The Waitress

I used to write on another site, which has now closed down. I stored a load of the articles I had written there on here, and was having a look at some of them. I wrote a few short stories on there, which I probably need to tweak a little, but thought I would share them on here. I would welcome any feedback.

The Waitress

Mandy sighed as she changed the door sign over to closed. She sank down onto one of the chairs and sipped at her now-cold cup of coffee. She considered getting up and making herself a fresh one, but it just seemed like too much effort. She had had a hard day. One of the other waitresses had called in sick, and she had ended up staying on to do a double shift. 'I'm too old for this,' she thought kicking her shoes off.

When Mandy had moved to the city twenty years ago, she had taken on a waitressing job, thinking it would be a way to pay her bills until Mr Right came along. She had it all worked out. She would meet the very handsome and very rich Mr Right. They would marry, and she would never have to work again. She would have a couple of children, and would be a lady who lunches. She wanted to be like one of those celebrities she read about, having no worries other than fundraising for the latest fashionable charity and deciding which ball gown to wear.

Two years after moving to the city, Mandy had met someone who would do. He was nice enough, and Mandy enjoyed spending time with him. But he definitely wasn't rich. Mandy decided that, until Mr Right came along, Jim would do. A few months into their fling, Mandy discovered she was pregnant, and soon found out Jim's wife was too. She was furious. She didn't know whether she was angry that she was pregnant, angry that he was married or angry that she had fallen for him. She had bumped into Jim and his wife and new baby in the street when her little one was just four weeks old. It had taken all her willpower not to cry.

Mandy shook herself. She was starting to wallow in self pity. She might have lost the man she loved. But she had to be grateful for what she had. A beautiful daughter who was growing into an amazing young woman and a nice home. And an ever-expanding chain of up-market coffee shops. She might not have met the handsome man she had dreamed of, but she felt proud that she had still made it on her own. She poured her coffee down the sink and washed her mug. She had a charity ball to get ready for.

Raising Children

So, have you ever been drawn in to the spiral of YouTube videos? You start off watching one thing and then click on something else and something else and end up watching some truly bizarre stuff.

Earlier this week, I ended up on a video called 'Bringing Up Baby.' It was a channel 4 series from 2007 which followed six families for the first 12 weeks of their babies lives. It compared three different ways of bringing up baby. There was the 1950's method which was very strict with a rigid routine. There was the 1960's method of following your instincts and doing what is right for you and your baby. And then there was the 1970's method which was based on the traditional, tribal method where parents were in constant physical contact with the baby for the first six months.

Each method was followed by two families who were guided by 'mentors' who specialised in that method of baby care and was based on baby books of that era.

The 1950's method was based on the Truby King method. King recommended strict 4 hourly feeds day and night, plenty of fresh air (the babies were left outside in their prams, alone, between two of the daytime feeds) and minimal contact with the parents between feeds or nappy changes. Babies slept in their own room from the start and were easier to manage on formula than with breast feeding. Visitors were not only discouraged, they were banned from visiting for the first week or two. The nanny for this method was a woman called Claire Verity who described herself as a bitch. The two families were a couple in their 40s who were first time parents to twins and a family with an older child (of the mum) where the mum was a childminder and was keen to return to work.

The 1960s method was based on a book by Dr Spock. Spock believed that parents should follow their own natural instinct when raising a baby and that they would find the way which suited them. He wasn't prescriptive about anything and felt that the parents should be the ones to make all the choices. Babies could be bottle or formula fed, held as often as the parents chose, and slept in the bedroom next to the parent's bed. Visitors were welcome provided they were useful, such as helping out with the baby or cooking a meal etc. The priority was the baby and other responsibilities, such as housework, could wait. The nanny, and former children's nurse, was Dreena Hamilton. The families were both first time parents and one was a single mother.

The 1970s method was called the Continuum Concept and was based on a book by Jean Liedloff who had lived with, and studied, tribes living in the Amazon Rainforest. The children were kept with the parents for the first six months, they were carried everywhere, slept in the bed with the parents and were a part of day to day life. Visitors were encouraged. The nanny for this method was Claire Scott and the two families were first time parents.

