Mind, Body and School: children's mental health week.

For Children's Mental Health week my son's school is focusing on kindness. They usually focus on kindness, caring and safety so this is really an extension of that. I wanted to consider some of the other areas that aren't really covered in a 'health week' like this though.

Do we acknowledge that children have complex emotions ? I know we talk to them about being sad or happy and even frustrated. What about disappointed or overwhelmed ? I know that my children feel all of these at times. In fact with all of the adoption training we undertook I have a tendency to overthink pretty much everything. The other day Brown Bear wore multiple underpants to school and while my first thought was, 'man is that dude odd.' The second was, 'why did he do that ? Is it a sign that he is protecting himself from unwelcome attention from someone ? ' Ok, so that is an extreme, but it did cross my mind.

All this week I've been listening to interviews on the radio that have covered the topics of bullying, bereavement and similar topics. Next week me and Brown Bear will be having a recorded conversation as part of the listening project and I hope to talk to him about the emotional impact that having an adopted sibling had on him. It's not something we've spoken about really so it would be interesting to see what he says now that things appear to be less stressful than they were at first.

We don't usually talk about children's feelings in terms of stress, but it's something I've become acutely aware of. When Blue Bear came to live with us he showed signs of distress at being moved from his foster carers - as you would expect. In adoption there is a lot of talk about attachment and bonding. We talk about children experiencing loss - in his case the loss of a birth family then of a foster family. Far less is said about stress and depression. I honestly believe that children can feel depression just as much as adults do. I'm sure I did from an early age and it didn't have an explanation, much less any support for me to deal with it.

Children who face difficulties in childhood can grow adept at dealing with complex emotions. Young carers often cope with adult responsibilities and may miss out on carefree time as children. If a child has grow up with stress - either from seeing it or feeling it - they are more likely to have poor health later in life. It's not something we ask children about though is it ? When a child has an unexplained outburst the usual response is, "he's tired," "she's hungry," or "oh it's the terrible twos." We give little credance to actual emotional causes. I think this is changing, but slowly.

It's a long established idea that a healthy mind lives in a healthy body - that's why we still have PE in schools. It is just as important to maintain mental health and while there are schools that have introduced mindfulness I'm not sure it's going to take root. I hope it does. I practise stress reduction with my children and have encouraged them to do yoga since they were very young. Not for long, maybe a few minutes when we remember. They enjoy it, we make a game of it and they have no idea I'm getting them to de-stress or de-escalating their anger.

After all helping children identify how to take care of their mental well being at a young age can only be for the good can't it ?

Let's stop celebrating stupidity, please.

Anyone who didn't predict that my post about grammar and punctuation was leading up to a big rant about education must be new here. If you are new, welcome, make a brew, pull up a chair and thank you for coming :o)

That post was partly meant to be tongue in cheek, but was only really warming up for the real issue. It's something I'm uncharitably referring to as the celebration of stupidity that we seem to have come to accept as normal. There was a time when being daft was considered charming. In his stand up routine Eddie Izzard used to complain that he was 'thinly read.' Chris Rock mocked the simpletons who boasted that they "didn't know shit." Bill Hicks had an attitude that reviled the stupid and unquestioning and encouraged freedom of thought (and a liberal approach to drugs that I didn't strictly agree with).

We appear to have moved far away from that approach now and it is not only acceptable to boast about being stupid, but it is also revered by reality TV shows to know very little. As though it's charming and somehow cutesy rather than pathetic to have no general knowledge whatsoever. When questioned further these were the kids at school who used to say smart things like "I speak English, why do I need to learn it ?" I suspect these are the same genii who don't see the point of English literature or algebra because, "when am I gonna need that in real life ?" Well in your case probably never if I'm honest, but that may be more self-fulfilling prophecy than anything else.

I didn't go to a private or even particularly good school. Most of my teachers were borderline illiterate, one was a suspected paedophile and at one point there were some pretty racist ones. I learned in spite of them, rather than because of them. School didn't teach me to swim, to cross the road, cook food or how to drive but I can do all of these things. I didn't expect my school to do everything for me and frankly if you care about something that much you'll probably find a way to do it.

