So what are you waiting for – head over to the forum and try it out.

When my second child came along there was ‘the how to get down the street in a safe and orderly manner’ task to conquer. Baby was easy to contend with. Wrapped up in pram he was safe as my pram driving skills would allow. But now my daughter was foot loose and fancy free. No pushchair for her anymore. I tried the reins approach which lasted all of one trip to town. She got tangled up, I got stressed and the reins were sent to the back of the cupboard. I soon learnt I couldn’t push a pram with one hand and hold her hand and keep us all safe.

The solution was to have a spying session on other mums, how did other mums do it? It materialised that some could indeed push a pram with one hand whilst others took the baby in sling, other child in pushchair approach. I tried this too. Now if you have experienced this you may understand where I come from when I say it makes you walk very unnaturally and not at all straight. After 9 months of a growing bump with growing backache, I was yearning to stand up straight. Having the baby in the sling was like being pregnant again, plus being summer baby got hot, I got hot, baby got hotter….you can see where I am going with this. Sling soon joined the reins at the back of the cupboard.

My only answer was to train my daughter to hold the side of the pram. Easier said than done, so I thought. I had images of something catching her eye and off she would go even if I had explained firmly and nicely that she needed to keep hold of the pram. Indeed this did happen, at the side of the road too. Did I handle the incident with decorum? No. Did I act calmly and explain in best sugar coated words the risk of being flattened by a passing car? Well no. I went into hysterics of the screaming ‘you could have been killed’ kind. There were uncontrollable tears from me and a wobbly bottom lip from her. Solved the problem as she never let go of the pram every again.

This was my first taste of the differences in parenting styles. Tell them as it is verses sugar coated. Tell them as it is seems a bit harsh but is it the right thing? Or should it be more sugar coated. Life isn’t sugar coated though, awful things happen.

As my children are now a lot older sugar coated really doesn’t work, it doesn’t get over the importance of some things. They are about to enter the era of firsts. First offer of alcohol, first offer of a cigarette, first offer of a kiss…… I’ll stop there before I get myself wound up. With the first increasing the importance and danger increase too.

So how do you think children should be warned of dangers? What’s your parenting style? Sugar coated or tells them as it is?

I was coping with the body deciding to give in to middle age spread. I guess it happens to us all but despite being the healthiest I have ever been, the belt on my jeans has had to go to the next notch up. They say that the youth is wasted on the young and that is very much true. Gone are the days of not caring what you ate or when you ate it. Now I watch what I eat, not excessively to the point I obsess over it, more along the lines of not too much red meat, never touch anything that’s fried and eat more salads and fresh veg then I probably ever did the whole of my life. I walk more, ok I am not at the point of going to the gym or anything else as reckless as actually hard lycra clad exercise, but I am gardening everyday and the school run has been known to be a school walk. This still gets brownie points with the exercise gods as the 1 mile route is one big hill. But where as I would drop a belt notch just watching someone exercise, now I am starting to have to consider further actual physical exercise of some sort, as if I didn’t have anything better to do. I will not be doing lycra though.

I was also coping with the odd brain dead moment too. I seem to have started losing all ability of being able to speak English, despite nearly 40 years of English babble happily falling out of my mouth on command. Take today; instead of saying what was in my head “I don’t have any change on me” it came out as “I only have pound notes”. For heaven’s sake they went out of circulation 26 years ago and yes it really was that long ago, I googled it. My children’s ages and current school year has always been a sticky remembering subject. I have to ask them every time I fill yet another school form in. So I assume the now forgetting their actual name is only to be expected. It also puts me into utter confusion now my daughter has 4 friends with names starting with A. Even I know I am starring gormlessly at the A named friend, desperately trying to remember which one they are.

So now that my brain and middle age spread are in cahoots and happening in unison, I declare it a conspiracy and I know I am dwelling far too much on my age at the moment. But it does hit home when your youngest is moving up to secondary school in September then add in the lovely statement that my daughter had great delight in announcing ‘this is your last few months being in your 30’s’.

Yesterday morning I lugged the heavy shopping back from town. Not a usual occurrence for me but the weather couldn’t make up its mind what it’s going to do. The lovely sunny bbq I planned for the evening was cancelled when I woke up to rain. So off to the supermarket I went to get rain suitable food. No sooner as I have paid for it, lugged it home and packed it away and the sun comes out. Bbq back on, no food though for a bbq. Off to town, as bored with the supermarket, to get more supplies. Now the route back from town is a horrible climb up a long hill, add in heavy shopping bags you can imagine I was not best pleased when the rain started again. At that point I was getting quiet irate and this post was going to be more of a rant then it is but I have had the wind knocked out of my sails by my daughter.

