Raving or Behaving at Forty Plus


The child like faces streamed past me and I wondered “what the hell am I doing”. I should have known better, I shouldn’t be here, my head raced and then, to make matters worse, the bouncer told the young girls in front “have your ID’s ready”.

I was nervous, this was something I did every weekend in my twenties, go to a club, dance all night and feel amazing doing it.

What if I couldn’t dance the night away any more?

What if I found it all too stressful and couldn’t enjoy myself?

What if I felt so very old that those young faces made me believe I should be home in bed with my cocoa at eleven o’clock?

We joked with the bouncer,

“Will you ask us for ID too?”

“If you want me to” he replied with a cheeky smile.

And there is the first of the many things that have changed. Now I am a forty something clubber, the bouncers are more friendly. They no longer seemed scary, more an older face in the crowd I could share a joke or frivolous comment with. Oh my goodness the bouncers are younger than me.

So here I am on a Saturday night out with the best of all friends, someone I shared many a long and exciting club night with in my twenties, clubbing again in our forties. My beautiful friend had bought tickets for, what was billed as a revival night, for our favourite club from our youth, as a birthday present for me.

I took a deep breath and entered the club (after a sniffer dog had declared us clean of anything untoward, another new one on me), the intense base beat of the dance music hit me like a wave of nostalgia and my anxieties were suddenly  disintegrated and now there was excited anticipation.

My friend and I dithered slightly about where would be the best place to dance, but after trying a couple of spots, we set ourselves up on the balcony overlooking the DJ. Difference number two, the DJ was in a small booth somewhere undistinguishable in my day, now they are centre stage, the star attraction. To confirm this shift in the world of clubbing, a young man later questioned,

“Who have you come to see?”

See? I never came out to SEE a DJ, I came to hear them.

My friend and I had booked a hotel room for the night so we didn’t have to travel back to our suburban/rural lives after our night out. We shunned the need to dress to impress and be seen in a trendy bar before our night out. Instead we stocked up on gins in a tin, vodka and energy drinks which we sipped whilst lazily transforming ourselves from older ladies to attractive club land ladies.  I asked many slightly silly questions beforehand.

“How much money should we take?”

“Should I take a bag?”

“What about a coat?”

Back in the day, I’d have known what I wanted to do and not worried about what the person next to me was doing.

My friend had done this before quite recently, so calmly reassured me at every step, my goodness it was as if I was about embark on death deifying feat.

So once in the club, the music hit me and I just started dancing, immediately I lost all fear and absorbed every beat with confidence. The moves were still there,” I’m still good at this” I beamed (who knows I might have looked like I was having a fit but it felt good).

So we danced the night away and returned to our hotel room in the early hours. However there are still a couple of things that made it different as a forty something to being a nubile teenager.

  1. I took plasters with me, just in case my feet blistered and I used them, hello, mummy alert.
  2. I drank so much water I had to go to the toilet a lot. I made sure I went in plenty of time because a queue more than six deep might be a problem.
  3. On one of my toilet trips, the girl in the next cubical seemed in trouble. She was obviously splayed on the floor, as her hair tumbled from beneath the divide, into my cubical. I knocked and asked “are you ok?” My nurturing nature in full force. I asked “Do you have water?” She mumbled and I passed my full bottle of water through. She seemed grateful and asked if she could see my face. I kindly declined the offer to put my face on the toilet floor and offered her a waving hand instead. I then informed the toilet attendant about her predicament, a sensible mum in full force.
  4. I tried at one point to take a selfie picture of my friend and I enjoying ourselves. After six failed attempts I gave up. I’m sure I heard the youngster around us sniggering.
  5. The music wasn’t all good and my friend and I discussed writing disgruntled emails referring to the trade descriptions act.
  6. Once back in our hotel room we both removed all make up and showered before bed.

So there you have it, my big fun night out, a big bit of #takingcare. I’m going to link this post to #memorybox because it was so much fun and for me offered a night of complete rejuvenation that I will never forget. I will not be waiting another twenty years before I do that again.

#TakingCare100 – A Fresh Start


It’s a little late in January to being doing the New Year’s resolution post and to be honest I’ve been bitten on the bum by those before. Being keen to start afresh on the first of a new year, I have blogged about all my best intentions for the whole year, only to be totally off track within days. So that is not what this is.

I’ve been joining in with the #TakingCare100, a photo challenge started by some members of the online adoption community. Every day, for a hundred days we take a snapshot of the little or big things we are doing to take care of ourselves. So what this has made me do is ensure that I at least do one thing a day which feels like I’m treating myself with consideration or giving myself a little treat.