I'm not making a judgement about people who missed out on schooling or who have struggled with learning. I mean those who use more words than they need to try and sound clever, but whose vocabulary is still smaller than my 2 year old's. The kind who bullied the bookish kids at school for being too interested in learning. So my question now is why are we still apologising for knowing how to spell, or caring about grammar and punctuation ? Being picked on for being a 'spod' (please insert age appropriate equivalent insult here instead as you wish) must be out of fashion by now surely ?

Didn't we just spend 2012 cheering along sporting achievement ? It wasn't a celebration of 'the kids who didn't have a running track at school so never go to be good at sport so it's not their fault' did we ? Or did I miss the celebration of stupid Olympics ? Where you get a medal for the 'unspelling bee' or the Nobel prize for 'not knowing your times tables 'cos what's the point ?'

Before we rush to blame our adult underachievement on the education system let's remember that Caitlin Moran didn't go to school at all. She went to her local library and read lots of books. When she decided to become a writer she realised pretty early on that you have to read in order to write well. It meant enough to her to learn to do it well despite having no formal learning at all.

So here is the message:

It's ok to be smart.

It's ok to aspire to something better than winning a TV show

It's ok to know stuff (and comes in handy at pub quizzes).

Google Royal Mail and Daily Mail and you'll find my sister !!

WARNING: There is strong and potentially offensive language used in this post. 

In the latest episode of Call the midwife they tackled the thorny issue of racism against a pregnant new immigrant who another mum-to-be referred to as the 'coloured' woman. Of course by the end of the episode they were the best of friends and all was well as it is in these heartwarming Sunday evening dramas. That was set in the fifties in the East End of London so you'd be forgiven for thinking those kind of casual shocking attitudes don't still exist.

Unless you are in my family that is. In which case it's not that unusual or indeed uncommon to face some kind of ridiculous comment or treatment from a muttering under the breath to a full blown insult to my face - from a lad who I swear looked Korean - when I was on a bus.

Recent events surpass any of this though. You may have seen a story about an asian woman whose post was intercepted and a racist comment was written on the letter and resealed and delivered to her. Well that woman is my sister and this is what was scrawled onto her letter - without the pixelation over the 'offensive words.' Underneath the article are a lot of comments ranging from those correcting the inaccuracy of the use of the word 'Paki' and some suggesting that this culprit isn't that well-educated.

Let me say first up that I am tired of this now. The reason I didn't blank out the offensive words is because if we have to put up with this you can put up with seeing it too. They are words on a page. They are hurtful words, yes. They are inaccurate, yes. However, that is missing the point - it's not the inaccurate geography or poor grammar is the most hurtful thing. Oh the irony that it's the Daily Mail who ran this story when that is the very paper that encourages this 'send 'em all back' attitude, but shows moral outrage when someone responds to this incitement by doing something hideous.

When someone shouts out 'paki' in the street I'm not considering if I should respond with "well actually my parents were born in pre-partition India, but I was born in Perivale." The sick and knotted feeling in my gut is not just about the wrongness of what they have done, it's about the shame, the humiliation, the unfairness. It is also about the fear that they might not stop at words.

Dismissing racists as 'thick' or 'un-educated' is to underestimate their ability to use this to their advantage. Of course they'd be better educated if they had a chance. If there weren't so many foreigners they could have lived in a nicer council house or gone to a better school or had a better job. If all those immigrants didn't come over and take all the jobs and qualifications that is.

How long do you have to be a resident before it's no longer appropriate to tell you to 'go home' ? I was born in England - Perivale maternity unit since you ask - so does that make my home the Hoover building ? It is no longer the case that indians are 'coming over' in droves so where exactly are they thinking we should 'go back' to ?

It is so disappointing when people post facebook statuses that contain racism. In the last few days I've read a 'genuine' letter to the passport office that becomes increasingly ranty then ends with 'my doctor is a bleeding pakistani' - ok yes that's hilarious. He or she probably isn't, the were probably born and trained in England, but the joke isn't funny if it's not a bit racist is it ? Or the posts that go on about how the island is full already and there's no more room. The story of a white person who can't get cancer treatment because of all the foreigners who keep coming here and using the NHS. It goes on and on.