I returned home to find the hoover upstairs, switched on and my daughter actually using it. Furthermore she had hovered downstairs first. I should be pleased, I should be proud of the kind considerate daughter I have raised. I am but I am more worried what it’s going to cost me as that much housework means she must want something

So I accept this is all happening but what I am not prepared for or expected was the rollercoaster of ages it seems to be taking me, the so called adult, through with it. I mean I am supposed to be the one who can string two words together and walk in high heels and occasionally at the same time. So why am I swinging from old age to teenager at a moment’s notice? I have pangs of jealously at their younger fitter bodies. This was amplified when in a recent post clothes washing sort, I mixed up my daughter’s jeans with mine. She thought she had lost weight and skipped around the room and I was a crumpled heap on the floor trying to get into jeans that were no way going to budge above my thighs wondering how on earth I had put on so much weight over night.

My growing children don’t actually help matters either. They roll their eyes and mutter to me to grow up and then moments later complain that I am too old and just not with it.

I guess all there is to do, is to help and guide them through their ever changing hormones, hoping my hormones are adult enough to sort themselves out.

I also guess that the articles are written in such a way that they are intending to wind the readers up as it gets response and comments on their articles. But the problem it is creating is if all they can write about is how bad single mums are and how all they do is scrounge off the government by not working and receiving benefits, it just continues to paint all single mums with the same brush. We are not all the same.

So for the record and any one searching for info about single mums to add to their articles about how awful single mums are…..

We don’t all wear designer jogging bottoms, hair extensions and false nails – though we may be known for doing the school run in pyjama bottoms but this purely down to time or rather a lack of it.

We don’t all think we are better off not working and better off raking in the benefits – yes there is a benefits system, yes a lot of us will claim these benefits but it’s not thousands as reported all the time. Majority of us work just like anyone else. There also many 2.4 families with both parents working that are also entitled to some benefits, it’s not just single mums who claim benefits.

Some single mums have lost their partners/husbands through tragic circumstances or through no fault of their own.

We are not just single mums. We are many other things too.

It could be a result to my children hitting the teens, growing up and having social lives that they sort themselves. I no longer have to accompany them to children parties as these have made way to sleep over’s or trips with friends to the cinema, all without me. I get time to myself – which is a strange experience and taking a lot to get use to. I get to do the supermarket shop in peace though have very worryingly come home with not one but two gardening magazines today. Trips town are a solitary experience. They will if they have to, or want money, walk into town with me but as soon as we reach people I find myself talking to myself as my children vanish. I no longer have to watch endless episodes of the latest children programmes and then hum the silly tune all day as it gets stuck in my brain.  Where I use to get excited about an evening out, I now get close to hyperventilating at the thought of using a new rotary washing line.

They talk about empty nest syndrome that women commonly feel after their children have grown up and left the home so maybe I am experiencing pre-empty nest syndrome. I have had over 13 years of children, feeding them, encouraging them and helping them grow so I could be filling my life with seeds that need looking after to grow to compensate my children growing up. Life is slowly changing again as i shift into new situations and experiences and its slightly scary.

Take this evening as a typical example with nothing major on the agenda, just tea and homework to work through. My daughter does her homework before I have even asked if she has any. A dream for most parents, but I don’t get away with it that easily. My son, on the other hand, is a nightmare. He forgets he has homework until 2 minutes before bed and that’s if he has remembered to bring it home. The mere phrase of ‘I have homework’ coming from him sends me into nervous twitches. My stomach tightens into knots as I check to see how well we did on the last homework. Yes I know it’s his homework but when a child is struggling we, as parents, have to step in at some point and explain things unless were quiet happy to have a wailing child complaining they can’t even add 2 and 2  in sobs of tears. Apparently this is common and boys nearly always struggle with homework whilst girls breeze through it. It doesn’t ease the nightly misery though. At the start of the homework I am fairly confident in adding 5 and 5 and how to spell this and that. ( quite literally ) by the end of the homework even I struggle to count unless I am using my fingers and spelling any word more than three letters is just brain suicide.

