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Wednesday, 11 July 2012

then and now

I met up with one old friend (Alison) and one old online friend (Vero) last night for a very delicious curry at Pipasha in Cambridge. That's it, I'm going to stop putting links in this post now. Thank you for staying with me.

I haven't seen Alison in a very long time - probably since our friends Jack and Heather moved back to New Zealand in 2005 - but we've been chatting via Twitter. Vero is a longtime blog reader/fellow blogger who's "known" me since Paul and I started dating. We had a great time over great food and it was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. We talked about work (past and present), mutual friends, knitting, pets, houses, trips, and very little about kids, mostly because I'm the only one who has small humans in the house. I was reminded of people and places I hadn't thought of in years, in my life before motherhood. I'd completely forgotten about the stuffed squirrel in my cottage in Willingham.

What struck me is how much of myself is now defined by being a mum. I don't think anyone else is defining me as such; it's just down to how I see my life now. There are things that I wouldn't consider doing now and interests that have gone far, far on the back burner.

Vero talked about going to the south of France on a knitting workshop and my first thought was tinged with jealousy over my loss of freedom. As I think about it now, why the hell couldn't I go to the south of France on a knitting workshop for a few days? Okay, apart from the fact that I have no money. Let's pretend that I've managed to secure several lucrative contracts and squirrelled away a big lump of cash in my current account. Money issues aside, there is no reason why I couldn't get away to focus on something I'm interested in.

I've never been one to feel huge amounts of mummy guilt about being away. I have absolutely no qualms about getting a babysitter and enjoying a rare night out with Paul, and I'm pretty sure my sanity would do a runner if I didn't have these nights. My brain is about 80% occupied with things related to the kids, though. (The other 20% involves cooking, tidying, laundry, and wine.) I very rarely think of myself and it often simply doesn't occur to me to do something on my own.

So now I'm thinking about it. I have no idea what I'd like to do, but the point is that I should keep my mind open to the concept. Maybe I'll start with Fibre East on Sunday and ogle lovely yarns. Maybe I'll buy something and actually take the time to knit something again. Gosh, the possibilities.

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