My Working Day

As you know, I recently went back to work.

I now work three days a week. On those days, this is what happens:

6am: alarm goes off. Get up, have a bath, put on an old t shirt, dry my hair.

7am: put S in high chair and give her breakfast. Do make-up while she eats. Also get all our stuff together to take with us: my handbag, S's nursery bag, my packed lunch. S's coat and sling ready to go.

7:30am: get S out of highchair, dress her in a clean outfit I prepared and brought downstairs last night. Leave her playing in the living room while I go upstairs and get dressed.

7:50ish: bundle S into the sling. Make sure I've got my handbag, packed lunch, coursebook for lunch time study, S's nursery bag.

8:am: Arrive at nursery; spend a few minutes sitting on the floor with S and her keyworker to make sure she is settled.

8:15 stop at Costa to make myself feel better for abandoning my child

8:30 start work

Midday: half-hour lunch break, spent sitting in the rec room (or outside if weather permits) reading my Child Development course book

This is my lunch time view.

3:30: finish work. Mad dash around to any shops necessary

4pm: collect S from nursery. Chat to keyworker about how she's getting on. Coat on, sling on, out the door, walk home.

4:30pm: tea time.

5pm PJs time

5:30pm supper and stories

6pm bed time

6:30pm wash up, tidy living room. Clean high chair. Prepare packed lunch for tomorrow. Re-pack nursery bag to include clean clothes and enough nappies. Sort out S's outfit for the morning. Take some fruit out of the freezer for my breakfast. Ensure there is something kicking about that can be used for tea tomorrow. Attempt some studying before passing out.

All of this assumes S stays asleep once she goes to bed. Usually she wakes once or twice before I go to bed. Just lately she's not been so keen on sleeping before I'm in bed with her, and it's been very... interesting trying to fit all the essential gubbins into my evening

Catching up on missed cuddles

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You may find it interesting to compare this post with this one I wrote before I returned to work.

Awarded the "Very Inspiring Blogger" Award by Teddy...

The lovely Teddy at the Pregnancy and Parenthood Blog has nominated me for the "Very Inspiring Blogger Award," which is nice... And there are instructions...

1. Display logo on blog - check
2. Link back to the person you have so inspired - check
3. Tell 7 things about yourself
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers and link back to them
5. Perform 1 random act of kindness and include what you did in your post.

So, 7 things about me then...

1. This post is me procrastinating. I have two assessments I should be working on right now, and I allowed myself to sit with the laptop only on the proviso that I use it to research sensitive parenting... Go me!
2. I can still remember the longest word in the Russian dictionary, which I was taught about 20 years ago... (omg where the hell did 20 years go)
3. I have a spreadsheet where I keep track of how much gas and electricity I use each week.
4. I go to Costa Coffee a lot... but I don't even have caffeinated coffee. And, rather sadly, the staff now know my order better than I do (it's a rather ridiculous, 7-word affair)
5. I am still tempted to put my fake hair back in - it would be SO much easier in the mornings if I didn't have to do my hair!
6. I've just realised that rather than coming online and procrastinating, I have about 5 books on my bookshelf I could have looked at for research. Fail.
7. I really need a wee but am scared to go upstairs in case the movement wakes S, who is having a well-deserved nap after getting out of bed on completely the wrong side.

Regarding the 15 bloggers... my mind always goes blank at these things, and I just did an acceptance with a bunch of bloggers the other day, so I really can't be bothered. Sorry.

Random act of kindnes: I helped my neighbour bring her shopping up the steps yesterday. Aren't I just a little gem.

Review: Popbands

I was lucky enough to receive some Popbands to review on the blog.

Popbands are a new product that come in all sorts of different designs, and the idea is that you can use them to tie your hair up, and when you take them our your hair doesn't have that telltale kink in it.

I have very fine hair, which means it always has that telltale kink. So I was keen to try these.

I originally tried them before I'd had my hair cut - so not only was it very fine, it was also very thick and heavy. I grabbed one on my way out the door to an exercise class the other morning - the ultimate test!

I did find that my hair came loose while I was jumping about to be honest - but to be fair, even with the most hardy of hair bands, my hair is wont to do that. Over all, I was impressed.

