Writing Workshop

The Day My World Changed

Posted by cafebebemama on Sep 9, 2010 in Blogger Love, Writing Workshop | 16 comments

image courtesy of www.virginmedia.com

There’s an anniversary coming up this Saturday. The 9th anniversary of the September 11 bombings. 9 years have gone by since the day that my world changed. I had lived 30.5 years never having had a polarising event happen. I remember it vividly. It’s one of those generational moments where you ask, “What were you doing when “X” happened?” Here’s what my day was like on September 11, 2001. 9/11 to most Americans.

I lived in Peoria, Illinois and was working at The Clubs at River City as a Gymnastics Director. I was getting ready for work at about 7:30am and had the television on as ever. I was watching the “Today Show” (the NBC morning breakfast show) and was drying my hair when I noticed something strange on the telly. They were showing the Twin Towers and everyone seemed very confused. I turned off the hairdryer and stood staring at the television, not quite understanding what was happening. There was smoke coming out of one of the towers. It was 7:45. They were trying to get more information. Everyone was a bit frantic but the presenters were trying to remain calm. They had determined that a plane had flown into the Tower but were trying to determine why. And then it was 8:00.

While watching the cameras trained on the Twin Towers, at 8:03am CST (9:03am EST) I watched as a second jet aeroplane curved around the Twin Towers and slammed into the second tower. That impact is what you see in the photo above. I gasped and stood in horror. I didn’t know what to do…what to think. I didn’t know where I was meant to go but I went to work and tried to make sense of everything. I was teaching gymnastics to preschoolers that morning. We had a telly in the gym and I turned it on and in between setting up the obstacle course for the children, I kept one eye trained on the telly. It felt wrong doing anything normal while such a horrific incident was on-going but I didn’t know what else I was meant to do. There were some parents and children who turned up but we didn’t do much in terms of gymnastics that morning.

We learned that at 8:37am (CST), a third plane flew into the Pentagon in Washington D.C. and at 9:03am a fourth plane crashed into a field in the state of Pennsylvania. I was watching our rubbish telly in the gymnastics centre as the Towers crumbled to the ground. I was hearing phone calls being broadcast on the morning shows. I was hearing messages from people in the Twin Towers who were saying goodbye to their friends and loved ones. It was shocking. How could this be happening in our country?

One of the strangest things about that day in September was that the entire of the US airspace was closed down. Not one single plane was allowed to fly after those four planes radically changed the lives of so many. Well, there was one plane allowed to fly. Air Force One, the President’s plane, was in the air and it passed right over us in the heartland of Illinois. After that, silence. Eerily silent.

That day we all were glued to our television sets. We were watching the crashes over and over; watching the residents of New York running in fear, covered in dust; watching the fire fighters walking into certain death. Thankfully, we weren’t allowed to see the people who jumped from the Towers. For once, the media showed restraint with that aspect of the news. I’ve never watched so much television in my life. There were no television shows on for at least a week after September 11th. News, news and more news. Horrible stories and none of them happy.

About the only bright spark was the story that emerged from the flight which crashed in the fields of Pennsylvania. The passengers of United Airlines Flight 93 knew they were being hijacked and they wouldn’t go down without a fight. There are audio recordings from phone conversations from passengers to their family members. They banded together, some of those passengers, and stormed the cockpit. The bravery of those passengers is why that plane landed in a field in Pennsylvania. It was thought that UA Flight 93 was destined for the US Capitol (where Congress meets) or the White House. It never hit its target thanks to those people. Those individuals changed history.

After several days of depressing stories and constant news, I turned off the telly, went into my garden and just sat and looked up at the sky. Everyone in America was dusting off their flags and showing their support of the country. I even managed to put up a flag. It seemed the least that I could do.

No one could have imagined how our lives would change from that point on. Flying and airport security was never the same or as simple. Terrorism became the greatest fear and for a time, George W. Bush was a good man! I will never forget the events of September 11, 2001. It became the day my world changed forever. On September 11, take a moment to remember the thousands of men and women who died in a senseless attack on America. And be forever grateful for the family you have and the lives that you lead. I know I am.

