I well remember the days when the divorce was going through the worst of many bad patches. We’d been to mediation and it had broken down, much to my ex’s fury. My lawyer looked over the terms discussed in mediation and pointed out I’d be left in a perilous position. I had no choice but to soldier on with my legal advice instead of going via the mediators.

It was unpleasant, it was stressful, it was very time-consuming. I had emails at all hours of the day and night, I had to photocopy documents constantly, I was always on the phone, I felt as though I was running a very inefficient, under-staffed, one-woman company whose sole output was misery.

But it came to an end. I got my scrubby piece of paper, the decree absolute (or is it the decree nisi? Lovely not to be able to remember) cancelling out that other, more glorious piece of paper, my wedding certificate.  And, though at the time my guilt at the end of the relationship meant that I kept trying to appease my ex, my lawyer constantly told me to curb these impulses. It was good advice. Though I didn’t accept it at the time, and made some very costly concessions just because I had been left feeling so awful about everything, I now see it all differently. It takes two to make a happy marriage, so why would anyone assume one person can make the whole edifice collapse all by themselves? It takes two, most definitely. So remember, however guilty you feel (and whatever reasons you may have to put yourself in the wrong) you would not be in this position at all if you could continue to live with your ex.

Don’t do what I did, do what the lawyer tells you. If you don’t have a lawyer – get one! Maybe try the Law Society’s list, maybe get a recommendation from friends, maybe look at Online Divorce Experts. Whatever option you go for, good luck.

This, for my girls, is the Dream Dream. They both loved the books and films and we’re all slightly bereft since the series has come to an end. Both of them have occasionally had Harry Potter dreams which, they both agree (miraculous in itself) is the absolute best type of dream you could ever have.  I can imagine it must be lovely; being inside Hogwarts, after knowing it so well in theory, must indeed be a dream come true. And meeting the characters, and being in the story, instead of just watching from the outside … fantastic. Lucky them, I’ve never had a Harry Potter dream.

It turns out they are not alone. A lot of their friends have had Harry Potter dreams as well. It seems to be a bit of a teen phenomenon. I wonder whether J K Rowling knows that she has provided the backdrop to a generation’s dreams, influencing their psyches even when they are asleep. Top of the dreams so far, both Child One and Child Two agreed, was one enjoyed by a very privileged friend a couple of years ago. ‘She went on a date with Ron!’ they marvelled. Did she actually have a crush on Ron beforehand, I wondered? ‘No, not at all, but she said that he was really, really sweet on their date. She’s so lucky,’ they both sighed. Dreamy, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Every girl's dream

I don’t need to tell you that times are hard. I sometimes wonder how other people manage. I sometimes wonder how I manage mysefl! One way I make ends meet is, occasionally, to do a sponsored post, like this one, which is going to be all about yummy Barclaycard.

Ok then, so Barclaycard is helping me – but it could also help you. I would never recommend running too many credit cards at once. I did this at university, and ended up in a pickle, and this was in the days when all that education was absolutely free, no tuition fees at all. Not clever to finish off in debt. Luckily it wasn’t a serious hole I’d dug for myself, and I soon got a job and paid it all off. It’s not always that easy these days. But, if for some reason you do need to get a new credit card, it really does sound as though Barclaycard is the way to go at the moment.

There are four main deals to look out for, but apply by midnight on 31^st May 2012 or you’ll miss out:

·       Market leading 22 month 0% BT offer is now even stronger with the introduction of a brand new £30 discount on the transfer fee (for transfers over £2,500)

·       New 15/15 deal – 0% interest on both purchases and balance transfers for 15 months, an extra month improvement from the current 14 / 14 offer.

·       The low BT fee card (fee of 1.6%) is extended to 17 months duration, increased from 16 months

·       A completely new, 0% interest on all purchases for the first three months with Barclaycard Initial, a product designed for those customers who are new to credit

David Chan, chief executive of Barclaycard Consumer Europe said: “We’re very excited to be offering even better value and such a huge amount of choice to new customers; from those wanting to manage their money better, to those who are seeking to build a credit history.”

To be honest, a lot of the fine print rushes straight over my head, ruffling my hair pleasantly. What is a transfer fee? Is it something to do with football? How does interest work? I’ve no idea. The 0% interest on purchases for the first three months for new credit card users sounds good, I think that means basically you don’t have to pay the whole lot off and won’t get charged for three months. Find out more on the Barclaycard site if you’re tempted.

What I do with my own credit card is even simpler – pay it off every month. That way there is a natural brake on my spending, as I know I can only pay off so much, and I don’t pay any extra in interest fees to the credit card company. I don’t suppose it makes me a very exciting customer for the banks, even for adorable Barclaycard, but I expect they’ll live

I’m not sure what I love best about it, the Cinderella transformation of a filthy, junk-filled tip into a habitable home, the therapy element courtesy of the wonderfully dressed psychotherapist, Stelios, or his matching ties, shirts and hankies, which so far have appeared in yellow, blue and red. Lovely!