I had my hair cut the other day (in preparation for returning to work), and now it's a lot thinner (but still horribly fine). I wore a lovely pink leopard print Popband in my hair for my first day back, and my hair survived the day. It also looked pretty good when I removed the band when I got home!

You can also get headbands in the range, which are pretty handy since I fund that Alice bands always leave a mark across my head. They're all pretty funky so you don't have to be boring with it either. All in all, I'm fairly impressed with them and will most probably purchase some more... In fact, there's a promotion this weekend; if you head on over to their Facebook page there's a code to get £5 off orders over £20!

Disclaimer: I received some Popbands for free in exchange for writing this review, however the free products were not dependent on my writing a favourable review.

The Trussell Trust

As previous visitors to the blog may know, I had a bit of trouble when claiming Income Support a while back.

During the time I was waiting for my claim to go through, the co-ordinator of my local Home Start, Becky, just happened to call to chat about something else. She asked how we were getting on, and I mentioned the situation I was in regarding money. I commented I thought it was ridiculous that people with a child to feed were expected to wait so long before receiving any money.

Becky asked me if I'd like her to get the Trussell Trust to bring me some food, and I said no, thanks; that's for people who really need it. I had been sent some Healthy Start vouchers, and so could buy some fresh fruit and veggies; I was sure we'd be fine. Becky pointed out though, that you can't really live just on fruit and vegetables, and need basic staples to go with them. So that evening a nice man brought me some food. And not just food; there were nappies, wipes, and even some chocolate! There was also a printed sheet with suggested meal options to help make sure the food in the box was used to its best potential. Trussell Trust food boxes are meant to last 3 days, but mine lasted me about a week.

The Trussell Trust released their annual figures this week; some of you may have noticed I was briefly featured on BBC Breakfast News about it. In the last 12 months, the number of families helped by the Trussell Trust has almost trebled: 346,992 is the final figure for the number of families who received at least 3 day's supply of food from them. This is an increase of 170% on last year.

You know how I love my charts, so here's a nice colourful one to illustrate the point:

Chris Mould is the Executive Chairman of the Trussell Trust:

The sheer volume of people who are turning to foodbanks because they can't afford food is  a wake-up call to the nation that we cannot ignore the hunger on our doorstep. Politicians across the political spectrum urgently need to recognise the real extent of UK food poverty and create fresh policies that better address its underlying causes. This is more important than ever as the impact of the biggest reforms to the welfare state since it began start to take effect. Since April 1st we have already seen increasing numbers of people in crisis being sent to foodbanks with nowhere else to go.

Lasy year the Trussell Trust estimated that our foodbanks would help 250,000 people in 2012-13; we've helped 100,000 more than that. 2012-13 was much tougher for people than many anticipated. Incomes are being squeezed to breaking point. We're seeing people from all kinds of backgrounds turning to foodbanks: working people coming in on their lunch breaks, mums who are going hungry to feed their children, people whose benefits have been delayed and people who are struggling to find enough work. It's shocking that people are going hungry in 21st century Britain. 

He's right; it is shocking. I expect a few people were shocked to see that I'd had to use a foodbank. When the service was first offered to me my initial response was "oh no, that's for people who really need it; I'm not one of those people." but it turned out, actually I was one of those people. In this day and age we all have the potential to be one of those people. And realistically, if we're lucky enough to not be one of those people, perhaps we should be one of the people donating to the foodbanks in order to keep them going. You never know when you might need their help.

Here are some fun facts about the Trussell Trust:

• They are Christian organisation that provides three days' non-perishable food to people in need.
• Over 90% of the food given out is donated by the public.
• The Trussell Trust currently have 345 foodbanks across the UK. They are opening 3 new foodbanks each week, and estimate there would need to be 750-1000 in order to help people in crisis across the UK. Don't you think that's a bit disgusting, in Britain, in this day and age?
• The Trussell Trust does not receive any government funding.

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Wordless Wednesday

S watching herself on BBC Breakfast this morning. 

The teddies enjoyed it too!

Further Ponderings on Body Image

This post follows on from this one, written a while ago...

A few weeks ago, a friend posted a photo on Facebook. It was a group shot of a church youth group camping trip, when I was around 14. It took me a while to find myself in the photo and when I did, I was shocked.

At that point in my life, I had practically no self esteem.

