I've become my Mother

Somehow, in the last few months, I have turned into my mother. This is a good thing generally as she is a dynamic, glamourous, fun and loving mum. Yesterday as I was flying around cleaning up flung toast, nibbling on my breakfast, checking email and talking on the phone it struck me: I am now a queen multi-tasker. The mess in the kitchen is no more. The laundry gets done with little time stewing in the basket. The shopping appears at our door like clockwork. The bills are paid [thank you direct debit!] Yes, it has happened: I am a grown woman and master of my household. Just like my mum.

Now, this might be a false sense of security. While I'm feeling all smug and multi-tasky things could creep up on me. I know the usual suspects: the stack of post, the dry cleaning to be taken in, the buttons to be sewn. And not to mention the clothing labels to be ironed in. [Those dastardly hallmarks of modern motherhood!] So I will be vigilant, I will not let the cloth fall from my weary hand or my husband tempt me with compulsive TV. I will be serene, on top of things and always smiling - just like my mum.

Watch this space to see if I can maintain it - if I wasn't all full of the positive mental attitude our American cousins tout I would be hinting that the next post might be titled 'When Hell Froze Over.'

Playground Heaven...or Hell?

Our local council has just proved that old adage: if you build it, they will come. Two years ago, the good people at Thames Water dropped the ball and the local park was flooded with all sorts of unspeakable things. Of course, the worst affected area was the high traffic playground. Fast forward 2 years, numerous consultations (which never seem to work anyway) and about 40 trips to see if the replacement playground was ready and lo! and behold! it is. This quaint little park in the greenbelt conveniently located behind the house is now open for business. It's shiny and earthy at the same time, imitating nature with giant leaves acting as canopies and fish swimming across the matted floor. It has all the usual hallmarks of the playground: slides, swings, climbers and a little bit more. The roundabout is level with the ground. One of the slides is a tandem so it's twice the fun. The paint is glossy. I have to admit that I am really impressed with how far along playground design seems to have come. My little boy loves this new adventure oasis. Unfortunately, so do the local set of rough teens.

Now, I remember what it was like to be a teenager - or at least I think I do ;) I just don't remember the smoking, swearing and general mass disturbance at the ripe age of 13. My husband says that I have blocked out any ruffian-type behaviour that I engaged in, but I'm just not sure that I was as obnoxious as those that are already establishing a toe-hold on this local park. I like to think I'm not alone in having an issue with teens screaming obscenities at the top of their lungs? And call me a prude, but at the age of 13 (if that) is drinking a can of lager in the local park at 2PM really the done thing? Do these children have no respect, no morals...no parents?!!! A playground is for play and for children at play and hey, it's cool if they sneak in at twilight or rough about at night but not when my 18 month old is there in the full shine of day, thank you!

Do you agree? Or am I just totally old school?!

Being Foreign

It's Canada Day today - hurrah (said in a mock English accent!) I was not born on this soil but have called it home for the vast majority of the last 11 years. The UK has been good to me: great husband, lovely fledgling English son, a big job and good friends. It hasn't always been easy though. I am asked everyday where I'm from, or how long I'm staying. I can practically hear people thinking "she's not from here, she doesn't understand" when I question the status quo. [I do this regularly - it seems to be my trademark and am known for it in my social circle. I mean, come on, it's totally acceptable to challenge things which make no sense like no child swimming in the outdoor pool until after 4pm!] Those of us with non-Brit accents stick out. That's fair, I get it, but sometimes it's nice not to be so obviously different. My BFF is also Canadian but spent her early life in Yorkshire and she puts on a cracking accent when speaking to anyone official because it's easier. No questions, no assumptions, no being the other.

Being a foreign mum has resulted in me meeting lots of other foreign mums which is fantastic. I have a wealth of friends who are from all over the place: Bolivian, Mexican, Argentinian, Czech, South African and more. It's like the United Nations at the local playgroup in our corner of South West London. Our kids will grow up English but hopefully proudly declare they're half English and half xxx which is fantastic. My husband and I laugh over whether our son will say 'rooouf' a la Canadian or roff in the English style. Either way, he has a heritage to be proud of, even if his mummy is a little different! Or should I say 'mommy?'