When I say I'm tired I mean I'm tired of arguing, explaining and making the point. It is tiresome and boring:

• I don't know why a man spat in my face through the car window while I was having a driving lesson - I don't want to know. 
• I don't know why Samantha Peacock came into school one day and said, "my mum says tell me when your dad's head gets better." (He is a turban-wearing Sikh). 
• I don't know why my father-in-law thought making a joke about Enoch Powell being right was funny, it isn't. 
• I don't know why a man I dated for a while thought it was perfectly ok to use the term 'coloured' to describe the drummer in a band - this was in 2004, not 1954 !!  

I don't ever want anyone to hurt the ones I love for any reason. I don't ever want to have to explain to my son why someone might use the word 'paki.' How it's not the word that hurts, it's the intention.

For now all I can say is: I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. 

With a big sigh and a heavy heart… a serious blog

I've lived for 42 years and in that time I've been made to realise that there are a lot of things about me that other people don't like. Some of them I can do something about - like talking too much, or having the wrong accent, or making a face that looks a bit too smug, or correcting poor spelling unasked. There are some things I can't do anything about, like the colour of my skin.

It amazes me that there are still people who think it's perfectly ok to make offensive remarks about race and treat it as normal or justifiable to do so. It upsets me, because my parents faced so much racism for so many years that I'm sure their only hope when it happened to them was that their children would be spared the indignity of the same.

My husband hadn't come across racism in his own life so when he married into an asian family it suddenly became a personal insult for someone to make derogatory remarks about asians as they were talking about his wife, or his mother-in-law or now his son. Imagine how much worse that is when it's a member of your own family making the remarks ?

When I was at university I shared a house with friends and we lived in an area on the outskirts of Coventry. On one occasion when I was walking home with one of my housemates and the local kids shouted out racist comments to me I ignored them and she went ballistic. It's not that I wasn't bothered. As I explained to her there is little point in telling them what they're saying is wrong when it's what they hear their parents say.

In the same vein I met up with a friend I used to go to school with when I was 8 just before she emigrated to Australia and we reminisced about some of our classmates. I have few fond memories of my school in Greenwich in the '70s when the National Front were still marching in the streets and me and my brother were the only asian children in the school until the Patels sent their daughters to the school.

My friendship with Nichola was one of the only things I recall with happiness. I was in a classroom where the teacher sat me with the only black child in the class - a strange form of selection as the other tables were based on academic ability not skin colour. One of my classmates gleefully shared that her mother had asked me to let her know when my Dad's head was better - as a Sikh he wears a turban.

Nic remarked that one of our classmates used to sing racist songs which I have no memory of at all. Maybe I've blanked it out like so much else that I don't want to recall. The interesting thing is that this lad had a promising career as a footballer, but his father was unwelcome at the Arsenal training ground due to his unreconstructed comments about people of other races. So that apple didn't fall too far from the tree then.

This has come up now because I read a comment on Facebook tonight that stunned me so much that initially I called it out for the racism is blatantly was. Then I decided that was probably too strong and decided to just say that it was offensive and inflammatory. When something like this happens I have to maintain my dignity and my ability to walk away.

I wish that I could believe I will never have to explain to my son what racism is.
I pray that in his life he doesn't hear the insults or the ignorance that make me so sad.
I hope that he is a kind and loving person regardless of what others say and do.

That's not too much to ask is it ?

Day two in the house and Neo hasn't left the sofa...

Ignoring a royal jubilee is easier than you'd think. I mean the swimming pool was practically deserted this morning which meant I had a lane all to myself and my son really enjoyed paddling around without lots of other children in the pool.

Now I'm no republican (I have an ironic royal wedding thimble and somewhere in my Mum's house we have a Charles and Diana mug), but I'm so not interested in bunting and union jack cupcakes it's just not funny.I do recall the silver jubilee in 1977 when I had a day off school and stood on the pavement outside my parents' shop as the Queen's car drove past and I was convinced she waved at me.

My parents knew a lovely Sri Lankan family who were staunch royalists and the pictures of royalty in their home were only outnumbered by photos of the Pope. This was all pre-Diana so there was a general sense of respect and deference to the royals rather than the fakery that 'they're just like us' that we are cajoled into now. I mean if Kate can wear the same dress as Tulisa (albeit Alexander McQueen) what more proof do we need that they're just normal people ?