This post was written in support of Josie’s Writing Workshop at Sleep is for the Weak. Her theme this week is CHANGE which stems from her very brave journey to Bangladesh with two other amazing mummy bloggers and Save the Children. You can make a difference and PRESS FOR CHANGE to make the lives of mothers and babies in need.

Meant to Be

Posted by cafebebemama on Jul 30, 2010 in Blogger Love, Writing Workshop | 6 comments

Ouistreham, Normandy, France

There are some things in life that are meant to be. I believe that I was meant to be with my husband. We found each other across an ocean thanks to lovely, yet bizarre circumstances. We had chatted on the phone for a few months before we met for the first time at Luton Airport. We had an amazing weekend in Paris a couple of weeks later and then the following week I made my first crossing on Brittany Ferries from Ouistreham to Portsmouth to spend another weekend with Mark. In total I ended up making 6 return crossings from Ouistreham to Portsmouth from February to May…all worth it, most definitely.

For those of you who don’t know, I was studying French at the University of Caen in Normandy in the winter & spring of 2005. Thursday February 24, 2005 was the night I was to make my first crossing of the English Channel. I was quite excited as I had never been on a ferry before. I made my travel arrangements online and booked my ticket for an overnight crossing leaving at 11:30pm on Thursday night. I would spend the weekend in England and then return back to France on the Sunday night for another overnight crossing to arrive back in Caen on Monday morning before my first class of the day.

The week leading up to that Thursday had been unseasonably cold and wintery in Caen. Well, in all of France for that matter. And as with most countries that aren’t used to cold and SNOW, the change in the weather virtually paralysed the country. I laugh at this as I’m from the state of Wisconsin where temperatures of 40 degrees below zero (Farenheit) and snow drifts of 5-6 feet aren’t uncommon in the winter months. But France was struggling.

Sometime in the late morning/early afternoon of that Thursday in February it started to snow. It was a wet, heavy snow with flakes as big as a 50p piece. On normal occasions I would have been thrilled to see such snow. I love snow. I was not so excited to see it falling heavily and accumulating on the ground at a rapid pace. My ferry was scheduled for 11:30pm. I was taking a shuttle bus from the centre of Caen at 8:00pm. I began to fear for my safe arrival.

Just to be safe, I decided to head down to the centre of time with plenty of time to spare so that I could, perhaps, take an earlier bus to Ouistreham, the port town. I enlisted my good friend Sarah to help me and keep me company. We headed down in the late afternoon to take the tram downtown. We were trudging through the wet, sloppy snow, dragging my hot pink suitcase through the slush and getting wetter and wetter ourselves as the snow continued to fall. We waited at the tram stop on the University campus. And we waited. Finally, an electronic message appeared on the board above our heads…NO SERVICE. Damn.

We decided to walk downtown. Through piles of slushy, wet snow. Through muddy brown puddles. We were soaked through. I didn’t have boots or an umbrella nor did Sarah. We were laughing though. How ridiculous we looked! We arrived in the downtown area looking like drowned rats. There were a few cars around and some lights on in the shops and restaurants around but downtown Caen was looking fairly deserted. My heart started to flutter…was I going to make it to Ouistreham? Surely the bus would still run?

We found a restaurant that dared to open. “La Crepuscule”…a crepe restaurant. They opened their plastic raincover doors for us and we were enveloped by warmth and light. The amount of water that came off of us and my luggage was massive. We tried to wipe it up with little success. We ordered glorious crepes and sat at a table with a view on the square to watch for any signs of transportation. The outlook was decidedly grim. I enquired with the waitress and chef about the possibility of bus service to Ouistreham. They said it was unlikely. I started to falter. I HAD to make it to Ouistreham! I had to make it to the ferry!

As Sarah and I were lamenting and wondering, the waitress, Annabelle, came over to us. It turned out that she lived in Ouistreham and her boyfriend was coming to pick her up to take her back to Ouistreham that evening. She said that they could take me to the ferry! Sacre bleu! An angel in the form of a French waitress called Annabelle. The chef, hearing my plight and romantic story told the waitress to go early and soon the night in shinning armour known as her boyfriend turned up to drive us to Ouistreham. Sarah hugged me goodbye and trudged back through the snow to campus. I set off with two French people that I didn’t know to hopefully arrive at the ferry terminal in time to board my ferry.