The different methods were compared to each other, and the three nannies talked about a wide range of factors with each one. The main focus of the 1950s families and nanny was that the parents should be able to get their lives back. The main focus seemed to be on getting the babies to sleep through the night at any cost. At one point, when the twins wouldn't stop crying, Verity significantly reduced their one feed in order that they would take more milk at the next feed and thus sleep longer. Research has shown that babies have only tiny stomachs and therefore need only tiny amounts of milk initially, but require feeding frequently. The babies were also placed in their own room from the very first day when current guidelines are that babies should sleep in the same room as their parents, day and night, for the first six months. It seemed cruel to both the parents and the babies that the parents were not allowed to cuddle their babies freely (just 10 minutes after feeds) and were not allowed to make eye contact when feeding the babies. The mothers particularly were also distressed when they left the babies alone outside in their prams. Whilst physically that probably didn't do the babies any harm as it is done routinely in other, colder countries, it surely cannot be safe to leave a baby unattended outside, first due to the risk of abduction and secondly it is the whole sleeping away from their parents issue again. The child minder's baby was also started on baby rice or porridge very early. The programme only followed the families until 12 weeks of age, and she had been started on it by then. According to the current guidelines, weaning should not begin until six months of age due to the increased risk of allergies in children who have been weaned early.

The 1960s families didn't achieve the babies sleeping through the night (though the single mother was absent from the final episode), but didn't seem to put such high expectations on the family during the day. The single mother did change her baby over to hungry baby formula for night feeds, in order that the baby would sleep through the night, but Hamilton did advise against this as it wasn't in the baby's best interests. Hamilton did recommended weaning babies earlier than the current guidelines. She did follow current sleep guidelines to an extent in that the babies slept in the parent's room. During the day, this meant that they were sleeping away from their parents.

The 1970s families seemed to have the baby slot in to their lives naturally. Both breastfed, although the one mother struggled following an emergency caesarean section and her baby having to be bottle fed on the Special Care Baby Unit, although she persevered and was successful. This family seemed less in to the method in that they didn't constantly carry the baby and they did put him in the bouncer. They had slightly less success, it would appear, with this method than the second family. The second family slept well from the first night, seemed to find breastfeeding a breeze, and appeared to follow the method to the letter. The baby went everywhere with them and was always being held by someone. This method promoted only breast feeding but the sleeping practices are not in line with the guidelines which do not recommend bed sharing. It does state in the guidelines particularly if parents smoke, drink or have taken drugs. Verity and Hamilton seemed to believe that such guidelines were too difficult for parents to follow.

My gut tells me that the Continuum Concept would be the route I would want to go. The idea of raising my baby the way we have been doing for millions of years, appeals to me. I am all for natural parenting (and am even interested in the idea of elimination communication, which I have briefly written about previously here) and fully intend to solely breast feed for six months. However, as a likely single mother, I am not sure how practical such methods would be. I plan on having IVF and having two embryos implanted, so I couldn't imagine doing this with two babies if I were to be that successful. I suppose, when the time comes, I will have to make the decision on what is right for me and my family.

Please let me know what you think of the series.

The Unfinsihed Symphony of You and Me by Lucy Robinson

Plot

The Unfinished Symphony of You and Me is about an opera singer, Sally, and her journey from singing only hidden in her wardrobe to attending opera school and singing in major opera houses. Sally and her cousin, Fiona a ballet dancer, are best of friends and live together in a flat in London. Sally has low confidence and works in the wardrobe department of the theatre. She accompanies Fiona, Barry from Barry Island (also a ballet dancer) and Bea, a wealthy Italian who works in the costume department, to America for a season of ballet performances. After the ballet season is over, they decide to stay on in the USA and return to New York to work in the theatre there. Sally meets and falls in love with a half American, half British man names Julian. That summer changes all of their lives forever.

A year later, Sally is not talking to her family. Barry has taken over Fiona's room in Sally's flat, and there is no mention of Bea. And most of all, Sally is due to start at the opera school. She desperately wans to cancel; she knows her parents won't approve of Sally doing something to draw attention to herself. Despite meeting the mad and crazy Jan Borsos on her first day, and her new best friend, Helen, Sally s still not sure that she deserves a place at such a prestigious opera school and is desperate to leave.

Review

I bought this book on a whim, probably because it was on offer. I had never heard of the author before and opera is not something I either know about or have an interest in. In all honesty, the cover is a typical chick-lit drawing but of a woman in a bath, which has absolutely nothing to do with the storyline whatsoever.

I read the book within a couple of days. The story develops quickly. It flips back and to between London and New York which explains why Sally has suddenly changed her mind and is now attending an opera school when she previously would only sing in her wardrobe. I would have enjoyed a slightly longer conclusion to the novel, though. But, on the whole, an excellent book.