So far this has included, eating a healthy breakfast, going to the gym, drinking my tea from beautiful china, eating cake and running myself a deep, relaxing bath. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done some of these things previously; however it has changed my appreciations of those moments. I’ve celebrated those small things in my life that give me pleasure and I’ve tried to be present in the moments which are for me. Really it’s all part of mindfulness, which is something I’ve been trying to prescribe to increasingly and this project is just giving me a daily nudge in the right direction.

So this fresh start is more about affecting change for the long term, creating happiness in the every day. The aim is that even on the days when everything seems dark and hopeless; my mind will look for that one little ray of sunshine which will light my way back to a more contented and grateful view of my life.

I’ve linked my posts through my instagram account which you can find here.

And why not take a look at some of the other #takingcare100 pictures here.

The Open Nest Conference – #TakingCare

takingcareI’m probably the last to write a review on The Open Nest Conference, #TakingCare and it’s a little appalling as a trustee for the charity. However, besides all the not so great stuff going on for us at the moment around school, I’ve needed this time to reflect, absorb and process exactly what happened in The Royal York Hotel on October 18th .

I was nervous, not only because I was speaking and right at the end of the day too, but because this was a slight leap into the unknown. Although a fairly intermit and small event, it felt like this conference would be the platform by which the charity launched its intentions to the world of adoption. Amanda Boorman (founder of The Open Nest) had a very clear vision for the day, it was to be informative and real, raw content that would make those there, feel included and understood. However, it was also to feel like a day away from home, you were to feel as if The Open Nest were Taking Care of you.

Stepping into the beautiful oak panelled room, in which we were to spend the day, with the beautiful table settings and the striking striped “goody bags”, I immediately felt we were somewhere special, I felt special. I know these may be considered small niceties compared to the content of the day but this attention to detail is what immediately set this conference apart from any other I’ve attended.

The opening film, Severance, detailing Amanda and her daughter Jazz’s adoption journey, shown through extensive home video footage and a candid interview, delivered a less subtle message of intent. This uncensored, no holds barred representation of two peoples adoption story was a sympathetic hand, reaching out to all those struggling within their own story.  The film claimed everyone in that room, in some way, parents, prospective parents, adoptees and workers, everyone could relate to some aspect of what they saw.

As the day unfolded we all travelled to some of the darkest corners of our lives and were shown the power there is in sharing them. Al Coates did this magnificently through humour, crafted to show us that we all have misgivings in the most challenging of times.

Fran Proctor, through bravely sharing her own story, showed us the courage our own children reveal each day, in facing their own trauma. This for me had the greatest impact of the day.

I felt empowered by all the practical, sensible and well thought out advice that Sally Donovan delivered. Clear messages on how to take care of yourself,  I was especially keen on the” no need to do housework” point but  may have been taking care of myself in this way all my adult life. The notes on how to advocate for your child in school were again enormously helpful and I will be making use of them very soon. It crossed my mind that social workers could take a leaf out of Sally’s book, in times of budget cuts, encouraging adopters to take care and relaying how best to support your child doesn’t cost anything and is far more useful than playing the blame game.

Marie Louise from We are Family, delivered an inspirational model on running an adoption support group, the important factor seeming to be they were “groups for adopters run by adopters”. Again I wonder if LA’s could look at supporting this initiative, especially if their own groups, if they have them at all, are not well attended.

Finally, Vicki and I talked about how we had discovered the use of social media as a support tool and what we aimed to achieve for the online community through The Adoption Social. Phew, I was relieved once that was done.

Apart from all the incredible content the day provided there was the meeting of other real life people, people we often spill with and tell all sorts to, via our blogs and twitter. There is, to me, no doubt that the bringing together of people, was more than just the icing on the cake. Knowing when you meet someone you don’t have to explain the whys and hows of what’s going on in your life, that there is acceptance. For me living and breathing that acceptance and empathy for and with other human beings is the core of what the conference gave me.  In making those meaningful connections we truly learn how to Take Care.

I had a real desire, when walking back to my hotel room, to lie down in a dark space for a long time to just take in the enormity of the day. I felt overwhelmed by the sense of momentum the day had gathered, the empowering sense that our voice not only matters, but that it will also be heard.

Instead I donned a posh frock, reapplied my lippy and headed into the night to let my hair down with my new found friends.