London, a love story
A tourist, pictures and places, passing through with excitable awe,
Promising to return for a longer stay, head and a heart full of future.
Seeking prospects, property, aspirations but ignoring lovelife all around.
A student, scary intrigues leading to even more fearful examination,
Questions answered by waves of further inquiries, my tribe member found.
Ignoring prospects, property, aspirations and seeking lovelife all around.
An immigrant, waiting for approval, that can only be found from a hug,
Daydreams distract from the desperation, a friendly family formed.
Low prospects, lovely property, high aspirations, ugly lovelife by the sea.
An assistant, commuting underground, fighting grabby hands and leers,
To find dramatics both in work and play, Olympic Jubilations embraced.
High prospects, ugly property, low pay, lovely lovelife in the city.
A girlfriend, leaps to the suburbs and into self employment hoping to find a net,
Commuting, compromising, charging ahead, creating a home together.
Low rent, freelancing pay and exploring everything London has to offer.
A wife, seeking a persistent living to charge career ahead but sexism governs,
Travelling, compromising, struggling yet deciding to create a life together.
High rent, underpaid employment and exploring everything online about babies.
A mother, scared, breaking, struggling every second and searching for relief,
Frightening forces of love fling me through isolation, learning what true strength is.
Seeking futures for two, domestic servitude and anxious explorations in parenthood.
A house parent, nervous enthusiasm met with continual resistance and struggles,
Full on schedules chain me to six more lives, challenging everything I thought I knew.
Seeking futures for the masses, educational servitude and expanded views in parenthood
Cold sweat forms on my brow as I carefully look over the information on the screen. I go to push the button and the last decade flashes through my mind. My head begins to float as I try to remember purchasing my first one-way ticket to London.
But I can’t.
I remember selling my car to pay for it. I remember having to purchase it last minute. I remember thinking how foolish I was for not saving more over the last year. I remember sitting with my parents trying to both “kill” time and make it stop while waiting in the airport before the first leg of my journey. I remember trying to burn my families’ images, voices and embraces into my brain. I remember trying not to cry too much and to focus on the moments ahead.
I remember trying to appear strong but feeling like I was made out of sugar glass.
Things are very different in America now. As am I. A girl left but now will return as a woman. Have I changed for the better? How has my family members changed? How has the job market changed? How has the political atmosphere altered? These are all things running through my head.
It’s bought. Three one way flights to the U.S. It’s happening. BLIMEY. Not that this is a spur of the moment decision. We have discussed it for years, it took 14 months for us to go through the Visa process, several months of downsizing / packing up family possessions and a month to make Peaches an American citizen. So. This is happening!!!
Wait, I’m confused, what is happening…..
...oh let me explain. In July my South African partner and British daughter are moving to America with me. There will be some alterations to the blog/instagram as we transition. Some further delays in posting may be possible (as we do not even own laptops anymore… whhhhhhhhat. #DOWNSIZING). But. I will keep the writing up - in whatever form it may evolve into. I am still a dummie. The writing will continue, I hope you dear reader, will come along for the ride.
What do I contribute to this society?
But. It is something I ask myself every so often but seems to come up more and more recently. Is it the gray haze of wintery blues making me go through mini self assessments or normal as a thirty something year old?
But the sunless days spent inside our room (remember we live in a studio flat) seemingly doing the same activities over and over cannot help. Is the way I have the television on as, background noise to me, going to alter my daughter’s brain?
But I try to balance it out with reading, physical activites and crafts as much as possible while remaining sane. Is there more I could be doing?
Yes. No. Maybe. I dunno.
But notice how my focus always goes to the kid(s). Continuously. When I go to bed, I am more often than not thinking and worrying about the children over myself. And that is how it should be.
That is being a parent.
And I am cool with that. Am I though?
^^^I am trying to write this while preventing Peaches from breaking or strangling herself my pair of headphones/climbing on me bumping my typing hands/yelling sheep while jumping on the couch next to me as Cbeebies blares in the background.^^^
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.