Facebook Stalking

OK, OK, I'll admit it. I sometimes Facebook stalk my exes. But doesn't everyone?! Besides, I'm friends with a couple of them on Facebook anyway.

One of the ones I'm not friends with is the one that, when I was 18 years old, I though was the one. If I'm honest, I kind of still think that now. I think I might have loved him back when I was 18 and I could certainly see a future for us back then. He is the one that, if he turned up on my doorstep tonight, I would welcome in with open arms. He is the lad who got me pregnant when we were 18. I have always wondered would have happened if I hadn't have miscarried.

But all that was a long time ago - I'm nearly 30 now!

Anyway, when we were younger, he was never the settling down type. He didn't want marriage and kids and all that. He wanted fun and adventure and to travel. And his job allows him to do that. We have mutual friends on Facebook and he popped up in the comments of a mutual friends post. So like any sane ex, I thought I would have a nosey. Turns out this lad who never wanted to settle down has just bought a house with his girlfriend. I mean, it's a normal thing for any nearly 30 year old to do but it really saddened me, which is pathetic. I haven't even seen him for years. I haven't spoken to him since I was about 21. He lives, well I don't know where, but no where around here. Don't you think it would have been so much easier back before Facebook when guys from your past would be just that - that past?

On a slightly more upbeat note, the latest guy I really fancy is, I have just learnt, now officially single. Interesting...

Seriously, period leave?

OK, so I might be a few weeks behind here, but I only came across this when an advert popped up on my Facebook timeline, and I looked in to it further.

There is one company in Bristol which is apparently offering period leave. Seriously? As if it hasn't been difficult enough for women to make steps towards workplace equality (and let's be honest, we're not there yet). If I had a business, I would be so reluctant to employ women who may take up to a week of every single month.

There are a number of comments on the article, one of which says period pain is not an illness and therefore, women off work because of it shouldn't be marked as off sick. I agree that there can be some cramping or pain with periods (I have to admit, I have never experienced period pain), but if it is getting to a point where a woman can't function day to day, then that is not normal.

I have heavy periods. They are horrible. As a ward nurse, I worked long hours and I never once called in sick because I was on my period. There was, and is, no option for me to slack off when menstruating. To do so would put my patients at risk. The only time I have ever called in sick was when I was a student nurse and I was miscarrying. I took two days off, had the weekend off anyway and was back in on the Monday morning, still bleeding but still at work.

All my colleagues are female. How would that work in practice? We would constantly be staff members down. And what about the idea that women who spend a lot of time together synchronise their periods. I've not personally checked, but what if that meant all the women at work who weren't post-menopausal were off work together? Should we just close the department for a week?

The woman who came up with this idea may have wanted to be seen as caring for her employees. However, she may just have damaged women's equality at work even further.

Growing up!

I'm fast approaching a dreaded birthday. When I was younger, I could never imagine myself as a 30 year old woman and now, it is getting closer.

It feels as though I have grown up considerably, even in the last few years. I used to go to bed late every night when I wasn't working the next day. I would go to bed regularly at 2 or 3 am and sleep until 10 or 11. I can't do that now! Going to bed after midnight is a late night (though I'm still perfectly capable of doing it, it just seems like a pointless exercise unless I've gone out), and I rarely sleep late. I woke this morning at 6am! 6am on a Sunday morning! My alarm didn't go, and I didn't need a wee, my body just decided it wanted to wake. I managed to persuade it to go back to sleep but still I woke an hour later.

It's a beautiful day and I have plans, so I'm not too disappointed. I'm going to enjoy the beautiful April sunshine.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

I feel as though I have spent my whole life waiting.

I've been thinking about having a baby for, oh, about 8 years. Eight years! That is just crazy! And I never seem to get anywhere close.

My job situation may be changing soon (for the better!) and that will be good - I'll definitely get maternity leave there. My family life is improving. And I feel as though I'm taking steps to improve myself.

Who knows, hopefully and at some point, there will be an end to this waiting and I may actually get what I have been waiting for all these years!

I'm sick :(

I don't do being sick at all (and that is one of the things I am dreading about getting pregnant) - being sick makes me more sick.

I've just been sick on the drive home from my mum's tonight. I pulled in at a layby but didn't really want to get out of the car - it's pitch black on that road. I had a few deep breaths, felt better, and drove off. And then I was sick. It went all down my jeans and my t-shirt and over the steering wheel. I accidentally touched it on the way home. It made me want to be sick again.

Getting my t-shirt off was the worst.