Both Child Two and I were upset by the condition of the first patient/candidate’s cats, one of which seemed very mangey-looking. They lived a bit like mountain lions, ranging across his teetering Everests of old sewing machines and willow pattern plates, pooping where the fancy took them and eating rubbish off the kitchen floor. Poor things! I can (just about) see how someone can be so overwhelmed by grief/anger/something-or-other to let their house get in this state, but I can’t see how they can inflict it on their pets …. but that was before we met the second candidate, who had cats, dogs, a rabbit and a chicken, yes a chicken, living free-range in her own house full of tat.

Unlike previous makeover/declutter shows, the idea here is that the hoarder undergoes six weeks of therapy with the colourful Stelios, by the end of which it’s quite unlikely that they will revert to their burrow-creating ways. It’ll be interesting to see if it really does work long term.

Obviously, it’s inspired me to do a bit of life-laundering myself. I’ve got the plastic bags, the rubber gloves and the hoover at the ready. Off I go, thanks to Channel 4 and the therapist’s lovely ties.

I think there's a chicken behind here somewhere ....

You’d think, as they are so young, and the rule is that they have to do all the coursework for the exam in school, that the teachers would remind them to save all their work on their silly little memory sticks. But no, apparently not. Child Two said they did get reminded at the beginning, but then I suppose the teachers assumed the message had sunk in. Well, not with Child Two. She didn’t save or back anything up, and lost all her coursework when the stupid stick became corrupted. Of course I’m not blaming the teachers for Child Two’s mistake ….. oh, what am I talking about, of course I am. She’s 14, they are supposed to be experts in the subject and they are supposed to be supervising all the work. Harrumph.

Despite me throwing money at the problem, we didn’t manage to retrieve all the data from the stick. Where are secret agents when you need them? These SIS folk always recover every bit of info from wiped, crashed or lost computers with a flick of the wrist ,on Spooks, Homeland or whatever. Anyway, it seems MI5 was too busy stuffing troublesome agents into holdalls to help poor Child Two. My computer man did manage to retrieve some very odd bits of tourist information about London, written in German, from the stick, but that wasn’t an enormous help with the GCSE. In the end, Child Two has had to be put on the ‘short course’, which will end up getting her half a GCSE in a subject, which won’t even count when she thinks about applying for other schools or colleges (now looking like a distinct possibility).

Deep breath. Child Two’s early GCSE ordeal is nearly over. Meanwhile, Child One is doing about eleven of the blighters, starting next week. Arghhhhhh!

nasty little things

It seems like only yesterday that I was having arguments with my girls about orange juice. No, they couldn’t have orange juice on demand, at any moment of the day or night, I used to tell them. My position was that it was bad for their teeth and water is the best drink anyway when you’re dying of thirst, which of course they always were. Yes, they could have it with meals, but not in between. It doesn’t sound draconian – unless you listened to the girls, who strongly believed they were being held in conditions which would make Sparta look like a luxury spa. Every now and then, my outpost would come under even more rabid attack than usual, when the girls returned from playdates with friends, who all seemed to have fountains running with freshly-squeezed juices or swimming pools full of, yikes, Fanta.

How I miss those battles now. We are just entering the much more complicated  arena of alcohol. I know that some parents of girls Child One’s age now buy their children alcohol to take to parties. Child One herself has been to parties where there is beer or wine. She’s had the odd sip of wine at the dinner table since she was a small girl, just to taste, usually accompanied by a face scrunched up tight in disgust. I know we are soon going to get to the point where she wants to take a bottle to parties. A large part of me wants to cross this bridge only when I come to it (and even then, I wouldn’t really mind a blindfold) but I know that’s not helpful. I really don’t mind her having the odd drink. I do mind, though, that she will, inevitably, one day, sooner or later, have too much to drink. We’ve all done it, maybe once, maybe often, but it is inevitable, I feel. And the consequences of drunkenness seem so much worse now than when I was that age – date rape drugs, unscrupulous rugby players, even packs of half-dressed girls lurching, stiletto-clad, all over town centres, embarrassing themselves and making our country an international laughing stock.

Alcohol is much more directly marketed at teens now than in my day. Then, if we were lucky, we could afford one of those vast brown plastic bottles of Thunderbird cider – which was absolutely horrible, and did cut down the amount anyone could bear to glug down. Now, you can get alcopops, caffeinated energy drinks with booze added, ready-mixed cocktails in handy cans and even trendy lagers and beers. It just all tastes a lot nicer, and it’s probably cheaper too.

If you’re worried about what to say to your teenager about drinking, pop along to Drinkaware - they have a lot of helpful advice that, with any luck, will keep all our children out of A & E on a Saturday night.

Bring back orange juice, I say.