On the flip side evening meals, although another bone of contention, this time it’s my daughters turn to turn me into a nervous wreck. My son will eat anything and everything you place in front of him. No poking it with his fork and asking what it is with his nose turned up. No asking what animal is it or if it’s organic. My daughter requests a small amount before the serving spoon has touched it, as she pears at it like I have just served up the latest recipe incorporating arsenic. A knife is far too cool to use and just on the table for decoration, silly me. She then very kindly points out all the bits she doesn’t like, which I have decided is relative to the day of the week. Mushrooms seem to be ok on a Monday but by Friday they are just gross. If it’s not enough that it’s just me doing the shopping , dragging it back from the shop, putting it all away and not forgetting thinking up a new meal every night and cooking it, woe is me if I repeat a meal more than once in the same century. She wails she is so bored of it despite only having eaten the offending meal twice in her life.

Of course were not finished yet as we’ve not touched on the matter of the dishwasher. I grew up having to wash up the whole families dishes so I positively delight in just putting it all into a magic machine that washes it all for me. My children though take a dishwasher, of the mechanical variety, for granted. For them it seems very difficult to comprehend the process of putting their plate into the dishwasher without being asked every night.

These things are sent to try us I know and my only way of getting through these times is thinking up ways for revenge. I have one potential revenge situation on place which, if I am crafty enough, will see me through a few more months. My daughter is now is the ‘bra wearing’ stage and of course I have to buy them, which means she has to be in the shop with me. So if you see a fairly insane looking woman complete with red faced young teenager in tow, don’t laugh its revenge, I did mention the newly bought bra would be on my head didn’t I?

 When I was young it was installed into me on a daily bases that manners don’t cost anything but are priceless when used. It’s not just the please and thank yous in the right places but the courteous things too. Now it might be me just getting old and turning into my mother, but it is really starting to rial me. When children are very young we diligently taught them to say please and thank you and then looked on all proud when they manage to mutter it at the appropriate times to other people. But recent trips into town first made me angry and then stop and question if I have actually taught my children enough manners.

I feel the need to have my view and I will also be quizzing my teenager as to how she acts in these situations.

Younger drivers don’t realise when it isn’t their right of way and someone else is being kind and letting them through then it is generally a good thing to express some kind of thanks. I’m not expecting them to jump out the car and produce a bunch of flowers to say thank you but a small acknowledgment; even a small nod would be nice. Contrary to your belief you don’t own the whole road and when it is my right of way I am actually doing a nice thing for you.

Pavements have been designed to accommodate more than one person. Some boffins somewhere probably analysed this to death to come up with precise measurement they need to be to take two passing adults comfortably. If it is safe I have been known to step into the road so that passing teenagers don’t lose a vital piece of conversation but please do I have to do it every time or get glared at when I decide today isn’t the day I want to chance it with the passing lorry.

Shop assistants are there to assist, it may be earth shattering news and I don’t mean to tar every shop assistant with the same brush. I don’t expect personal shopper service but please do you have to look so bored to death even if you are.  When I was young and a shop assistant I had the manager from hell, or so I thought. But she really was just teaching me something that isn’t taught today. She taught me not to interrupt, not to lean or slouch and to give the customer your attention not highlights from the previous night out. I have found it to be getting better but it I think this is because I am getting picky and won’t go into shops where the assistants are younger than me. Sadly this one is on a time limit for me; I am fast running out of shops.

 Is it just me ? Am I just being old?

Yesterday evening we realised we had forgotten to buy the advent calendars. Nothing new there for me. So off we went to the local supermarket to get advent calendars. Of course being the last to get them it was slim pickings. My son was happy to find a ‘Stars Wars’ one left but my daughter was faced with no advert calendar or resort to a ‘Night Garden’ advent calendar. Now any other young teenager would probably throw a hissy fit as the indignation of it. Mine though collapsed into giggles. Laughter is contagious and before long we all were laughing, at what I will probably never know, but we stood there laughing.

With advent calendars in hand we headed to the Christmas decorations as this year I appear to have a fixation with purple baubles. I want my tree this year to ooze sophistication and designer twee. So purple baubles it just has to be. We are hit by more giggles at the realisation that purple just isn’t to be had. Not giving up we check out the DIY shops. Now this sounds so silly I cant even believe I am putting the words down, the three of us still full of giggles played with every rocking Rudolph and chuckling Santa we could find. We dressed up in the tinsel and hung baubles off our ears. We just simply had fun. No expense spent no reason why but just enjoyed all being together laughing like loons amongst the tinsel and decorations. My daughter innocently summed it up with the words ‘the three musketeers in search of purple baubles’.

It’s those sort of moments that I couldn’t of planed or orchestrate that make me realise I love my life with my two giggling musketeers.