I've been far more excited about the Apprentice finale tonight than the flotilla on the Thames. From the snippet of news that I just watched it looked pretty pointless, but my Mum enjoyed watching it and was very excited when she spotted a Sikh standing next to Her Madge. As a longstanding civil servant my Mum was invited to the Queen's garden party a few years ago and she was so proud and delighted. My Dad went with her and apparently mistook the Duke of Edinburgh for a shambling drunk as he ambled past (well you can see why he might can't you ?).

Their generation of immigrants from Commonwealth countries have an admiration of the royal family that seems to have ebbed away in subsequent generations. The tea towel count in homes of parents of friends who come from the Caribbean has always struck me as unnecessarily high. It's when they're framed that I think it's gone too far.

As I say I'm not committed enough to be an actual republican. My friend Nic abhors the royal family, but I treat them like I do the people who bullied me at school - I just ignore them. Of course if I use a stamp or money I come into contact with HRH, but otherwise she doesn't really impact on my life much.

It's nice having Hubbie home for 4 days though, so for that thanks HRH :o)

And now for something a bit serious

There were two news stories that I took particular interest in this week and I wanted to share some thoughts on them.

The first was a news item about the arrest of nine men from Rochdale and Oldham who had been involved in systematic grooming and sexual abuse of young girls. Comment and opinion has come from quarters as diverse as the BNP and the chair of the Equality and Human Rights Commission. Interestingly enough they seem to be saying about the same thing - that race is a factor as 8 of the men are Pakistani and one is from Afganistan. The assertion has been that they targeted white girls due to cultural attitudes towards sexuality. This completely ignores the fact that abuse is abuse regardless of the ethnicity of the victim or perpetrator. It also turns a blind eye to the abuse that takes place within the Asian community (which is the catch-all term being used to describe these men) and goes unspoken about. Additionally there is the practice of underage marriage which pretty much sanctions child abuse and is more common than we are led to believe. To make this about race is unnecessary as it takes away from the reality that these are horrific and cruel acts committed by nasty people. In communities where it is the custom to call all adults uncle and aunty and to show respect to them a child can be placed in a vulnerable situation and not feel able to report it to anyone. Targeting complete strangers and luring them into a dangerous situation is downright criminal and thankfully these men have been caught and charged. Don't even get me started on how unhelpful Trevor Phillips' comments are - just read them and decide for yourself: http: BBC News website

The other news item playing out towards the end of this week was the cover of Time magazine to illustrate an article about attachment parenting. In case you haven't seen it this is the photo:

The various debates on radio and online have included spokespeople from Mumsnet and other parenting organisations. All of them commenting on the pose of the photograph and not the article itself. What was a piece about attachment parenting has become outrage at a woman defiantly appearing to breastfeed a child who can stand and look at the camera. Not for them the traditional babe in arms pose we are used to seeing (or not as the case may be). The various threads of discussion I've followed have been about whether or not prolonged breastfeeding is about the child or the mother. I breastfed my son and wanted to do so for as long as it suited him. Eventually at 14 months I had to concede that he wasn't really feeding any more and it was about me wanting to hold him close and keep the bond we had developed. When he was first born and we were in hospital for a few days I fed him for hours at a time and holding him close was just the most wonderful sensation. Being able to let go of that closeness is difficult, but I have noticed that as he grows he chooses how to be close to me and this autonomy and independence is important. It has always been important that my son feels close to both me and Hubbie and they also have a very affectionate relationship. Being able to breastfeed is a wonderful way to build a bond with your child and one I'd recommend to anyone. However, it isn't always possible for a mother to breastfeed and it isn't an option for the father so attachment comes in many other forms. The magic 2 year goal for breastfeeding is taken from the World Health Organisation guidance to women in the whole world. It is the safest, most hygienic and cheapest option for mothers of babies born in countries where water is not clean or accessible and where healthcare is not freely available. However, in a culture where we have the choice it is the tyranny of the 'Mummy mafia' that makes breastfeeding for years the gold standard of caring. If I sought validation from the Supermums I'd have serious concerns about my own sanity.

