"Hello I'm the Cat's Mum"

We all have our different reasons for writing a blog...some people have amazing writing talents, some share their humour and some just like writing about their kids. I started having been prompted by Nappy Valley Girl and started writing about what it was like to bring up my boy...I write professionally for a living, but have been quite determined to keep this as amateur as possible...hence the regular typos and poor grammar. I quickly had another couple of reasons - the boy's grandmother, my mum - Grandma in Cyprus lives in erm Cyprus, so it has become a good way of keeping in touch and letting her know what we've been up to....at least I think that's why she never feels the need to ring any more! Of course, I vaguely remember now a conversation when she said she was moving there to get away from her family....but I'm sure she was joking. And secondly it's a bit of a diary so I don't forget all those precious moments we live through. But I have to be honest, over the last few months, Don't Panic. RTFM has studiously avoided a very big chunk of my life.

March last year, the boy was in the school's production of Macbeth which meant going along for two of the three nights it was performed. if I was truly dedicated, it would have been three...but I had to have some sort of a social life. It had been a slightly traumatic time getting there, and many tears were shed as the boy hadn't buckled down to learning his lines as he should. So as I sat in the audience, he looked at me nervously from the stage desperately trying to remember his words. He did, and played his part very well. I was very proud. Whilst loitering during the interval, someone came up to me and introduced herself: "Hello I'm the Cat's mum" she said, and we exchanged a few words about pocket money and kids wanting to spend their time in Costa Coffee.

Not so many weeks afterwards it was the school trip to Sorrento, and we met again. 5 o'clock in the morning as we waited for the tour bus to depart. I'm not so sure I was very sociable.

And then a couple of weeks later I dropped him round at The Cat's house for a party (her Dad's 50th - they were being picked up by limo and taken to his house). And I may have mentioned before, I was asked if I fancied meeting for a drink. By the Cat's mum. I did indeed drive away thinking this was quite funny. It's not that often I get asked out.

It took a couple of weeks for me to sort out the drinks...I wasn't playing it cool...I was just rubbish. Even losing her number. And her name. So eventually we went out for a drink. As friends. And did so a couple of weeks later. And so this pattern continued for a pretty long time. I had a laugh...lots of laughs in fact even as the summer rolled on. It was going no where, but it was quite fun...we shared a sense of humour and had lots of similar interests. But I was resolute in my singularity.

And then as the Autumn rolled round something changed. It would be hard to say what, although I can say precisely when (although I won't). And suddenly fortnightly or monthly meetings-up became more and more regular. We spent Christmas together.

So regular in fact that The Boy's and my house in Buckhurst Hill has been all but abandoned. Weeds are growing through the paved drive and the crazy-paving in the back yard, dust is gathering in the corners of the sitting room, there are cobwebs everywhere, the garden hedges have run riot and the food in the fridge is rotten.

So life has changed more than I could have imagined a year ago. And only for the good.

The challenge now is not so much how to bring the boy up, but how we both adapt to our new circumstances. It's been a magical time, and I think it will be for a very long time ahead.