I've cleaned the car now and hope the odour goes by the time I have to go anywhere. I've left the window open a little to let things air.

Now I'm sitting in bed, trying to convince myself I don't want to be sick again, and feeling sorry for myself.

The gym

I'm contemplating joining a gym.

It's something I have considered on and off for some time now but I have never really found one I like. Apparently, we have one at the hospital, but I've worked there for 7 years and I still don't know where it is!

Anyway, the one I have found is less the £15 per month, is in the same town as the hospital I work in and has parking, which means I could go after work. When I was a kid, I used to laugh at the people going to the gym by car. It seemed to defeat the whole purpose of going to the gym. However, we walked everywhere as kids. we didn't have a car until I passed my driving test, and I remember walking to college three times one day, and home twice (once was for my driving lesson - I asked him to finish the lesson at home), and thinking nothing of it - college was 2 miles from where we lived. However, now the nearest gym to me, the nearest tow even, is 10 miles away, so there is no way I would walk there.

Anyway, pay day is after Easter - I need to buy a sports bra and some trainers and then I will join. I'm actually really excited about it - the last time I went to the gym was when I was in school, so about 13 years ago!

Born in the wrong era?

Does anyone ever feel they were born in the wrong era?

I love the freedom I have as a woman in the 21st century, of course I do - I couldn't exactly be considering having a baby on my own 50 years ago, could I?!

But there are so many things that we have wrong in the 2010s, things which previously, even within my adult life, we never had. I miss the formality of business communication. I just found a letter in my handbag (hence the rambling) from the occupational health department at the hospital I work at - nothing exciting, just a routine health surveillance questionnaire - 'Dear Kaitlyn...'.

'Dear Kaitlyn' indeed. Letters, particularly those of a business nature or which start with a dear and end with yours sincerely, should always start 'Dear Miss Edwards.' I know that is old fashioned, but it really, really drives me crazy. I receive letters from the bank, from my mobile phone provider and from my car insurance company addressed 'Dear Kaitlyn.'

On the phone, I also find it rude when they call me Kaitlyn. I phoned my mobile phone provider (Orange) about a year ago to complain as they had made a mistake a few times with my bill. The man I spoke to kept calling me Kaitlyn. He never asked if that was OK, or how I would like to be addressed. I mean, I was phoning to complain, you would have thought that he would be wanting to do everything in his power to sweet-talk me. But no. On the other hand, I phoned British Gas recently, and the man I spoke to there asked me if it was OK to call me Kaitlyn, and I said of course it was.

Everybody seems so egotistical nowadays, too. Perhaps that is the fault of social media, encouraging people to announce everything. Everybody seems to feel so entitled. I work in the NHS and everybody seems to think that they are the only person who matters. People turn up for their appointments and expect to be seen immediately, despite the fact that their letters say that the appointment could take up to two hours. The worst though are the patients who turn up early - and I mean very early - who expect to be seen when they arrive. The elderly, on the whole, seem much more patient. I don't know whether this is simply because they have learnt to be more patient, they have more time (generally not having to dash off to work or for the school run) or whether they were taught as children to be patient.

People now have no real need to leave the house if they do not wish to. I remember my mum having to go to the post office when we were children to collect her family allowance. Nowadays, it is paid directly in to the bank accounts. If we wanted to go shopping, we had to physically go to the supermarket. Now, it can be done on-line. I remember having to go in to an estate agents to look at houses, a travel agents to book a coach trip, or later a holiday, or the library to get information. Even between finishing my first degree in 2009 and starting my second in 2012, information was available in new ways. I could quite easily have done my second degree without ever stepping foot in the university library. I could have hid away at home to study, using e-books and e-journals rather than physical, paper copies.

One of my best friends was definitely born in the wrong era. She and her fiancé love playing the piano, learning languages and playing board games. I could imagine her living quite happily in an era with ball gowns and servants. And I, too, would be more than happy there.

Book Review - Shopaholic to the Rescue

This book picks up immediately where Shopaholic to the Stars left off. Becky and Luke had moved to the US where she had just failed at dressing celebrities. Becky's dad and Tarquin, her best friend's husband, along with Brandon (an employee of Alicia Bitch Long Legs, someone Becky hates but who now seems to be the best friend of her best friend, Suze) have headed off across America and no-one knows where they have gone or why. So basically, everyone who has ever been in any of the books heads off across America to rescue.

I'm probably really bias - I love all of Sophie Kinsella's books. I think she is an amazing author. And this was no exception. The book is funny, fast-paced and I cannot wait for the next instalment!