My entire childhood, I was convinced I was fat. My older sister had been born prematurely, and was tiny and skinny. My mother insisted on putting us in "cute" matching outfits for as long as she could get away with it, so that in many of my childhood photos there is a fat one and a thin one; a very clear comparison.

At school I remember PE lessons where I had to wear a uniform that was too small; a skirt that only just fastened, and kept flying open. I hated it, and then hated PE too.

By the time I was in secondary school, I hated my body. I knew I was fat and disgusting. I didn't eat a great deal, and whenever my mum was out of the house I would go into the living room and prance about doing her exercise videos - always rewinding them to the exact spot she'd left them at afterwards, so that she'd never know what I'd been up to.

When I remember my teenage years, I remember wearing baggy clothes to hide how fat I was. I remember hiding behind my friends when photos were taken. I grew my hair long, and wore it over my face. I compared myself to my beautiful, confident and popular friends, and found myself sorely lacking.

I didn't think I was morbidly obese or anything; I knew my baggy clothes were doing well at hiding my extra pounds, and that people who didn't know any better said I looked ok; thin, even. But I had several pounds I needed to lose.

Once I lost that weight, and was as thin and attractive as my friends, I would be happy.

Bearing in mind my image of myself at that time in my life, here is a crop of me in that group photo:

Everyone else in this photo has the expression of the girl behind me. They are all open, happy, smiling. I am the only one in black, the only one with my head down, my body closed in on itself.

Look at how skinny I am! I look at this photo and think, you idiot. I missed out on so many years, convinced I was too fat and ugly to just be comfortable as myself. All that wasted time!

If there is one thing I wish for my daughter, it is that she never has a moment like this, looking back at photos from half a lifetime ago, and wondering why I didn't see what everyone else did.

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Single *Working* Mother Ahoy!

Today was my first day back at work in 13 months.

Thirteen months spent getting dressed when I felt like it, mooching about, watching daytime telly (or CBeebies), not needing to brush my hair, not needing to worry about the snot and ground-in rusk on every item of clothing by mid-afternoon most days.

Almost thirteen months of spending all day, every day with my little pickle. Of talking in silly voices and cuddles on demand and perhaps sharing her mid-morning nap if I was tired, and playing with her teddies and mucking about in the ball pit and reading story books and very occasionally sneaking off somewhere for a couple of hours (usually for something delightful like a doctor or dentist appointment).

Thirteen months away from work; thirteen months away from the office, from the logins and the phones and the programs that are used on a daily basis, and the office banter, and the knowing who's who and the knowing the gossip and the whispers.

Clearly knowing something was afoot, S was awake and wriggling by 5:30 this morning. She was a happy little wriggler though, and we actually managed to get out of the house early! This was good, as it meant I had time to sit and play with her at nursery and make sure she was really settled before I left. 

Us, this morning

Work was interesting. It was weird going back there, not least because all the desks and teams have moved, and most of my team has left and been replaced by new people I don't know! It was a nice day though, getting to know new people, catching up with old ones, trying desperately to remember what all the different programs were for. It went fairly quickly.

As soon as 3:30 rolled around I was up and out of the door and off to pick up S, with a quick stop in Tesco to pick up her favourite for tea. I had called once during the day, but was scared to call again - because if they said she was crying I knew there was no chance I'd want to stay at work, and that realistically they need to be able to calm her without me being there - and she needs to get used to them doing that! 

I was let in the front door and rushed up the 2 flights of stairs... as I put my head round the door S looked up and immediately put her arms up to be picked up; she looked like she might cry! I gave her a big cuddle and her keyworker came and had a long chat with us (S joined in) about what they'd been up to. 

S's daily feedback sheet for today says:

S has had a lovely first day. She has been a little sad at times, mainly when she was getting tired. S had a much better afternoon sleep and has been very happy and chatty this afternoon. S went to sleep in a pushchair this afternoon and we have been enjoying having cuddles during the day. S has been very confident in going off to explore the room by herself.

The feedback sheet also informs me she had chilli, rice and garlic bread for lunch, though her clothes were relatively clean, and the bib I put in her bag was apparently unused. I am unsure as to the witchcraft they have used to get food into my child - but I want them to share their secrets!!