The journey from Caen to Ouistreham normally takes about 30 minutes. On this night it took about 45 minutes but thankfully we arrived at the port terminal around 10:30pm with time to spare. I tried to give my saviours money for their troubles but they wouldn’t take it. They were just happy to help. I sloshed into the Ouistreham Port terminal and checked in for my first ferry crossing. As the ferry pulled away from the terminal with me on it, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I used my mobile phone to ring Mark and tell him that I had made it. He would collect me early the next morning in Portsmouth. We were both ecstatic.

Thanks to the kindness of total strangers, a weekend that would have ended up a miserable disappointment ended up being the first weekend that Mark and I said “I Love You”! All’s well that end’s well. Think about it…what were the chances that I would end up in a restaurant with a waitress who lived in the very town I needed to get to? I’m guessing slim, to none! So, you see…our life was meant to be…no matter what the weather.

This post has been belatedly written in support of Josie’s Writing Workshop at Sleep is for the Weak.

Embarquement to a new life!

Happily Ever After

Posted by cafebebemama on Jun 30, 2010 in Blogger Love, Gallery, Writing Workshop | 16 comments

In March of 2006 I became a wife to the love of my life.  We found each other across the ocean and began our happily ever after in an amazing ceremony attended by friends and family.  The American contingency was well represented and as is American tradition, we held a “rehearsal dinner” after the rehearsal for the wedding on the night before the wedding.  The Reverend marrying us had never seen so many people attend a rehearsal!

To get the Americans and English to mingle properly before “the big day”, we had a brilliant Chinese dinner at a local hotel.  There was too much food and way too much wine.  I ended up in tears far too many times, mostly due to stress but courtesy of some amazing friends, family and memories.  My Dad and Mom presented everyone in attendance with Mardi Gras beads in the colours of our favourite American Football team, the Green Bay Packers.  My husband-to-be, however, got a Harley-Davidson set of beads.  I found this particularly amusing, as is evident by the picture above.

In the church photo session hubby decided to sweep me off my feet and show me just how much he loved me…I love these moments.  They’re a bit fewer and far between now but he’s always brilliant at sweeping me off my feet.

In the moments that followed after we left the church as husband and wife on that cold, crisp day in March, hubby and I looked at each other and said, “WE DID IT!”  It was a blissful moment that was OURS and OURS alone.  Who would have imagined that a girl from the midwest of the United States could find the love of her life in an Englishman 4000 miles away?  We did do it and we are living our happily ever after with our amazing daughter.  Bliss…

Thank you Tara and Josie for another brilliant Gallery/Writing Workshop prompt…this week- EMOTION!

Pushchairs from the Ridiculous to the Sublime

Posted by cafebebemama on Apr 29, 2010 in Blogger Love, Writing Workshop | 31 comments

As many of you know, I am the pushchair queen.  It’s true…I have the tiara to prove it!  I stumbled into writing reviews for MadeForMums website and somehow, although quite happily, ended up being a Pushchair reviewer.  I adore pushchairs.  They are gorgeous and fun and quirky and delightful…oh…I forgot where I was for a minute…  Anyway, I have had the pleasure of OWNING 2 pushchairs.  I have had the immense pleasure of receiving, trialing, testing and reviewing more than 20 pushchairs.  I currently have 7 pushchairs in my possession.  It’s a bit ridiculous, really.

However, in my status as Pushchair Queen, I have learned a LOT (well, far too much really) about what works and what doesn’t work on a pushchair.  I have to say that I am a bit of a snob with regards to “umbrella strollers”.  I see the £20 strollers that fill the high street and are nothing more than a lurid piece of canvas loosely stretched between a pingy aluminium frame.  I see the toddlers scrunched and squished in said strollers looking as miserable as a miserable thing could ever be as the sun beats down on their little heads.  Now, I know, budget is an issue for so many families but trust me, there are pushchairs/strollers out there for under £100 which will at least carry your child better and safer and will actually function for you.