If your reading this form outside the UK let quickly explain our system here. Basically all your working life just under a third of your wages is taken from your wage packet before it is even paid to you. It’s paid direct to the government for them to do with as they want. It’s apparently to pay for all the services we have. Police, fire brigade, pension to name a few, and to provide a National Health Service. Now this infamous NHS is there free when we need a hospital, a doctor and a dentist. But it’s not quite as simple as that. For example, if you go to the doctor and need a prescription most people still have to pay an additional fee for the actual medication.  

This is just a brief roundup of the system as if I went into it in more detail I would never finish this post. But the thing that has wound me up the most is the availability of a dentist. In short, there aren’t any, unless you want to go private. Now this would better if you could write to some nice government person and explain you pay for your stuff privately and they give you a refund for the parts of the system you don’t use. Oh no, you can’t do that. So for the first time ever I have written to two MP’s. They have welcoming websites that tell you that they are there for you to help you. They are supposedly accessible and care about you. Well below is the email I wrote and so far I have not heard anything back. Surprised? No. Fed up? Yes.

“Dear Mr MP – I am at the end of my tether and at a loss of how to explain this to my children. I have worked all my adult life, paying my contributions as I should and it is only now that I have found myself redundant. Not to be daunted by the situation I have taken the challenge to retrain and the New Year will hopefully bring a change of circumstances. I can cope with being a single mum and having to feed my 13 and 10 year old with just £20 a week. It’s not a hardship it’s merely a challenge to be overcome. What I do struggle with is trying to explain to my children why they have never been to the dentist or why one of their classmates who are from another country is able to have regular dentist treatment. Not that I hasn’t tried getting into a regular dentist in the last 9 years. I was brought up with the 6 monthly fear of the dentist trip. My two though have only seen a dentist in an emergency and then had to have teeth out. I too am unable to fix a broken front tooth as it’s not an emergency and I am not the sort to abuse the system, even if it’s failing. After 6 years of living with it I have resigned to the fact I will never probably get it fixed. It worried me at first but my self confidence in being able to smile went many years ago.

So please how do I explain to my children that despite them brushing their teeth every day they will probably grow up to have irreparable damage from not having regular checkups. I hope that things change and one day I will be able to go private as I think this will be our only option but in the meantime we have to just keep waiting on a waiting list that is never ending in the hope to see a dentist regularly.

If you have children you may be able to understand how hard it is to look at them knowing that something is effecting them now and will probably affect them into their adult life and there is nothing I can do about it, I am their mother but helpless. It’s not their fault I can’t afford private treatment, it’s not their fault there are no dentists but they are the ones that will pay for it in the long run.”

Since writing this post , I have since had a reply email from one of the MP’s. All it asked was if I had a contact phone number. No mention of anything else and so far no phone call.

Now this post may be a bit off subject but I’m a single mum and this has made me so angry I want to scream.

The way we do it is that we let the children decide where they want to be. Now the choices are obviously here with me or at their fathers. I not being close to my family have never spent an adult Christmas with my parents ( and nor do I want to start thank you very much), he on the other hand has brothers and sisters who all have children and they all get together ‘Walton’s’ style for a massive Christmas day. Now in a kids mind the choice between two very different Christmases is easy worked out by where you’re more likely to have fun and get more presents. Yep you guessed it, with their father. So every Christmas morning off they go to have fun, laughter and presents to return 48 hours later.

Being the good unselfish mother I am, I manage to do a good act of pretending that I love spending Christmas day on my own. We do make more of a deal out of Christmas Eve and open half our presents in the evening and then a few Christmas morning before they go. The first few years were easy as loved the novelty of easting cheese on toast in my pyjamas and watching all the Christmas films. I would have glass of champagne and a bath with as many bubbles as I could fit in. The glass of champagne would turn into a bottle and then be in bed asleep by tea time. It was easy.

But then the novelty slowly died and the champagne too when I decided to go healthy and not drink alcohol. A couple of the years have been really tough and now it gets difficult as my daughter looks at me knowing that I will be spending Christmas on my own. She is torn to go with the family or stay with me, so for her sake, the actress in me is now on Oscar level. I’m going for all out this year and have my acceptance speech for my Oscar award all planned.

