I realise there’s a certain amount of cotton-woolling when it comes to him, as (and I am stressing this) it should be, but I can’t help but wonder about the fact this was never offered to herself, at all. How and ever, I intend to have my say about this with him. I have allowed things to be organised with me in the background. But at the end of the day, she’s 17, she’s my baby and while a young woman, she is still very young and not equipped to deal with this on her own. So I need to step in now. When we do talk there won’t be a row, but I do need to offload some of what I have had to deal with over these years, how I had to break her heart because of things beyond my control (how angry at him that made me), how we’ve struggled, – I suppose I need some justice in this.

On one level I got to watch my/our (God it sounds mad to say something like that again after all this time) daughter grow up into a young woman. I saw her personality grow and grow with her, I saw all her landmarks, I can read her like a book, I know all her tricks, her foibles, her likes, dislikes, I know what she’ll get a kick out of and even if she doesn’t give me the credit I know what clothes she likes; and much, much more. And she me.

There isn’t a justice in knowing that; there is a poignancy in that he missed so much but I am her mother and I would kill people to get to her. (If that is ever used in a court of law against me, I am figuratively speaking ) I am also incredibly sad that she didn’t grow up with her father or indeed grow with her brother.

But as I said I will have my say and we will move onwards to some new stage, God knows how it will go, though I am more than optimistic this is a step forward and it is good.

THIS has to be a record, herself has been ‘doing’ the kitchen since 8pm, it is now 12.11am. When I say ‘doing’ obviously I mean talking on the phone, listening to music and dancing about like a mad thing.

You’d think there was loads to do, there wasn’t/isn’t. There were few dishes, groceries to put away and to clear away the corners where she has been cultivating the beginnings of clutter; you know the sort, tea-towels, tea-bags, ketchup, plates, etc.

Anyway I can hear her gabbing away, looks like she will be definitely beating her record this evening. So much for early to bed to start trying to get back into school mode!

I HAD Ellybabes over last night for dinner and I made this chicken dish (just the chicken part mind you) from Smitten Kitchen and lovely it was too.

But seeing as how my week was mad and seeing as how I was babysitting from early on Saturday I didn’t get to the shop and sent the Young Wan to the supermarket for the necessaries. And I wrote her a list too, but she seems to have an aversion to lists, always has done.

The amount of times I have discovered the long-listed note after she has left for the shop. Or indeed the amount of times she has come back, minus the note, and minus most of the main items and many additional new ones, I have lost count on both of those.

Even though this happens more than I’d like you would think that I would’ve learned by now, never mind herself. And once again over the weekend, she was sent to the supermarket with a list that I had put together over a while in between cleaning. One of the main ingredients was Parmesan, a small wedge, not flakes, not the one you get in a container; a small wedge of Parmesan.

So she phones from the supermarket and has forgotten the note, course at this stage so have I, all I can remember is Parmesan and eggs. Luckily the Young Wan remembers the bread crumbs but forgets, despite it being on the list and despite being told on the phone, the Parmesan.

Now she was in a rush to get out to the cinema but had been warned on the phone that if she forgot something that I needed she would have to go back out to get it, I was babysitting with no pram so I couldn’t run up later.

When I realised there was no Parmesan, a vital ingredient in Parmesan chicken, she was told she would have to go back up; her face dropped.

“Do you need it?, she asked.

“Yes I need Parmesan for Parmesan chicken.”

*penny drops followed by a big sigh* “Can you not make cheddar chicken, we have lots of cheddar?

“Nope, you’ll have to run quickly.”

So she did, and came back with those flakes which aside from being a waste of money in comparison to getting a small block, are harder to break down into smaller pieces. But better than nothing.

I would definitely recommend the Smitten Kitchen chicken recipe. You do need to have your frying pan sizzling hot, which was hard on an electric cooker, but it was lovely and well worth doing.