All in all, I don't think I could have hoped for a better first day back at work.

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I was Awarded the Liebster Award by Teddy!

This award starts by me sharing 11 facts about myself - then I answer 11 questions asked by Teddy, and then sharing 11 blogs with you. Then I pass this on to 11 other people, who answer my 11 questions, and so on...






So firstly, 11 facts about me:

1. I used to have over 30 piercings... none of them rude. 
2. I respond very badly to being told what to do, in any way, shape or form.
3. I believe I am living proof of the old Nietzsche saying, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I've been through what probably counts as a ridiculous amount of shit in my life... and I'm still here.
4. I'm a bit of a hippie... More than a bit actually...
5. I actually dropped out of a history & politics degree course to work in Burger King.
6. I've been to Burger King College. Fear me.
7. As time goes on, I find I have less and less of it for negative people. 
8. If I walk past you in the street and don't speak, it's probably because I assume you won't recognise me, or want to be bothered by me.
9. If I pay too much attention to my appearance, I get a bit obsessive, and pay too much attention. So I tend to just not bother. Which explains why I look such a state a lot of the time.
10. I am a spelling and grammar snob. If your blog, Facebook and Twitter posts have poor grammar, I probably don't respect you. I often just stop reading things that are poorly written, even if the subject matter is of interest.
11. My house is an absolute tip; I should be cleaning/tidying it rather than sitting here trying to think up a clever 11th fact.

And now, Teddy's questions:

1. What made you decide to start your blog?
I posted a note on Facebook once last September, and a friend commented suggesting I start a blog.

2. If you could have one wish (one wish only) what would it be?
That my daughter grows up happy and secure in her sense of self - essentially, without all of her mother's hang-ups.

3. How many children do you have/want, and what is your max?
I have one, my darling S. I would love to have more, but I honestly can't see it happening. I was just thinking today that I can't imagine ever meeting a man with whom I could share our life, who I could allow to be a father to her. I would have loved to have lots of kids; the children are the only thing I miss about my relationship with the ex.

4.One parent that inspires you, who would it be?
My friend F. She has 3 kids. Her house is always spotless but her kids are happy and she does stuff with them all the time. She makes everything just look so easy!

5. What do you wish for your children when they are your age?
I just want her to be happy. I don't care whether that means she's married, single, gay, straight, a mother, childless, a career woman or a hippie in a tent. As long as she has a proper, genuine smile on her face.

6. What is one movie that is similar to your life and why?
In all honesty, if you put the events of my life up to this point in a movie, nobody would watch it because they'd say it was too far fetched. Even Eastenders wouldn't touch this shit!

7. Who was the first person to hold your first born (not including you)?
I honestly can't remember, but probably her father.

8. Blast from the past!! What is your favourite childhood memory?
When I was 9 my school had a Christmas Hats competition. For some reason my dad was at home (he normally left for work by 4am) and we'd forgotten about it, so he wrapped a big box in some foil wrapping paper and used a knife to cut a hole in the bottom just big enough to let it sit on my head. Then he drove me to school so that I wouldn't be late. I think it was the only time he drove me to school, and I felt really special. The hat won a prize too.

9. What is your favourite blog topic category?
I like blogs about extreme views on parenting. People who home school, work hard to never say certain things to their children, have strong (often seen as "hippieish") views. I love their posts.

10 What do you do in your spare time?
I am currently studying two OU modules - one in English, one in Child Development. That takes up most of my spare time.

11. What is your ideal vacation?
People always groan when I say it, but I love Benidorm and hope to take S there one day.

And now, my questions to my nominees:

1. Do you take part in any regular blog hops, linkys etc with your blog?
2. What is your favourite part of blogging?
3. How long have you had this blog?
4. Do you follow any blogs with a different subject to your own? If so, which ones?
5. Topical - what is your opinion on Margaret Thatcher?
6. What is the first thing you do once the kids are asleep?
7. How long have you been blogging?
8. What is your ideal day?
9. What is your favourite movie?
10. If you won the lottery tomorrow, what is the first thing you'd do?
11. What is one thing you always do, without fail, even if you've had the most hectic day on record?

