Mother Distracted

Wednesday 7 May 2014

Countdown To My 50th Birthday - Where's My Bucket?

Three weeks to go. In all honesty I don't know how I got here. One minute I was rolly-pollying down the grassy slopes in the grounds of Sudeley Castle with my little sister, the next sat in a lecture theatre listening to endless lectures on the Romantic Poets in Swansea University. There I go arranging place cards and menus in a large marquee for cricket hospitality and there I'm lecturing legal interns on marketing. I remember acting in a French play on the stage at the Sherman Theatre and numerous ballet exams spent worrying if the bun my mum had precariously assembled on the back of my head would hold (it always did).

Me with my two menaces, Caitlin & Ieuan

My memories seem to be a collection of tableaux, variously happy and sad - mostly happy, it has to be said.I remember being an au pair for a French diplomat in Paris when I was 19 and the exhiliration of standing alone on the Champs Elysee thinking that no-one in the World knew where I was at that moment (apart from my employer, of course!). I remember a very grim post break-up holiday in Amalfi where even the splendour of that dramatic stretch of coastline and the scent of plump lemons hanging brazenly from the numerous lemon trees did nothing to dispel my gloom. I remember sweeping into the room at St. David's Hotel on my wedding day and seeing the happy look on hubby's face. Of course I remember the two births (caesarian) of Caitlin and Ieuan and the wonder of achieving something so incredible ever so slightly late.

The kids are intrigued at the moment by their family tree and ask questions constantly about their great grandparents. They are also struggling to grasp the concept of death. I tell them "everyone goes up to Mr God". Ieuan is adamant that he wants to come back and can't believe we only get one go - depending on whether you believe in Karma, of course - and actually I think I do.

If there's just one go on the merry-go-round, I suppose I should finally get round to some sort of bucket list. Every time I do this, though, it looks like a rather dull shopping list. Some of the things have been on it for so long, I no longer really want them, or at least I won't spend the money, preferring to save it for the kids. The truth is that, the older you get, the more you realise that it's the experiences in life that matter, rather than things.

I watched Lily Allen on Loose Women today and whilst finding her nonchalence and "I do what I like" attitude deeply irritating (newsflash, if you don't approve of Miley Cyrus' antics, don't take your kids - well, thanks for that insight Lil), part of me still admires someone so firmly lost in her own 'cult of the self'. Get pizza on your face and a brand new Balenciaga frock? Heck, why not, says Lily. "That's what I do". There's a fine line though, between indulging your own passions because you want to and the kind of desperate and rather sad attention seeking that Cyrus seems to have been reduced to. A one-way ticket to Lindsey Lohan-ville.

None of which is getting me anywhere to deciding what I would like as a 50th birthday present or, more importantly setting some sensible mid-life goals. If anyone would like to share their bucket-lists, I'd be very grateful. One year, I asked my mother what she would like for her birthday and her response was "a pack of tooth picks and some new rubber gloves". She wasn't even 40 at the time. I think I'm missing the "present gene".

Jo Frost's Family Matters Talk Show (ITV1 - April 28th 2014) - Do We Have a Game Plan?

Supernanny Jo Frost has a new daytime talk show on ITV which aired for the first time yesterday (April 28th). It's called Family Matters and is a mix of chat and video clips showing problem families at large. I like Jo Frost's no-nonsense approach and only manage her level of capable brusqueness after a large glass of vino so I dutifully (cough) tuned in to see what snippets of parenting nous I could glean.

Supernanny Jo Frost on her daytime talk show, "Family Matters" on ITV1

The show featured two case studies of children who were clearly strangers to the word 'no' and for whom the naughty step was still under construction. Case number one featured three year old Kyle who lived in a house where dust was the enemy and Kelly Hoppen the only welcome guest. Poor Kyle and his eleven year old sister who was kept hidden in a bedroom upstairs, was prone to tantrums due to being unable to complete with a range of ornaments and exhibited all the emotional control of Damien from the Omen. His parents were more concerned with channelling their inner fabulousness than doing anything as messy as colouring -although I'm surprised Kyle wasn't able to recite the full range of Pantone colours. His aunt was wheeled in to sniff into a tissue and to hint that perhaps the parents might be better off, you know, doing some parenting rather than interior decoration and cushion plumping.

Case two featured four boys, two of whom were twins and again, none of whom were familiar with being told no - although they were apparently fully IT literate and had an iPhone. Dad worked seven days a week and came home to hide. Mum shouted. All day. Mother-in-law was wheeled on to purse her lips, fold her arms and utter useful mother-in-law type phrases such as "I think your children are really spoiled" and to wear the facial expression of a woman whose immediate response to any kind of challenge would be to suggest an arm-wrestle.