That being said, I have found that a majority of pushchair designs are VERY ridiculous.  Two features spring to mind:  the canopy/hood and the shopping basket.  Far too many pushchairs have included a canopy/hood for looks and coordination and nothing more.  The only chance that your child will be protected/shielded from the sun is if the sun is either directly above you or behind you.  I believe that the pushchair designers (they have to be men…no mother would design that!) think that they need to include a canopy but are loathe to use too much fabric as it would surely cost too much thus cutting into their profit.  The canopy design leads to mothers either using items of clothing or muslin cloths to drape over the edge of the canopy so their child is shielded from the sun.  It also leads to sublimely genius products like the Snoozeshade…designed by a MUM of course!

The other feature that DOES MY HEAD IN is the shopping basket.  So many pushchairs, particularly the ones that are “lightweight”, are completely USELESS!  Again, said pushchair designer has moved on from the postage stamp sized canopy and decided that with a scrap of mesh the size of a handkerchief, a shopping basket can be attached which allows them to say “shopping basket included” in the product description.  Never mind that you could only manage to fit a non-folded newspaper in it on the best of days…it’s a shopping basket!  Get REAL pushchair designers!  You make a “lightweight” pushchair with an incy-wincy shopping basket and then tell us that we shouldn’t hang anything off of the handles.  How do you expect us to go out and do anything??  Most parents flout this rule entirely and hang the equivalent of a £200 grocery shop off the handles thus turning their “lightweight” pushchair into a “heavyweight” accident waiting to happen.  I’m surprised that UK Healthy & Safety hasn’t swanned in on that one!  Whoops…there goes my child, flipping backwards in the pushchair!  Oh dear!

I was going to show some of the worst offenders…but I don’t like to look a gift horse in the mouth or offend any companies to the point where they boycott me.  If you’d like to know my “name and shame” list of the worst pushchair offenders, please comment below and I’ll clue you in on what NOT to buy!  The list is growing…

I will, however, share with you two companies who have sussed out how to make a genius pushchair:

Baby Jogger City Mini

The Baby Jogger City Mini was our 2nd pushchair and still enjoys pride of place in Hubby’s boot.  The reason I chose it was for the canopy/hood.  Have a look…it’s brilliant!  It comes down quite far yet not so far as to block Little Miss’ vision of the world.  The hood also has 2 viewing windows which can be kept covered by a canvas/velcro piece or left uncovered to allow a bit of light in.  You can check on your child quickly and easily and still keep them covered and protected.  Genius!  The shopping basket is actually quite effective as well.  It’s not giant but you can get a fair bit into it and better still, can access it very easily.  You can get at least 10 newspapers in it and you could even be so bold as to fold them!    We love our Baby Jogger City Mini…we’ll always love you but…

Our heart has been stolen by another…the Stokke Xplory…the pushchair to end all pushchairs.  I promised I wouldn’t go on and on about it so I will simply say that the design is sublime, it functions brilliantly on all terrains, it allows your child to see the world from a suitable vantage point and allows you to keep them in parent facing mode forever, if you like.  It has a shopping BAG which expands to fit a TONNE of stuff and all the while is exceptionally stylish and funky…sigh…

Stokke Xplory

I’ve given you pushchairs…from the ridiculous to the sublime in support of Josie’s Writing Workshop where I have chosen writing prompt #3- Write about a gadget, object or invention which I find completely useless and impractical which was inspired by Tiddlyompompom’s post Sample Pot which I wholeheartedly agree with!  If any pushchair designers would like to hire me as a research and development consultant, I’ll happily give you my hourly rate…please comment below and I’ll get right back to you.

The Best Laid Plans

Posted by cafebebemama on Mar 29, 2010 in Motherhood, Writing Workshop | 12 comments

I didn't mean for this to happen!

I have found, thanks to my over-active imagination, that the best laid plans often go awry.  This stems from a compulsion to create the best events possible and to have the most amazing things happen.  My dad used to make every holiday, no matter how small, special.  I remember for my mom’s birthday for many years he used to make cards and pretend that they were from some of my mom’s favourite celebrities or current event figures.  He wanted to make her special day SPECIAL.

More recently I’ve had a number of things happen where I anticipated something brilliant happening and I ended up more than a little disappointed.  But I never say anything, do I?  May I please vent now?