Next time: back to usual light-hearted self deprecating schtick I promise :o)

Never, never, never… Oh well ok, as it's you

John Cusack often tells his Twitter followers that if poor grammar and spelling bothers them they should unfollow him as the content is more important than how it's delivered (my words not his). It's not a philosophy I adhere to usually, but I make an exception for him as I think his tweets have the capacity to entertain and inform, but to be honest I break my own zero tolerance rule because I like him. It's the same rule that applies to the films he has been in - yes even Hot Tub Time Machine which when I saw an online trailer for I genuinely thought was an online spoof as it looked so bad. I can't say the same for Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil which despite being directed by Clint Eastwood and starring JC (a dream combination in my book) didn't hold my attention and bored me to actual sleep. Otherwise I heart John for wearing a Clash t-shirt in any movie where he has wardrobe approval as it shows he has great taste in listening to English bands - if he wore a Smiths t-shirt I might properly explode.

The same exception applies to my friend Jan who sends me text messages in teenage text speak which grates on me if done by anyone other than her. I suspect it's because I find it endearing that someone who has a senior citizen's bus pass writes "gr8 to c u on Sat, thx 4 cream t." I mean come on that's far too cute to be annoyed about.

On a different tack my husband follows any and all sports (except Rugby, but in extremis he has been known to watch that too) despite the fact that years ago I swore blind that I would never marry a man who was obsessed with sport. Clearly he won me over with his witty repartee, his massive intellect and that meal he makes with prawns and pineapple. Actually I refer you to the previous blog post that lists the lovely things he does which make me heart Hubbie (yes, yes I know I hate when people do that too, I promise not to do it any more). 

An area in which we are perfectly matched is our shared interest in politics which is why my friendship with my closest friend is the most puzzling example of my exception to the rule theory. Our politics are polar opposites, yet we get along and don't actually argue. We disagree, but often find common ground that is not party political. In fact it's thanks to SJ that I shadowed a Green London Assembly member (the lovely Jenny Jones) when I took part in a programme to encourage BME women to become involved in politics. I discussed the scheme with SJ and told her I wasn't sure which party to ask to be matched with and she said that she considered me to be most closely aligned with the Greens. She showed great insight that revealed in all the years we've known each other she has identified something that I haven't acknowledged myself. Now that's a good friend ! 

The most recent revelation has been just today. I have for years been very sniffy about people who home school their kids - and as a yoga teacher and part-time Yummy Mummy I know a few - as I've always seen it as self-indulgent and hippie to take Jacinta out of school because she's far too bright for the rubbish teachers at her school to cope with. This opinion has altered since I've realised that if my son was only offered a place at a very poor school I'd have to seriously consider home schooling him as I daren't risk some yobbish Croydon yoofs hurting a hair on my darling boy's head. Today, however, I found out that my NCT teacher Wendy is taking her daughter out of a local school to home school her. I can't blame her, from what she's told me it's the best decision to improve her daughter's chances of actually getting an education. My own fear has always been that even though I'm a qualified teacher I'd struggle to do a good enough job teaching my own child(ren) the curriculum and I'd feel guilty for letting them down.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have a strict zero tolerance policy on most things with the following exceptions:

1. Poor spelling and grammar - unless you're John Cusack (or Alex O'Loughlin if he's on twitter)

2. Text speak - unless you're old enough to know better and do it to be cool

3. Sports obsessives - unless I married you in which case you put up with far more than I do (and bless you for that)

4. Tories - unless you're SJ, that is the only exception

5. Home Schooling - unless you're a normal person in every other way like my friends Wend and Siobhan. If you're a homeopathic, 'spiritual,' yurt dweller just move along now and we'll say no more about it.

Thanks for listening :o) 

My fair lady ( Oh wouldn't it be luvverly ?)

In the last two days I've been following two news stories that show how important we feel it is to be fair. In the case of an LA fitness gym insisting on a couple paying their 2 year membership despite them being close to destitute there was outrage on Twitter. In the end for fear of further opprobrium the gym chain climbed down and waived the contractual arrangement. Cue hand wringing and wailing and gnashing of teeth over how hideous the contracts are when we all know that it's people paying up front and not using the gym that renders profit and enables people like me to have so many free trial sessions.

