Cheerleaders and change

Gee, girls, I have CHEERING SECTION!

As my kids at school would say...."How cool is that!". I have visions of cheerleaders and pompoms. Bear in mind I have never ever seen one, so my mind has you all lined up as I know you now, in your blog photos, as cheerleaders. Thank you very much for all your kind and complimentary comments. It is so nice you all have rose tinted specs, of course, but they did make me smile. At 1.30am when I got back from London. After falling asleep on the train. And that was after I fell asleep during the show, which was fantastic, by the way. It was just me proving that I am not a party girl any longer. Or that I should go into training to recover my stay-awake-when-you-go-out-in-the-evening options. And the theatre was very hot. So I snoozed now and then.

During the course of a conversation last night, I realised just why the haircut was taking on an importance way out of proportion to reality. It is quite simple, really. Every single aspect of my life has changed over the past 8 months. The only thing that remained the same every day was the face I saw in the mirror. Now that has changed too. This is not a woe is me thing. It is another observation. And I use that word - "observation" advisedly (more about that later).

What I do from the moment I wake up has changed. Where I work. Who I work with. Who I see. Who I phone. How often I phone. How I dress. What I do when I get home. What I do over the weekends. My responsibilities. My dreams. My focus. My church. My leisure time. My hobbies. My fears. My life. It is all different now. And, as I said, so too is the face I see in the mirror in the mornings.

My friends last night thought it looked great. That I looked smart and professional and "up to date". Younger. Maybe that is true, but inside I am so much older, if you know what I mean. I am not sure if I am inside what the outside is saying.

I listen to conversations my friends are having now, and I am detached. Observing, rather than taking part. I have not been to the things they talk about or been a part of them, because my life has changed. And I have always been in the middle of things till now. This is not about an identity crisis, it is about trying to find that balance. I am very lucky, and very blessed, and not miserable and depressed but the "me" who everyone knew is gone. And I am not all that comfortable in the new me shell yet. It will come, when I find that balance.

In a way, I just don't feel that I belong anywhere yet. I am still like a marble on the board, rolling around, until I fall into a slot somewhere and stay still. The amount of work I am having to do at school is mind-boggling, and there has been no support at all, so it is consuming most of my waking moments. I can't give anything less than my best. I am a teacher, and yet I am not. I am not a support worker and yet I am. Nothing is clear. And it won't become clear unless I push the boundaries until I find out.

I am doing everything in reverse, I suppose. Everyone I know is slowing down now, and I am going at warp speed. Somethings you don't get to choose.

SO..................... the hair cut thing is more than a hair cut. Maybe it just is the final symbol I needed to confirm that my life is changing all the time, and that you can never go back. It is gone, and this is who I am now. Gulp. The biggest test will come tomorrow when I walk into my class.

New hair 2

Never say I do not post about mind-stretching, fascinating subjects.

Hair.

How exciting is that. Well, I sort of curled the ends in a bit so I no longer look as though I have had a fright of epic proportions. Then, I took the new hair out for a test run. I am happy to say the babes recognised me. Their father looked and looked and I said..... I have had more cut off than I anticipated. He said "It will take some getting used to." WRONG answer. But then he is a man after all. As his wife, a sensible and kind friend (with taste) was not in, I went in search of another assessment. Louise opened the door and said...... "I like it." Her husband (after I yelled up the stairs that I needed his opinion on something) appeared and whispered to her "Is it the hair I must notice". 10 out of 10 for observation. He said it was very nice. Groan. Very nice. Hmmm. The jury is still out on this one. I did try to take a photo, but I look deformed when I take my OWN photo. My arms are not long enough and then the neck scrunches up and forget that too.

Oh well, nothing I can do about it. It can grow.

Right. It is warmer today and the sun is shining, and the snow is only expected tomorrow. The house is quiet and I should really be doing the grand clean, but I am not in the mood. I am off to London this evening, to see the Scottish Dance Theatre perform, with some friends. Liz's sister, Janet, is the director and they are absolutely amazing. I have seen them dance a few times before, so this is a real treat!

Tomorrow is Mothering Sunday here in England, and for the very first time in 30 years, I will wake to a house with not one of my children home for Mothers Day. David will be back by lunch time, I hasten to add, and no, I am not going into a decline at the thought at all, just making an observation! It will seem strange. The youth club organiser even sent a note apologising to all mothers for removing their children on Mothers Day. I will just expect my son to bring coffee on demand for the afternoon and evening. I am kind like that.


*Update*
Oh all right then..... here we are. Just ignore scrunched neck and multiple chins. That hair was BELOW my shoulder blades this time yesterday. I am still in shock. And that is not a perfectly arranged hairdo. It is the windswept look after going to get food from the shops in the village.

And you can still see the lump on and above my left eyebrow from the Incident with Door Frames. That is why the eyebrow is such an interesting shape. I am setting a new fashion trend. I have STYLE!

Hair gone

I had my hair cut.

You don't want to know about school and work and lesson plans and meetings and coursework and Red Nose day which means that every child assumes no rules apply and short tempers and exams looming for which I had to provide exam papers and revision plans and ........... forget it. It is Friday night and David is off at a Christian youth weekend, and I have the place to myself.

Did I mention that I had my hair cut? CUT. As in I could have stuffed a pillow with the stuff on the floor. What did you have in mind, she asked. Something different, I said, just not too short. I need to look more awake and not so tired. But I still want to be able to put it up.

Hah.

I have now got it up in the world's shortest ponytail. Because I always hate what I look like when I leave the hairdresser, and will have to do it myself tomorrow and hopefully it will look more like me, and not like some stranger in the mirror, I will NOT let you see it yet.

It feels weird. I am used to it feeling heavy, and now it is not, and I am a little insecure without it there. A new image? Too late to say I don't want to change, isn't it.

Work is taking over my house

My floor is covered with papers from lesson planning. There are no seats uncluttered. My brain is fried, and this is seriously hard work. Tori, a friend and fellow staff member from school came round this morning and we started on our year 10 syllabus, and by the time she left it was nearly 4, and I thought it was about 1. Sigh. And I still have the Years 7, 8 and 9 teaching schemes to do never mind the lesson plans. I might have been a trifle optimistic when I thought I could do the whole of the next half term now.

But, tomorrow is play day, I have declared. I am doing NO work. I am going out to play. Do not ask me what I will be doing but it will be frivolous and deeply un-meaningful. And it will involve coffee at a place other than home. And maybe a shop. Or 2.

I may even put a paperbag over my head and go and make a hair appointment. It is a year, after all, since the highlights were done. But the appointment will no doubt be for 3 months hence (nice word, that), given that good hairdressers are notoriously hard to find. I can live with that. It will be enough of a shock to make the appointment. And I can use the 3 months to save for the exorbitant amount of money they will no doubt charge me to restore my hair to some vaguely youthful look. I may even cut it this time. It is below my shoulderblades at the moment, and it has NEVER been this long. I wear it up most of the time, unless I want the Wild Woman from Borneo look. That is rare. Maybe now is the time for a complete change of image.

Right. I am now going to wade through all those papers and go and make more coffee and watch Criminal Minds. And look for chocolate.