• Anniversary- Hubby and I have taken to NOT buying each other anything significant for our anniversary as we just don’t have the money.  I would settle for flowers and a card.  And a kiss.  And remembering to say “Happy Anniversary” when I wake up.  I got a card.  I gave a card.
• Mother’s Day- I had grand ideas that I might get flowers, breakfast in bed, a nice day out.  I got a card and a bottle of Bailey’s (good times!), no flowers and made everyone’s breakfast myself.
• The Baby Show, ExCel Arena- I had more grand ideas.  I was going to do live blogging, live tweeting and maybe even live vlogging!  I was going to visit lots of cool stalls and find some brilliant new products to promote.  I was going to create a scintilating video of the event which everyone would love & PR’s/Companies would be so impressed with that they would flock to me.  As there was NO WI-FI, I could do virtually none of the above.  I did manage to live tweet a bit thanks to a friend’s 3G Mobile phone (could I have one of those? no!).  But that was it.  There were so many bodies and such little space that I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.  3 hours flew by and I had to leave.  All plans of brilliance and a bit of technological genius were left on the floor of the ExCel centre.  Pahhh.

I find that I build up these special events and occasions so much that I almost always end up disappointed.  I want everything to work and for others to feel special and it rarely happens.  My over-active imagination creates these visions in my mind of what those days should be like and how happy everyone would be.  I find this in all aspects of my life- my relationship with hubby, my daughter, my house, my blog, my writing.

My writing!  Could I pick a worse profession to want to be successful in?  There are thousands of blogs, millions of posts, tonnes of articles submitted every day.  To get noticed is difficult.  Rejection is inevitable.  I should have a tougher skin.  But I don’t.  I take it personally and feel like I’ve failed.  I see others around me achieving success and I wonder why not me?  Perhaps it’s hormonal…maybe I’m just subject to days where I feel a bit inadequate.  Today must be one of those days.

Do I need to LOWER MY EXPECTATIONS?  Do I need to stop worrying about what other people think?  Do I need to just do what I can and be happy with the result?  Do I need to stop waiting for others to live up to my hopes and dreams?  Maybe I wouldn’t be disappointed.  Maybe I would just be happy with whatever comes.

This post is written in support of Josie’s Sleep is for the Weak Writing Workshop for writing prompts #2 and #4- what eagerly anticipated experience turned out to be a complete & utter let down and share a time when you felt a deep sense of rejection.

Tug of War

Posted by cafebebemama on Mar 4, 2010 in Motherhood, Writing Workshop | 14 comments

Battling my demons

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me.  I wonder why I write.  I wonder who’s reading what I write.  I wonder why I don’t get the comments I think I should.  I wonder why, despite the hours of time promoting it, my blog isn’t doing better.  I wonder why the pitches I write seem to go unnoticed.  I wonder why the suggestions I make are ignored.  I wonder why I can’t made myself be heard.

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me.  I used to be sexy and confident.  I used to weigh far less.  I used to have a twinkle in my eye.  I want to be those things again but I’m not sure I know how any longer.  Do I hide behind the new me because I don’t want to work that hard?

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me.  I want to be the best mum my daughter deserves.  I want to be a good cook and go the extra mile.  I want to entertain my daughter and be everything she needs.  But…I can’t seem to find the mojo to cook like Nigella or Delia.  I can’t seem to find the skill to be crafty like Mr. Maker.  I can’t seem to let my daughter just be…I’m forever meddling…am I doing the right things?  I’d like to think so but I fear I’m not.

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me.  I want to be a friend.  I want to have friends.  I want my daughter to have friends.  But I can’t seem to get myself out there to do it.  Is it the comfort of home?  I make excuses and wish for something different but if I don’t make it happen, who will?

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me.  I’m a good wife, I think.  But I could be better.  I could have our house gleaming from top to toe.  I could have fresh bread baking in the oven and a gorgeous meal waiting on the stove.  I could sew and knit; I could craft and bake.  I could dress better and prettier and take more care with my appearance.  What is stopping me?  Is that REALLY me?

There’s a tug of war going on inside of me…who’s going to win?  Who’s going to jump behind me on my side and help me do it?  Maybe I just need to rely on myself and dig in and pull…

(Written in support of the Writing Workshop at Sleep is for the Weak; prompt #2- Battling your Demons)