The other story being played out today on local news radio is that babies will need paid for tickets to attend Olympic events. The last I heard they were reconsidering this as various Mummy websites and even the (mostly useless) equality and human rights commission suggested there might be a case for claiming sex discrimination if a mother taking a child to the games was required to pay for that child. I bought tickets to some events and at the time had no idea I was also expected to buy tickets for my son. There is no question of him not coming with us. How can I not take him to a once in a lifetime event taking place in his own home town ?  Mumsnet and Netmums - for all the pointless meandering tub thumping about mini dramas that affect their precious little Avi-Mays and Ocean-Blues - do stand up for the things that they believe to be fair.

My own issue with fairness is one that causes people to look away muttering in almost complete disgust. I am the person who does the unthinkable. I check the bill at the end of the meal and work out what everyone owes in order to be fair to all - it's not popular and it's completely unEnglish. I have a strong opinion about why it is important to do this and there are two meals in particular that have caused me to become the human calculator and social pariah.

Firstly when I was a student I didn't have a lot of money, but I did work during holidays and even during term time to finance my way through my degree studies. I still met up with friends who I had worked with in my Saturday job at a library and at one particular Christmas meal I ordered one course - the cheapest dish - and one soft drink as I knew I didn't have the means to splash out. The senior librarians ordered massive sharing starters, expensive main courses and puddings, wine and coffees. When the bill came they split it 5 ways and I didn't want to make a fuss so I ended up subsidising their meals by paying well over the £10 that my meal had actually cost.

The second time was when a friend chose a reasonably priced venue for his 30th birthday which was offering a three course menu for £16. Me and hubbie went along and the other diners had already been drinking before we arrived. They had ordered champagne for the birthday boy (very generous we thought) and they also thought it would be a wheeze to order him some shots - after all you only turn 30 once don't you ? When the bill came it was carved up and we were told we owed £45. I questioned how this was so when I hadn't had any alcohol and hubbie had one beer and our food was only £16. A recalculation was done and we were still ordered to part with £30 each. That means my cup of tea and hubbie's beer cost £14 each.

I vowed from then on to not be taken advantage of again when other 'friends' decide to be generous with my money.

This was tested when I was on a skiing holiday with some friends in Whistler and we went out for dinner with a couple we didn't know very well, but who seemed nice enough. He wanted to order a particular bottle of red wine and we said that was fine, but we didn't want any. When the bottle came he insisted we try it which we politely did. So when he divided the bill up for us all to pay I said that wasn't fair as one of us had only eaten soup and the others hadn't ordered the wine. We paid for what we had eaten and included a tip. The correct money in the dish we all got ready to leave and he again asked us for money for a tip which we explained to him we'd already included. He had expected us to subsidise his choice of wine and we were pretty clear that wasn't going to happen.

I don't think twice about challenging bill payments now as I think I'm old enough not to care if someone is offended by me saying I'll only pay what I owe. We're all on a budget these days so if you want to splash out pay for yourself - it's only fair.

Fairness is a simple concept and one that in principle we all agree with. It's just that some people think it's only fair to take advantage of others. It's a small stand to say no I won't pay for your dinner, or your extravagance in wine or cocktails, but it's a start.

Oh and I'm taking my son to the Olympic games whatever Seb Coe says - and so there !

Twenty Twelve Vision

As everyone else is saying how rubbish 2011 has been I thought I'd offer my own review of a year that has been a bit of a curate's egg. I've watched Charlie Brooker's Newswipe and it pretty much encapsulated the news events for me, so I refer you to that for the newsy / political perspective done far better than I would have managed it.

The year began with a very close friend coming back from the dead. I mean properly actually dying then having the paddles to bring her back (like in the movies). I put it down to a desperate need for attention myself - it had been a few years since she got married and our friends live in other parts of the world so it took something radical  in order to get them to call. Mission accomplished. She is under strict orders not to repeat this so we're all waiting with bated breath to see what fresh capers she has planned…

I had my first Mother's Day as a mother this year. Of course my son was oblivous to the significance of this. In later years he may badly wrap a gift to give me, but for now I'm content that hubbie helps and we kid ourselves he has any idea what is going on. (I have deliberately left this dubious so you can decide who I mean).

In May we sold our house - the first home me and hubbie have owned together. The home we brought our son back from the hospital to. The home we brought Neo from Battersea Cats & Dogs Home to. Of course it took months to actually move (see Oct), but someone came to see it in May and said she'd buy it. Result !