In my 8 years of single mum Christmases I can recommend the following:

• Although nice to have a drink, don’t drink too much if there is any hint it will make you sad. Slurring Merry Christmas sarcastically at the TV with bottle in hand really isn’t that sophisticated.
• Instead of the traditional Christmas dinner for one (Iceland and Tesco do them if you have your heart set on it) do something different. My favourite was salmon bagels followed by strawberries and cream. You will also be amazed how many people actually envy you.
• If you are eying up the sofa and remote control for the day, treat yourself to new pj’s .
• Take yourself out for a walk.  I would walk past houses and bet how many arguments I would spot. (Grass is not always greener and the picture card image of Christmas we presume everyone else is having sadly isn’t so).
• Lastly if you can manage it, buy yourself a pressie to put under the tree. I learnt this one several years in after realising I would not get a present any other way.

So I am asking you, readers, how do you manage it? Are you organised and have been putting money aside each month throughout the year? (Oh how I envy those with such discipline and organisational skills) or is it a mad panic and belt tightening in the last month of two?

 Now i know Christmas is not sprung upon us as the shops have been gearing up to it for the past few weeks and funnily enough Christmas does happen every year. But it every year at about this time, i panic. I want my children to have a great Christmas and they know they won’t get everything on their lists but how on earth do you make one month’s money stretch across everything that won’t go away (electric, rent and simple things like eating) and manage to buy my own corner of the local toy shop at the same time? Just because I struggle all the time financially, doesn’t mean they have to feel it too at this time of year.

So readers, spill the beans on your Christmas buying. I might finally learn how to do it for next year.

But what happens when you realise that your children aren’t as young as you think they are and they have wised up to the Santa thing. My oldest has known I’m Santa for awhile when she twigged that Santa’s handwriting on the gift tags was just like mums, not to mention that we must have bought wrapping paper at the same place.  She kept the secret for her younger brother’s sake and if anything it built a secret bond between us as we knew the truth but were united to keep the magic going for him.

Except this week I feel as though the magic has all gone as now even he admitted to knowing that Santa was actually me. I feel somewhat deflated by his announcement.  There has been no letters to Santa this year and even worse I can’t bribe them to be good. I feel as if I have learnt Santa isn’t real all over again and Christmas now has no magic at all.

Of course there is one other major downside to it all is that they were always rather reserved in their wish lists to Santa as he was a busy man who had to buy a lot of presents. Now it’s a different matter. I of course don’t have to buy presents for the whole world nor apparently am I that busy. Instead of the sweet, best handwritten letters with pictures of dolls and cars that Santa was treated to, I get a list. A long list at that, complete with what shop to find each item, the prices and in preference order. Funnily enough though, the most expensive items at the top.  

So my magic of Christmas has truly been stolen by my wised up and growing up fast children. Another thing they don’t warn you of when you first become a parent.

Believe in yourself and magic will happen – I think this can sum up the highs and lows of being a single mum. When you first start out its daunting to think you will be doing it all yourself. Then as time goes along you sudden realises it’s been weeks or months or in my case years and your still surviving. Sometimes though, doubt can creep into your mind. Are you doing the right thing, are you too strict or not strict enough. It’s hard to gauge when you don’t have another person to bounce your ideas etc off. But if you believe in yourself, look around you, your kids are happy, you might not be able to give them latest gadgets and gizmos or lavish money on them. But they are learning to be part of a team , your team. They are learning that not all families are the same. They are learning things that can’t be bought.

So I think the key is to believe in yourself and magic happen.

My children listened open mouthed as I explained about the different sweets and cartoon characters I had grown up with, not to mention vinyl instead of CD’s etc. But it totally knocked them when I explained there were no mobile phones and even some people didn’t have normal house hold phones.

‘How did you arrange to meet up in the holidays?’ my daughter asked who is of the age she is permanently texting to arrange this and that. Imagine her shock when I explained it was either pre-arranged or you called by their house. The news that I would write to my friends was just completely jaw dropping. Their reactions intrigued me so I pursued the conversation telling them how modern life actually is now. The invention of dishwashers and tumble dryers all being in my living memory. How their Nan brought me up with no washing machine or microwave and the days when we had no TV.

Now I know life progresses and things improve but have we actually improved our lives? My mother at my age was twice as fit as I am with all the annual housework. I, in comparison, use all the costly labour saving devices then pay to go to the gym. Or how I buy all the conveyance foods and supermarket junk complete with the over the top packaging etc only to try afterwards to coax some good food like fruit into them. Wouldn’t it make more sense to go back to basics and cook it all myself knowing that it has all the good things in it and cutting out the weekly fruit and supermarket battle?

Are we really moving forward or just making more work for ourselves.

This may seem cruel, but the whole point of paid for play is that I get let off the responsibility of being an endless source of entertainment. Parenting generally is exhausting. Parenting alone is relentless and it is crucial to give yourself time out now and again.