And finally, 11 blogs I pass onto you for your viewing pleasure:

• A Rush of Love
• Confessions of a Single Mum
• Boo, Roo and Tigger Too
• Cocktails in Teacups
• Homeless Mama (this is Vintage Fee, who did a guest post here recently)
• My Life as a Mummy
• Life with ASD and Me
• Mischief, Mayhem and Motherhood
• Slummy Single Mummy
• Mummy Vs Daddy
• Life with Liv

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Things I *Have* Done

That last entry was a bit miserable and negative, wasn't it. And I really dislike maudlin, miserable, self-pitying people. So here is a list of things I have done:

• I have abseiled off the top of the local college for charity, even though am petrified of heights
• I have survived a less-than-ideal, 10-and-a-half hour premature labour.
• I have survived a year as a single mother, and even done quite a good job at it!
• I have breastfed S for a year. While I don't really see this as an achievement (it's the lazy option for me), others seem to.
• I have decorated my bathroom by myself. There's paint in a lot of places other than the walls, but it's mine, and I did it myself, and I'm proud of it.
• I have run a half marathon
• I have climbed a mountain
• I have survived a week of Simon Anderson Fitness Training Bootcamp. - and lost 5.5 inches in the process!
• I have started and maintained this blog
• I have survived a week with an abscess that I thought was sinusitis
• I have survived having said abscess drained, and having root canal work done, without anaesthetic (more down to my dentist than me to be fair)
• I have survived my father having a heart attack, spending 3 months in a hospital 40 miles away with a brain injury, and then dying.
• I have survived a nasty, abusive relationship with a deeply unpleasant person, and managed to walk away and stay away. (In a lot of ways, this is still a daily achievement)
• I have spent 3 days at a religious retreat at Buckfast Abbey and not gone bonkers through lack of contact with the outside world.
• I have had my neck pierced. Three times.
• I have discovered how to make the best brownies in the world. Ever.
• I have learned to accept that some days, you do the washing up instead of the vacuuming, the story time instead of tackling the washing pile. 

I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself today, actually! 

What are your greatest achievements?

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Things I Have Not Done

• I have not had more than half an hour to myself for 3 days.
• I have not slept more than 2 hours in a row since Tuesday.
• I have not been able to do so much as go to the toilet without taking a sniffling, screaming, separation anxiety-fraught baby with me. Even then she screams when I put her down on the floor right next to me and must be clinging to me at all times.
• I have not called the council to chase up their repair of my bedroom and bathroom ceilings after the roof leak.
• I have not called the doctor to make an appointment for S to have her 1 year jabs (including MMR)
• I have not called the council to get them to put child-proof safety latches on my windows.
• I have not sorted through a year's worth of S's old clothes, photographed them and put them on one website or another to sell.
• I have not checked through my wardrobe to see if there is something sensible to wear to work in an office.
• I have not vacuumed the living room floor for an alarming number of days.
• I have not bought and stewed more apples for S's supper.
• I have not studied this week's material in my English module.
• I have not started the assignment that is due in next week.
• I have not cleaned the kitchen.
• I have not started a Tesco online order, and we are running out of food.
• I have not taken the living room apart in an attempt to find the missing stereo remote.
• I have not done the hand and foot prints I promised myself I'd do with S this week.
• I have not sorted through S's toys to get rid of the ones that are too young for her.
• I have not made a list of relevant information for the calls I need to make on my first day back at work (stop Income Support, start Tax Credits, that sort of thing)
• I have not made a list of the questions I need to ask the nursery
• I have not sorted out a suitable work handbag for me, or a nursery bag for S.
• I have not taken S to the library to choose more books.
• I have not written a proper blog post.
• I have not given S a bath today.
• I have not done the washing
• I have not done the washing up
• I have not taken the bins out
• I have not sorted out the recycling
• I have not tidied up the toys in my bedroom
• I have not cleaned the bathroom

I have also not called a local charity to see if they will swap my large sofa for a smaller one, so that I can take an armchair off my mum's hands. This is what she's most concerned about; I need to "get on and do it" apparently. 

Nothing like a bit of family support, is there. Ah well, onwards and upwards; nobody's going to help me so I'd better just get on with it myself.

This post was a bit miserable and self-pitying, so I made a more positive one here about the things I have achieved.

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Wordless Wednesday - A Whole Year Old!

12 months of smiles!