European Union - in or out?

I have just been reading this article by the BBC, and was horrified by some of the facts and figures contained within it.

I have never been a fan of the European Union. I remember, when I was in school, feeling disappointed that I would never get to go to France and pay with francs. Since then there has been more and more which has disappointed me about the EU.

The EU is expensive to the UK, costing an estimated £8.5 billion in 2015. The cost fluctuates yearly, with 2009 costing £4.3 billion and estimates for 2016-2020 ranging from £7.9 billion to £11.1 billion. And that is the cost to the UK after receiving a rebate and money from the Agricultural Guarantee Fund. When other publicly funded services are experiencing a reduction in the money they receive, how is it fair that UK's contribution to the EU doubled between 2009 and 2015?

The UK cannot set its own VAT bracket for products means that the EU is dictating to Britain how internal issues should be managed. Britain is unable to change the category in to which items fall. In the recently publicised 'Tampon Tax' it was highlighted that the "VAT rate charged on the items is the lowest allowed under EU law" and "The UK does not have the ability to extend unilaterally zero rating to new products," despite the fact that a whole host of other items, including exotic meat, flapjacks and aircraft maintenance are all VAT-free. Why should the EU have a say on VAT categories and prevent the UK government from charging VAT as needed by the UK population.

The running of the UK should be left to the UK, not to someone sitting in Brussels. It is for this reason, regardless of David Cameron's negotiations, that I shall be placing my vote to leave the EU when we have the referendum.

A quick catch-up

So, once again, I have been probably the world's worst blogger. I haven't posted anything since last May! That is terrible! I have just read through my last post. Wow - I had not had a good day at work. I remember that day vividly but I did not realise that it was that long ago. It seems as though it was just before Christmas.

I've had a busy eight months since the last time I was here. We'll get the boring stuff out of the way first - work has been manic since Christmas. The NHS isn't having a good time of it at the moment. In the last few weeks we have had a sudden influx of A&E patients, and, although I work in scheduled care, we have still felt the impact of this. Some admissions and operations have been cancelled and sometimes that has meant that we have had to see patients again in our clinic thus increasing our workload. Fortunately, we weren't too badly hit by the junior doctor's strike, and hopefully, the strike announced today won't have too much of an impact on us. Having said that, I completely understand why they are striking. I just hope, with the talk last year of the NHS not paying staff on Agenda for Change contracts (and that is almost everyone who isn't on the medical or dental pay scale) an unsociable hours rate, that the doctors will be just as supportive of us as my nurse and midwife friends have been of them.

Life outside of work has been pretty hectic, too. We have a new addition to the family - a brand new little cousin. He is absolutely adorable and we all love him to bits. My phone contains mostly photos of this gorgeous little man.

I seemed to spend a lot of time away last year. I had a couple of weeks away on holiday over the summer, which was a great break. And I've had a number of weekends away too, which made a lovely change.

Unfortunately, with the hectic year I had in 2015, there was no time to even look at starting IVF. This year, I am hoping to make a big dent in my credit cards and, possibly towards the end of the year, I will be in a suitable position to start IVF.

I have spent some time researching IVF. I would love to be able to work as a fertility nurse. Firstly, I find the whole speciality fascinating and at the cutting edge of healthcare. Secondly, I would at least have some inside knowledge on the whole process. It seems quite difficult to get a treatment plan. I know it depends on the response to the treatment, but I spent considerable time trying to find out the basics, like how long I would need to spend in Denmark. I have come up with my own version of what I think I will need to do, but I don't know if it is right. I think it would involve three trips to Denmark, two only lasting a day or two and the third lasting up to five days. I thought I might take the opportunity to travel whilst I am there, but I obviously can't make any plans at the moment.

I'm in two minds to tell my family about my decision about IVF. Particularly over the past couple of weeks, I have been quite ready to tell them. I have even considered asking my sister to come with me when I go to Denmark. So far, though, I've not yet built up the courage to do it.

I have taken up some new hobbies over the past couple of months. My mum has decided that she wanted to start knitting for her new nephew, so I was roped in to this and I'm actually quite enjoying myself. I've also been looking at plans for making a patchwork quilt. I would love to have a handmade special quilt for my future baby. I've even considered taking up sewing cloth pads and cloth nappies. Pads look fairly straight forward, but the only patterns I have as yet found for nappies seem so complicated. I've loved looking at all the different materials, though. There's such a selection, and they're beautiful.

Hopefully, it won't be so long until the next time...