Of course it does seem slightly perverse to pay to spend the afternoon indoors on what has turned out to be one of the sunniest days this month, but I comfort myself with the fact that I am actually protecting us both from harmful UV rays. I have never been the kind of mum to remember sun lotion, so this is the next best thing.

Sure we could have romped through woods looking for animal tracks or other such wholesome activities, but then it’s difficult to read the papers when you are attempting to bluff your way in tree identification. You can try the park, but the chances are at our local that you’ll have to contend with a steady stream of bored teenagers swearing and hogging all the best stuff. Plus at the park there is no escape from the plaintive cries of ‘mummy can you push me on the swings?’

At our indoor soft play centre my energetic seven year old is guaranteed to find a friend and I am off the hook. After ten minutes she is already holding hands with one of the big girls and I am a good way through The Times. I have brought with me a selection of papers, magazines and books – the second rule of soft play is to be prepared – and I work my way happily through them, easily blocking out the screams of toddlers and the flashing of the muted flat screen TVs that line the walls.

Soft play is basically low cost childcare. For a paltry £14 a month I can have unlimited access – all I need to do is repeat this afternoon’s session a few times a week and I’m looking at an hourly rate of about 27p. Bargain. Sure, it’s no Montessori, but my daughter has a great time and after a few hours with my head in a book I feel refreshed and ready to climb back on the never ending merry go round of single parenthood.

Kindly written by Jo Middleton. Jo lives in Somerset and is a freelance journalist and single mother of two daughters. You can find out more about her work at www.jomiddleton.co.uk

Often after a divorce, people will look back and say they wished they had tried harder. Divorce isn’t an easy option and you should be really sure as possible before going down this route. It can be costly not just in money terms but emotionally too. If possible try couples counselling. Talking to a third impartial party can help and then after counselling you decide you do want a divorce then at least you know you have tried everything possible to save your marriage.

If I sought legal advice would my husband find out? 

Just because you have talked to a solicitor it doesn’t mean you have started a divorce. You can find out from your solicitor your rights and if your marriage gets back on track then at least you haven’t lost anything. Your meeting will be treated in confidence so unless you tell your husband then no he wouldn’t find out.

Would a trial separation work?

Everyone is different. What works for some, doesn’t work for others. The time apart may be what you need or it may confirm to you that a divorce is what you want.

Friends and family are telling me to leave him.

As well meaning as friends and family are at giving advice don’t let them railroad you into a decision. They are not in your marriage and are making judgements from outside and without all the facts. It’s a very personal decision that only you can make. 

Though we are splitting up, neither of us want to move out during the divorce.

Financial constraints may mean you can’t move out and neither of you have to. But emotionally it might be better to live separately. Even if you are the one initiating the divorce, you don’t have to be the one who has to leave. It’s probably best and more stable for the children for them to stay in their home if possible. Think before you do anything and seek professional advice. 

If I leave would I lose any rights I have to my house? 

No. If the house is in both names or solely in your name then legally you don’t lose any rights at all. It is though in practise easier to keep control of the legal process if you are still in the house. Talk to your lawyer before you act.

I think my husband is going to react badly when I tell him I’m leaving him.

If you think he may react badly then consider having a mutual friend or family member with you when you tell him, they might be able to calm him down and are there for your safety too.

What do I tell everyone? 

You tell them as little or as much as you want. There is no need to be ashamed and might even be a relief to stop pretending everything is fine. You’re not the first nor will you be the last person to go through a divorce so you will probably find a lot of support and sympathy.

The key is to stop panicking that you can’t do it, stop and breathe for a moment. Calm yourself and your fears of raising unsociable, odd socked and misfit children. You’re using up energy worrying about it ( and maybe even making yourself ill) that could be put to better, more positive  use.

Now write a list of what is important to you. Everyone’s list will be different and there is no right or wrong things to put on the list. If it’s important to you and you don’t think you’re coping with it then put it on the list. (Don’t say all of it- be more specific). It can be simple small things that seem huge right now. It can be huge things that you might have to get out side advice for. You would laugh if you read my list. I even had the small unimportant thing of not letting my children ever go out the door in odd socks. Sounds silly to me now but for me at the time it was important.

After prioritising your list, don’t look at it as a list of failures but a list of challenges to be over come. Tackle each item one by one. Some things will just need a bit or advanced organising (like my odd sock thing) to other things you might need to seek advice for.  Just the sheer fact of writing it down will help. When you start ticking things off it should hopefully all become easier.