Birthday Celebrations

Today, S is one year old.

This time last year, I was in hospital, about to give birth to a tiny, premature, 5lb baby girl.

When she was born, I was scared. When they let me take her out of the hospital, I was petrified. I walked down the corridor to the exit feeling like I'd stolen something terribly important, and any minute now the staff would realise, and come and stop me.

For the first few months of her life, I was convinced that someone was going to realise they'd made a mistake in letting me have her, and come and take her away. The midwife, the GP, the health visitor, people at the Children's Centre, people on the checkout at Mothercare. Surely they could all see I had no clue what I was doing, and that I shouldn't be allowed this baby?

Now, a year on, I still can't believe she's mine, and I get to keep her. I feel so privileged to have this amazing, beautiful, funny and intelligent little person living with me. She makes me laugh every day, and also causes me to stop and think, "my gosh, I made that!" 

It's been a really tough 12 months, probably the hardest of my life. But without a doubt, also the most rewarding, the least selfish, the happiest.

Happy birthday to my beautiful baby girl.

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The Philpotts: A Story of Abuse Not Benefits

Much has been written of the Philpotts, mostly Mick, and how he's a terrible benefit scrounger, using tax payers' money to get stoned and play snooker all day. But that's not the real story here; the real story is of a man who has a long, depressing history of violence and control where women are concerned. A man who, as pointed out by one blogger, went as far as killing his children to get back at his ex. This is a story of what happens when a man gets away with years and years of control and abuse. This is what happens when society allows that to happen. When women feel they can't leave, and they have to do as they are told. As is pointed out in the link above, Philpott is not especially evil or twisted; he's just the same as every other abuser out there. Your neighbour, your work colleague, that bloke on the bus who is always so pleasant in the mornings.

Mick Philpott has been described in the Guardian as "a man with a history of violence and controlling younger women." He has been described as possessive, controlling and abusive.

From what I have read of the situation, he had his wife and their children, plus a mistress and her five children, four of whom were his, all living in the same house. The mistress had left, and they were embroiled in a court battle to decide who would have residency of the children. Philpott set fire to his house with the idea of framing the mistress and either getting her to return home, or having the courts award him residency. This idea is not as far-flung as it sounds. All across the country, there are women whose husbands or partners have lied and cheated and been believed by Social Services and the courts.

The girlfriend who managed to escape has said she was treated as a prisoner during her time in his house, with no key to the property and having to ask permission any time she left. When she finally escaped, it was to a women's shelter. 

He treated the women in his life as possessions, to be used for sex as and when he wished, and to prove his manliness by bearing his children - all 17 of them.

Philpott has a previous conviction from 1978, when he tried to kill a woman who finished a relationship with him. He has a track record of attacking his girlfriends who didn't do as he wanted. I read somewhere that he'd hit one of his girlfriends because she produced a child of the wrong sex.

This man had 17 children with five different women. All of the women, even those who didn't live with him, were expected to hand over their money - wages and benefits - to him. The two who lived with him were driven to and from work by him, and were not allowed to go anywhere else without him. They have all said that they ended up in a position where they would say and do anything to keep the peace - even, in Mairead's case, setting fire to their house while her children slept upstairs, and then performing sex acts on her husband's friend to keep him on side.

One of the girlfriends spoke in court of how Philpott would attempt to make her sons violent, and had instructed the oldest son to punch and kick her. When she left, she won a custody battle against him. There's a horrible story in the Guardian about how every Christmas he would tear down the tree and decorations in his anger that those two children were not with him. Not because he missed them or wished he could see them at Christmas, but because their mother had dared to defy him.

The article also mentions that he would often not bathe for a month at a time - something that certainly rings a bell with me. In March 2007, the two women living with him were pregnant at the same time. And yet, people have been saying how he was a devoted dad, a perfect dad, he loved his children. Recognise anything? All of these things: the threats, the forced sex, the women and children being treated as possessions, the daily violence in which the children were encouraged to take part, the women saying they would say or do anything to keep him happy. All of this reminds me of things I would rather forget, but I have to keep remembering, in order to keep them from ever happening again.