Jo, remarkably, took quite a back seat in all this, taking the role of mediator and prompter. "What do you think you could do better" she asked, along with other questions such as "how did that make you feel" and the show's catch phrase - "Do we have a game plan"?

Like most daytime TV shows, however, the format relies on creating a judgemental atmosphere and, although at the moment, far less confrontational than Jeremy Kyle, I'd say the potential for running round corridors and storming off is there. I think it will be extremely popular with parents who can at least watch and say "see, I'm not that bad a parent really" which, let's be honest, is really why we watch - we want to benchmark our own performance (which those less confident of us consider as fair to dismal) and see how we compare. There might be a set of 'rules' for romance and sexual relationships but I'm not sure anyone's written the 'rules' for parenting yet. (And no, I don't count the military manoeuvres of Gina Ford et al as sensible parenting rules).

I think the show needs a lot more talk from Jo Frost because if anyone can give us a set of rules, she can and this was the element that I thought was sorely missing from the "Family Matters" format.

So, in the meantime, "do we have a game plan"? Um - over to you Jo.

It's All Go Here At Master Chuff - Ladies & Gentlemen, Let's Cook - Tomorrow

Having watched Masterchef for what seems like eons, I now feel qualified to throw together a sea bass on a bed of 'foam', cobble together cranachen and do something improbable with venison and blackberries.

Unfortunately I have discovered a law of the universe so baffling that even Rhonda Byrne would have trouble hiking an enormous camera crew and numerous American Law of Attraction experts across Bondi Beach to explain it in one of those waffly self-help type films - the number of cookery books you own is inversely proportional to the amount of cooking you actually do - and worse, the level of skill you will attain.

Gregg & John would be traumatised by a visit to Hobbis Towers

I suspect this can be quickly validated by looking at the success of food blogger, anti-poverty campaigner and meal-on-a-budget expert Jack Monroe. Her cooking pizzazz is borne of necessity and uses minimum equipment and no fancy ingredients. I have a kitchen cupboard stuffed full of the most random and hotch potch collection of ingredients which appear whenever I have a new cookery book and kid myself that I will finally try to whip up something to tempt hubby's tastebuds.The mere suggestion of this is enough to make him hide in the cupboard under the stairs until what he considers to be one of my latest hormonal onslaughts has passed.

I think lots of us equate food with love. Us mums are supposed to be legendary cooks, aren't we? Aren't we supposed to arm wrestle each other for supremacy of our Yorkshire pudding or roastie production skills? Our apple crumbles are supposed to be bottomless, our rice puddings skinless and our lasagne worthy of praise from Gino. I'm afraid my culinary CV would simply state "burns pans and creates smells".

Still, whilst Ieuan is still vegetable averse and, as we tell him daily, never likely to grow higher than four feet, nor develop the motor skills to even put a Spiderman suit on, we are still in the "fishfinger years". The kids seem to be doing fine, despite having a fear of gravy and the husband, well, hands up, he tends to do most of the cooking.

Perhaps I'll enter him for Masterchef.

Silent Sunday - 20 April 2014

Review: The Clarisonic Aria from CurrentBody.com - Music To My Skin

I remember, in the 1970's having a facial scrub brush which was a simple battery operated device that would cheerfully exfoliate the skin.

It got abandoned in due course because a heavy duty scrub, like Apri (an apricot shell scrub) would do the job just as well.

And, having young, healthy skin didn't require much more than a light buffing.

Fast forward to today, just seven weeks short of my 50^th birthday and my, how things have changed.

Two young kids (aged 6 and 4) both born in my mid forties have created, understandably, a massive shift in my beauty routine.

What used to be a regular cleanse, tone, moisturise routine has now been generally reduced to a quick spruce up with a facial cleansing wash, removed with a flannel twice a day.

I've always been quite careful to avoid the sun so I don't think I am too wrinkly but the healthy glow I used to have has vanished in favour of making sure the kids do their teeth and getting them either out of the door or into bed on time.

The opportunity to test the Clarisonic Aria from www.currentbody.com came just at the right time.

And it is a seriously sophisticated piece of kit.

Fully rechargable, portable and programmable, the Clarisonic cleanses up to 6 times more effectively than washing your face by hand.

It has three speeds and comes with its own drying stand which also becomes a charging unit by addition of a magnetic USB charger.

I love to read beauty blogs but am often deeply suspicious at 'rave reviews'; by the time you get to 50, you have used a lot of products and generally feel that there is little new under the sun(screen)!

But, cynic that I am, I have to say I noticed an immediate improvement in the tone and colour of my skin.