• Be as honest and open as possible
• Be calm and optimistic about the future
• Say that you are upset/angry/anxious but don’t get over emotional
• Reassure then that you both love them
• Reassure them that they will still see you both
• Reassure them that it wasn’t their fault
• Be prepared with details of what going to happen
• Be prepared to answer their questions
• Let them know that they can talk to either of you about the situation at any time
• Make your talk age appropriate
• Don’t blame or criticise each other
• Don’t make promises you can’t keep
• Don’t tell them to keep it a secret
• Don’t go into unnecessary details of your relationship

 Stop putting yourself down- have a think about how you talk about yourself. Do you arrive somewhere and then dismiss your self by saying ‘only me’? Or do you refer to yourself as being not particularly clever by saying ‘I’m not very good at this’ when someone comments on something you have done? These negative thoughts and actually saying them have a gradual effect and will eat away at your confidence even more. Get rid of them from your vocabulary.

 Don’t compare yourself – there are always the mums at the school gates who look immaculate, have perfectly behaved kids and look like they have the full eight hours sleep. Or the people you pass in the supermarket that just oozes contentment and confidence. Or the sickingly loved up couple at the next table. But you don’t really know what’s going on in their heads or their lives. They might be very good at covering up the less than perfect bits or on there very best behaviour and secretly envy you. Ultimately comparing yourself with others is pointless. Concentrate on your own journey.

 Reframe your thoughts – instead of negative talk change it to positive talk. Stop the ‘I can’t’ or ‘I won’t’ and use ‘I choose to’ instead.

 Picture what you want instead of what you don’t want – I bet you can list a hundred things you don’t want. You don’t want to be lonely; you don’t want to grow old on my own etc etc. But if you are asked what you do want I bet you’re a bit hazier on what you’re am aiming for.

 Set small and realistic goals – given a huge challenge or change then most of us will retreat, close up and think of ourselves as failures. But if you make these things smaller and more realistic then it’s easier achieved and you feel more successful as you achieve them.

 Be patient – nothing of any value is achieved overnight. If it is then it’s false.

 Don’t give up – life will always throw obstacles in your way. The difference between those who make it and the ones that fall by the wayside is that the ones who make it look for a way around the problem or just try again.

 Accept yourself as you are – confidence doesn’t mean perfect. So accepting your self just as your are complete with the less desirable bits.

It’s not due to a lack of partners being available in comparison to when we were younger. If you think about it, divorce rate is currently 1 in 3 marriages. So for every six people, 2 of them are potentially single. So the maths to me indicates it’s not a lack of supply.

There is the obvious bit that you have to be out there. I don’t mean literally loitering on street corners. But actually in a healthy frame of mind to accept someone new into your life and also either out in some sort of social scene (the supermarket does count) or tackling online dating.  

Sadly there is the social stigma that comes with being a single parent, which is we are desperate and will gladly accept any offer that is thrown at us. Throw into the mix that we supposed be grateful that this other person took on our complete package, and it is no wonder single parents get targeted by the wrongens in this world.

The truth is that most of us aren’t desperate and any old partner won’t actually do. We are older and wiser than we dated in our teens or twenties when our wish list was severely lacking in quality. Now we have a better idea of what we want or don’t want. We have a life, all be it revolving around school runs and homework. We have views and opinions that are based on life not just what the media forces on us. And as for being grateful they took on the whole package? (This one makes me fume) it is a considerable honour to be allowed into my family unit and be part of our lives.

So maybe its not that we cant find a suitable man because we are single parents, it’s because we have more respect for ourselves than our teenage years and we wont waste our time on any old partner.

I won’t name names as I can’t but I don’t believe your parents actually need you smoochy and kissims, but it appears this is what you go buy. Now I know it’s all very lovely and cute to go shopping together but could please refrain from shopping on a Thursday night again please. Thursday night is my only kid free night. Instead of ‘living it up’ or lingering over some man I use this opportunity to get shopping done with out constant sweets requests. If this request is out of the question then please bear in mind the following. Trust me it will save you from fate worse then shopping trolley aisle rage.

I have no objection to you buying pizza but in future please choose your toppings pre shop. Having to endure your squeals of delight as you discover you both like the same is somewhat irritating to say the least. Cheese and tomatoes is quiet commonly liked.

It would also be helpful if you could have the surgery that seems to join you at the hips whilst pushing the trolley. I am confident in saying a lot of scientific research went into designing the width of the aisles and trolleys. I do believe that the aisle fit two trolleys side by side but the space equation is hindered when two people push the same trolley together. You might also like to know that the trolleys do safely go at faster speed then dawdle.