This story has so many parallels, not only with my story but with so many others I have heard over the last year. When I speak to women who have been in the position I was in, it's like we're comparing notes on the same man. When I see the women in Philpott's life, I think, There but for the grace of God... I was lucky I was able to cut the ex out of our lives when S was still very small, lucky that people like my health visitor and midwife could see what was really going on, and helped me to get away before it got any worse. Who knows where I might have ended up, had I not had that help and support, had I not found that strength from somewhere on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis to stay away.

I've met women whose children are in care, who have been told they cannot have them back while they are still in contact with their abuser... but they still find themselves powerless to keep away. I've met women who have moved to the other end of the country, who jump every time the phone rings, who know that just because they are out of the situation right now, does not mean they will be able to stay out of it. I've also met women who have gone back, despite dragging their own children back into the mouth of hell with them.

The Philpott story is one of abuse and manipulation. I hope this helps bring the issue into the forefront of the media, where it should be. There should be more support for women trying to leave these situations. There should be more done to stop these men from getting away with so much.

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Wordless Wednesday: A Year Ago Today...

This is me at 34 weeks pregnant, unaware that S would be born in less than a week.

Further Adventures in Benefits

This post follows on from one titled Adventures in Benefits, wherein I explained the fun I'd had claiming Income Support. This is what happened next...

I made an application for Income Support at the end of January, after I'd received my last payslip from  work - as I was told to do when I phoned in the middle of January. I was told to allow 14 working days. On the 14th working day I'd heard nothing so I called them. My application had been declined because the money I was paid at the end of January would last me until the end of February. I could re-submit my claim again at the end of February.

Now, I understand that they don't want to be paying me benefits while I still have wages - that would be stupid. But... well, when you start a job, you work a month in hand, right? Your monthly pay is a month in arrears. And benefit payments are also made fortnightly, in arrears. So realistically the money I received at the end of January covered January and not February, and I should have been entitled to benefit from mid-February. That probably sounds a bit money-grabbing, but it is also basic logic as far as I can see. 

I called back at the end of February and re-submitted my claim. They sent me a form to sign again, and I sent it back again. And so began the 14 working day waiting period. Those of you keeping up with this may have noted that by this point, I have gone a month and a half without money. The Working Tax Credits people don't take 14 working days to process the fact you are not working; that money was stopped from the day I called to tell them of my change in circumstances.

Eventually, after 14 working days, my claim was processed and I was awarded Income Support at £71 a week. The claim was back-dated to the end of February, and a payment was sent - by BACS, which takes 3 working days. So that's now 17 working days.

In the meantime, it was a particularly cold spring, and I still have a hole in my ceiling from the earlier issues with the roof, which means that my heat mostly goes out of the hole and into the roof space. My bedroom is never warm, and I have an electric oil-filled radiator in there at night to keep S from freezing. My gas and electricity could not wait 17 working days for me to top them up and a lot of the money I did have went on that.

My daughter is currently munching her way through as much as she can get her hands on. I tend to be picky about what I let her get her hands on, so my money was going on making sure she had decent food to eat.

Towards the end of that 17 working days, when my bank balance was practically non-existent and the

kitchen was looking a little too Mother Hubbard-ish for my liking, it occurred to me that benefit reforms are due to come in. Now, aside from whether I think they are a good idea, or I think I will be better or worse off with the changes (really, they're so opaque about how these things are worked out who knows until the new payments are made?)... does anyone realistically trust this government to make the transition to Universal Credit smoothly? I sat and thought: do I want to be relying on these people for the only money I have coming in?

This was not helped by the fact that when it got to Day 17 and I checked my bank account, it was decidedly bare. When I called to enquire as to where the hell my money had gone (perpetually paranoid that my application would be turned down and I would be penniless), I was told by the call handler that she simply didn't know why the payment had not been sent, but she would send it now. Doesn't fill you with confidence, does it.

And so, I decided that I would rather go back to work and have benefit help me pay for childcare, than stay at home and rely on benefit to live. It's not very reliable, as it turns out, and that makes me nervous. It was ok to be skint and live off rice and beans when it was just me, but I have more expensive and varied tastes for my daughter. 

From the end of April I will be Single Mother At Work. Expect a lot of griping on the blog as I come to terms with leaving my precious little S at nursery, with getting us both up and out of the house on time, and with covering baby food marks on my work clothes. The nursery settling in session start next week, and I am petrified.

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