I hardly ever let anyone write a post for me – 99.9 per cent of the witterings you see here are mine alone. But I really liked this post by Carly Morson, suggesting clever ways of keeping yourself together during that whole splitting up/divorcing process. Hope you find it useful.

Staying sane through divorce by Carly Morson

It sounds flippant, but I’m only half-joking with this title. The stress of divorce can stretch your tolerance so thin that sometimes madness can seem just one more bureaucratic solicitor’s letter away. I became so tense during my divorce that I began snapping at everyone, and that really isn’t a good way to live for long. Amidst the stack of divorce advice you’re no doubt receiving from friends, family, and those late night scourings of the internet, the most important is to make time to relax.

If you’re constantly tense, you may have to teach yourself how to relax again, be it through deep breathing exercises, swimming, watching old favourite films… Whatever you choose, and however busy you feel, it’s essential that you make time to relax, regularly, because maintained stress physically stops your immune system from functioning properly, and makes it much harder to make intelligent decisions about anything.

Breathing

Deep breathing exercises physically relax your diaphragm and get oxygen to the stressed-out parts of your brain that need to be fully functional right now. Two of my favourite tips:

- taking it slowly but not asphyxiating yourself, breathe in for a count of five, hold for five, then out for another five. Pause, and then repeat – five times! Do this every couple of hours, when on the loo, on the bus or whenever you remember.

- imagine that your chest is naturally filled with air. Push your breath out. Then feel your chest refill, like a sponge expanding again after you’ve squeezed it.

Meditation, or mindfulness

These are essentially the same thing, but meditation has a more spiritual reputation. Both are methods of letting your thoughts drift off while you stay still and grow calm as you watch them go. People talk about the benefits of bringing yourself into the moment – if this commonly spouted phrase means nothing to you, just know that the physical and psychological benefits are provably enormous. Find a guided meditation that doesn’t put you off with dolphin noises or talk of spirit guides, and give it 20 minutes once a week, until you’re hooked.

Seeing friends

You may expect to struggle with friends who are also close to your ex, but I’ve found that most folk are amazingly tactful, with never more than a few seconds of awkwardness when names are mentioned. It’s probably best to avoid the topic of your ex if you can, for everyone’s sake, but it’s important that you spend time relaxing with friends. If you have maintained friendships that weren’t shared with your ex, all the better – make time for them, as they’re crucial to your sanity right now.

Watch comedy

On stage, or on the telly – just because you’re going through a traumatic experience doesn’t mean you should feel guilty about laughing. I would tell you about its medicinal benefits, and all the neurochemicals it releases that improve your mood, reduce your stress levels and make it easier to handle life – but that might make it less funny.

Go out amongst nature

Nature is scientifically proven to be relaxing! Unless you’re very unlucky, there will be a little patch of it somewhere close by. I live in the city, but volunteer at the tropical conservatory in my local park. It’s only once a fortnight, and I only water the plants, but I get to spend an hour, all by myself, in a nice warm miniature jungle, so it’s perfect even on cold days.

Take my book group. My real life one, not my online one, which is having a rest at the moment (sorry, everyone) while I dash about doing wedding planning. We’re all lovely in the book group, obviously. But we are having something of an unacknowledged tussle over nibbles. Should our evenings involve a proper sit-down dinner, or should we have snacks only (and wine, obviously)? Is opening a bag of crisps enough to show the group that we welcome them and enjoy their company, or will only two courses and a pud suffice? I am in the nibbles camp, particularly after moving, partly as I don’t have much time to prepare something these days and partly because there are a daunting number of brilliant cooks in our number, and I’d like to opt out of the competition. Not that it is a competition, you understand, but I feel that it has the potential to become one. I’ll see your risotto and raise you a River Cafe sea bass, kinda-thing.

Oh dear. I suppose men are competitive, too. But they do it via football, in a my-team’s-better-than-yours sort of way. And, if their side should lose, it’s not their fault as they themselves weren’t playing. Whereas if your souffle doesn’t rise …. well, need I say more?

Maybe I should become a rabid supporter of women’s netball. Or go on a cookery course.

Nibbles ..... or not?

It has inspired me to make a donation to the Samaritans, though, who are a fantastic ray of light for anyone who feels at the edge of a precipice. Like all those others who have so far given more than £350,000 in Claire Squires’s name, I was touched by the thought that this poor young woman inadvertently, accidentally, gave her life for their cause. By all accounts she was a lovely person, who recently climbed Kilimanjaro for charity and was bubbly and outgoing – an inspiration in her life, if not in her untimely death.

I hope her family will get some comfort from the surge of warmth and generosity coming from the public, and from the knowledge that the charity she chose will now be able to do huge amounts in her name. I am sure most of us have felt desperation at one time or another. A friendly voice on the phone can make all the difference. Even if you’ve never used them, it’s surely comforting to know they are there and ready to listen. Perhaps the most horribly ironic twist of the Claire Squires story is that the Samaritans are now supporting her own family, as she supported them.