Lastly, I appreciate you are both very much in love and have the desire to prove this point at every aisle but there are actually people in there on a mission. To get enough food for a week, on a budget meant for one person for two days, quickly, to feed bottomless pits that never fill up and all in quick time.

Now to totally contradict myself please enjoy this stage of your relationship as it wont be like this forever.

So to be on your own you need to like yourself and be comfortable with yourself. And to be with someone you have to be able to like yourself and be comfortable with yourself.

Will be interested in what all your thoughts are on this. Let me know

There is the childless couple – They happily borrow my children when they want to go to see a kid’s film or do something you can’t get away with unless you have kids in toe. They always come up trumps at Christmas and love to join in my children’s Christmas activities.

The Builder – The male friend who can do builder type things and gladly drops tools off and offers advice on such things. Can also be counted on for platonic nights out and strategically vanishes to the side lines if I get chatted up.

The Car Boffin – I must admit to gathering a few of these sorts of friends as anything under the bonnet of a car is way beyond me.

The Nerd – Even though I know my way around a computer and the internet it is always valuable to know a nerd. They might not set the world on fire but they know their data.

The Feminine Male – You think he should be gay but he isn’t. He is so in touch with his feminine side it makes me feel butch sometimes. Can be relied on for countless talk and advice and thinks everyone and everything is lovely.

The Therapist – Any therapist of any sorts is helpful to have on hand. Free counselling over a drink is the best way to get your mind sorted. Also a brilliant stand in for ‘partners included’ get togethers .

The Intellectual – Although thought of as boring on first sighting, his wealth of knowledge is mind blowing. Not the ideal dinner guest so mainly used as a reference tool.

The Flirt – Useful for bringing a flirtatious smile to the day. But kept firmly at arms length and would no way go there. (Shudders at thought)

Now if I could wrap that little lot into one man I would be sorted.

HUMAN BODY STATISTICS

• Food takes 7 minutes to go from the mouth to the stomach.
• A human hair can support a weight of 3 Kg.
• The penis of the average man is three times bigger than his thumb. 
• The hip-bone is more solid than cement. 
• A woman’s heart beats faster than a man’s. 
• There are around one million bacteria on each of your feet. 
• Women blink twice as often as men. 
• A person’s skin weighs twice as much as his brain.
• Your body uses 300 muscles just to keep you in equilibrium while standing.
• If your saliva can’t dissolve a piece of food, you can’t taste it.
• If you are a women, you have finished reading this message.
• If you are a man, you are still measuring your thumb.

So I am challenging you to find your cloud 9 and do what ever it is for ten minutes every day. Yes ten minutes everyday. Don’t try the ”I’m too busy” line as I am one of those too busy for everything sort of people and I know if I do one less email or forget the dusting for one day I can find a spare ten minutes if I try really hard. Finding these precious ten minutes and having a cloud 9 moments makes a massive positive difference to the rest of the day. Not sure what your cloud 9 moments is then here are some ideas

Reading a book – many of us read a book just before we fall asleep. Then the next night you end up having to read half of the bit you read the previous night as you were far too sleepy to read properly. Ten minutes in the middle of the day will feel just slightly a bit naughty and make you smile

Paint – doesn’t matter if it’s on paper or on the walls. If it’s your passion then get the paint brushes out

Call your best friend – not to arrange school runs or boring stuff but to have a good old girly chat and giggle

Walk – Even if it’s to get milk via a more scenic route it still counts

Sing and Dance – Get the music on, turn up the radio, sing and dance around the house

Write – Is there a novel hiding in you or a diary you have written since childhood? Or maybe a letter to a friend

Meditate – ten minutes of meditation in which ever way you like

Sit down with a perfect coffee and just silence – this is one of my cloud 9s. In a house that always has noise of some sort going on, silence is very precious and just bliss.’, ‘

N.B – that’s of course if your daughter is of the trendy variety. I am told there are a few out there who do know how to dress. I have not found an example of this rare breed yet.

THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes.
There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, and complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of ‘pretend’ bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man will have to budget in money
for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time–no emailing.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor’s appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the A & E.

He must also make biscuits or cakes for a social function.

Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn himself with jewellery, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.
They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 8:00 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child’s birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor’s name.

Also the child’s weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labour, each child’s favourite colour, middle name, favourite snack, favourite song, favourite drink, favourite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if..he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment’s notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years eventually earning the right
To be called Mum!