When did we become so disturbed that we have to know exactly how one person died? Why is he glorifying it for his own column inches?
Yesterday has been playing on my mind. Personally, it was a lovely day with friends and family that love me and treated me with kind words and presents. But in the bigger picture the day was horrendous.
Quentin Letts was on Jeremy Vine’s radio show this afternoon, describing the events he saw unfolding under his office in London. In great detail. My blood is boiling at this. When did we become so disturbed that we have to know exactly how one person died? Why is he glorifying it for his own column inches?
I know I started this blog to write about being a stepmum. But this is relevant. We want to protect our children from the big bad world. In a world with 24 hour news, constant news updates and graphic pictures/videos being posted on the internet it’s becoming harder.
I also draw on my own experiences. To have the press at your neighbours doors, letters from second rate magazines with smarmy “we’re sorry for your loss but would love to hear your story. Oh and we’ll give you money for the bother”. Seriously? Foxtrot Oscar.
That policeman had family and friends. They don’t need to hear the details of how he died sensationalised under big headlines by the press, so they can make their millions.
He is not tomorrows’ fish paper. His name was PC Keith Palmer. He died doing his job and his life will affect his family for many years to come. My thoughts are with them at this time.
The majority of mothers love this day. Spoilt rotten with breakfast in bed, cards and presents. I hate to say this, but I dread this day more than any other.
It’s said that everyone has a story someone else will read. I never believed that I would ever be writing about what I feel is my mundane, day to day life. But don’t they also say never say never?
Here comes the obligatory about me BS…I joined the military in the early Noughties and left last year. So it’s fair to say that I’ve been feeling a bit stir crazy sometimes now that I’m a SAHM (don’t you just hate that phrase???). But at the end of the day, this is the life I chose and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Anyway, I married my husband 3 years ago. At that time, we were dealing with a fair bit… I was expecting my first child; the girls had recently lost their mum to cancer; the eldest had left boarding school (she was sent there due to her dad’s deployments- don’t judge!) and the youngest came to live with her dad the afternoon before her mum passed away. So we were all kind of thrown in together all of a sudden. I’d known the girls for over a year but now we were all living together in a 3 bed house and getting used to each other’s bad habits.
Fast forward 3 years, we’ve just moved into our first rented accommodation after 3 military houses. The youngest has just turned 3, the eldest is in her second year at Uni and the middle is rapidly turning into a female version of Kevin The Teenager. And Mother’s day is this Sunday.
The majority of mothers love this day. Spoilt rotten with breakfast in bed, cards and presents. I hate to say this, but I dread this day more than any other. Not only have I lost my own Mam, but we also have the shadow of the girl’s mum hanging over us. So it’s very easy to be bloody miserable. I’d quite happily gloss over it and do something family orientated. Like go for a meal, or a day out. But even then, sat at a table receiving a complimentary bottle of wine “to the best mummy ever!” with your future step daughter does lead to a rather awkward feeling!
We’re learning to get through these days, and dark humour definitely helps. If not with the kids, definitely with my fantastically patient other half. The girls find twee Stepmum cards for the event, though Middle has promised me she’s going to make me her own card this year. And that to me is the best present ever. Knowing that, even when she hates me for taking her phone off of her for her attitude problem, she’s put in the time to make me something which I’ll keep for many years to come, having done the best that I can do.