To everyone else August in London was about lunatics in balaclavas nicking TVs from the walls of betting shops. For my family it was all about the "Monsoon Wedding" of my youngest sister complete with a flower strewn Ambassador and bangra rhythms. It was also a chance for Khushbir to dress up in his Bollywood finery and impress everyone by applauding at the speeches.

Having enjoyed a year of playgroups, back-to-back Come Dine With Me and cups of tea with other Mums the time came to return to work and in September I went back to a new location, but the same colleagues. I'm not sure if it just because I had been away and I missed my boy, but going back to work was truly hideous. The only silver lining in all this was that my boy had his first birthday at the end of September and we celebrated with cake and hats and singing so now he knows that the correct response to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday is to put out his hand for a piece of cake. That's my boy !

After months of frantic phone calls between vendors, buyers, the bank, the estate agents and solicitors we finally moved house in October. We paid to have a company move all our belongings, which I admit does make life much simpler, but isn't entirely foolproof. We had boxes marked as containing curtains with kitchen items and picture frames in. I wasn't sure if this was simply a mistake or an elaborate attempt to make us laugh when unpacking. The final straw for me was having to wear the same two pairs of shoes for weeks until I looked in the box marked "baby's room" which had all my shoes in it the entire time !

In November after weeks of going into work and being pretty much ignored and sidelined I decided to leave. It wasn't the simplest decision, but one that having been made proved to be the best course of action. My work colleagues continued to ignore me and on my last day only two people actually wished me well. If I could be bothered I'd take up a case of constructive dismissal, but frankly being able to spend every day with my boy is the best outcome I could have asked for - regardless of how I came to it.

So we come to the last month of the year when I had already finished going into work and was able to concentrate on preparing for Christmas and more importantly the wedding of our own TOWIE stars. I love, love, love weddings and this one was in a fairytale setting (albeit in Essex) with the funniest best man's speech we've heard in a while.

My year began with a friend's health scare and it ends the same way. A good friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer and will be undergoing treatment in early January. She is my age and has a young son. Whatever else happens in 2012 we've already agreed to go shopping for wigs together and discussed how to wear scarves at a jaunty angle to cover hair loss.

I hope 2012 brings you happiness, good health an abundance of love and just enough wealth to not spoil you.

Bully for you

A you tube video of Asyraf Haziq - the Malaysian student who was mugged following an attack that left him with a broken jaw - became news last week. I don't need to see people being cruel to know that it happens and to be shocked by it. What followed was a flood of sympathy and support for him as the innocent in the chaos of rioting who became caught up in events that he had no involvement in. It made me angry and it left me feeling sick about the mentality of those who not only beat him up initially, but those who then robbed him. It wasn't just criminal, it was old fashioned bullying. 

Then yesterday there was a news report claiming that a third of teachers have been bullied online by parents using facebook. Cyberbullying - as it's being called - is just the most recent development in an age old form of abuse that I've recently had a smidgen of experience of. Whether at school or at work or even at home being bullied has at various times just been a part of my everyday life. After a while it's just how life is and goes some way to explaining why I get so angry about what I see as injustice and unfairness.

It fascinates me what drives some to bully and others to be the ones who are bullied. I've often heard people say that bullies are victims themselves. I'm afraid I can't concur. As someone who has been on the receiving end of bullying at many different stages in life I don't think I've visited it on others as a result. It does make me wonder if some of us are predisposed to being bullied either by virtue of what we look like or how we respond to bullies. I can't recall a time when I've actually confronted a bully, so maybe that and my desperation to be liked makes it easy for them ? 

Of course this doesn't explain why pick on someone who is already bleeding or a person who is doing their job and you just don't like them or what they say. I do wonder what became of the girls who bullied me at school. Did walking behind me in the playground and pushing me or stealing my school bag lead to a fulfilling adult life or are they as pointless now as they were back then ? It's probably all coming back to me because I'm traumatised at the thought of sending my son to a nursery. I know that this is the beginning of leaving him to find his way with other children and he has to learn to be independent and to stand up for himself. I just wish that I didn't keep finding evidence the people can be really nasty and they don't need a reason.