I haven't worn foundation for ages so friends and family are used to my slightly less than fresh pallor but my hubby remarked (without prompting) that the Aria had given my skin a healthier tone.

My skin looks better than it has in ages.

The brush is very easy to use and has timer settings to guide you.

You hold the brush against your face and move it in gentle circles for 20 second on your forehead, 20 seconds on your nose and chin and 10 seconds on each cheek.

That's it.

One minute!

In your kit there is also a sample size of refreshing cleansing gel which has lovely fresh smell and lathers up with just the smallest amount.

It is recommended that the brush head (which is detachable) should be changed once every three months or so.

I agreed to test the Clarisonic Aria for a period of 5 weeks after which the brush would either be returned or purchased at a discounted price.

This seems to me an entirely sensible approach to testing a product like this because it is easier to be truly objective when you are considering investing in your beauty routine.

The Aria retails around the £155 mark, however, being a fan of spa treatments, it was easy to compare against the price of a good facial which, here in Cardiff is around the £70 mark.

Frankly, the results given by the Aria after just a couple of uses are better – and I just used it once a day, whereas it can be used morning and night.

I quickly got used to cleansing with the Aria each morning and would now be loathe to part with it, such is the difference it has made to my skin.

I also think that proper cleansing has made my moisturiser work better and the discipline of having a routine again, albeit one that finally fits in with the kids, has made me want to take better care of my complexion.

Another knock on effect is that my improved skin has made me more enthusiastic about using make-up again – a light BB cream and blusher – because a heavy foundation is simply not needed.

If you have become lost in the mire of new cleansers and the latest high tech ingredient, my advice would be to try the sonic power of the Clarisonic Aria because you may find it's not the cleanser that makes the difference, it's the cleansing technique.

And, for the price of a couple of salon facials (and far less than some of the top of the range moisturisers and cleansers), the Clarisonic Aria is an incredibly cost effective way to get great skin.

*I was given the opportunity to test the Clarisonic Aria on a return free of charge or purchase at a slightly discounted price basis from CurrentBody.com. All the views expressed herein are my own. And yes, I will definitely be purchasing it!

Nearly 50 - You Can't See Me - Right?

In the acreage of unmitigated cobblers that passes for journalism in the "wimmin's section" of the tabloids, the latest neurosis du jour for us 'middle youthers' is that, come 51, a Harry Potter cloak of invisibility will shroud the menopausal, rendering them henceforth spectral and condemned to a ever decreasing lifespan of calcium yoghurt and Tena Lady.

Can anyone see Joan Collins? Completely invisible at 81

We have been regaled by numerous sad tales of women who "walk into a room and are not noticed". Coming from a family who struggle very hard to actually recognise each other when out and about (my father has to be under a foot away before it dawns on him that I am one of his offspring), I honestly don't think this has anything whatsoever to do with age.

There are appear to be two schools of thought. Either you revel in your new invisibility to dress like a frazzled Miss Marple after too many gins or you go a bit 'cougar' and Bet Lynch yourself up in leopard print, download Tinder (not, as I thought something to do with matches) and get yourself a large 'young male totty net'. You can then do all the things you probably never did in your adolescence such as double date and worry about STIs.

Yes, you could make it a sexist issue, or an ageist issue. You could get all steamed up about the fact that men, in all likelihood are pre-programmed to seek out the youngest, most fertile member of the opposite sex to bed and subsequently ignore while they go out to play golf. But what is the truth?

Dare I say it - it's not all about you. Those people in the room may well be engrossed in conversation. Unless you're Joan Collins, the party is unlikely to grind to an awe-struck halt. On the other hand, your body language and personal presentation may be putting people off from approaching you. Shuffling Igor like with a manifest lack of confidence and wearing a sack dress that would give Carol Vorderman nightmares is not going to get you any attention. I would also suggest avoiding all clothing which claims to be 'eau de nil', or any dress cut shorter than Ant and Dec. And as for anoraks. Repeat after me: "I am not an eskimo". Unless you are, of course, in which case, the broadband in your igloo is a whole heap more impressive than mine.

Can we please use a modicom of common sense here and recognise that i) we are bloody lucky to have lived so long and ii) it is up to us to make ourselves interesting - read, learn, develop, grow, get involved in the World. I forget who said it but there's truth in the saying that as we get older, even if we are no longer in the first flush of beauty, we can still be gorgeous. Is it really all about attracting a partner? Was it ever?

Anyway, I think we can all cheer up because next week there will no doubt be an onslaught of verbiage about "sexy older women". In which case, I hope the weather warms up because it's way too cold to take my thermals off. I'm off for a gin.