What is 'Mum Guilt?'

I have none.

Zero guilt about anything I've done as a parent.

If I had my time over again I wouldn't do anything differently or would I?

Or would I just feel that I was under the scrutiny of social media and would I feel guilty for things because I'm told I should feel guilty more?

I didn't feel guilty as a parent if I didn't breast feed, or read enough, or went to the park more often or invested in a extra lessons or the house wasn't clean. I felt frustrated, felt there wasn't enough time in the time, but I didn't feel guilty.

I don't feel guilty for sending the youngest to boarding school. Many tried to make me feel bad for sending him away in an article we were in, in the Daily Mail. Apparently 'Boarding school is a rich persons "putting their kids into care"'
With our eldest child in care due to profound disabilities comments like this are highly offensive, they don't make me feel guilty though, just angered.

I don't feel guilty for not living in the same country as my children. Of the 5 now adult kids. They all  live their own lives, 3 absorbed in work and their new families, 1 moved to Australia and 1 travels the world through his job from his base in Northern Ireland.

I don't pester our adult children into spending time with me or each other, I allow them to make their own choices, they can't drop everything just because I'm over in the UK for a few weeks at a time. I don't make them feel guilty about it, they don't make me feel guilty about being 1000's of miles away.

We don't always like our family set up but it works for us and anyone who makes us feel guilty just isn't worth bothering with.

I can apply not feeling guilty to all aspects of my life. From not only being a mother, but a daughter and a wife.

I just don't conform to stereotypes. I don't measure my life against others. I have occasional envy of other people's lives, but I don't feel I'm missing out on anything if I'm totally honest.

I don't have expat guilt.
I'm not your typical expat. I see so many women aboard having their nails and hair done, following the latest fashions and attending the right events. I could do it if I wanted, it's just not my thing.

I don't have wife guilt.
I miss my husband when I'm in the UK and he misses me when I'm juggling my time with family and friends, leaving him alone with the cat and dog to look after. My husband reminds me that the life we lead has given us and the kids so many opportunities we might not have had if we'd stayed in the UK. we don't make one another feel guilty for the time we are apart.

I don't have daughter guilt.
Living 1000's of miles from my mother. I can do what I do for her from Dubai, when I'm over in the UK we do things together but not every second of the day. I don't feel guilty for spending time with friends, my mum doesn't make me feel guilty for not spending every spare minute with her.

I don't have friend guilt.
I see my friends a couple of times a year, I invest a lot of time in maintaining these friendships when I'm abroad. If I was still living here I wouldn't see as much of them, we'd be getting on with our lives, taking our proximity to one another for granted and weeks would pass us by. I don't feel guilty for living the life I do and they don't make me feel guilty about the opportunities my husbands job gives me/us, they enjoy listening to our stories of our lives abroad as much as I enjoy listening to their lives and what their children are achieving. I don't tell them they're missing out on life by choosing to do what they do either.

I just remind myself that there are many people who would like the life I have and I'm not to feel guilty about it.

I feel mum guilt/shaming is something that's internal to a lot of people and if you're in an online group where people are making comments to make you feel bad about your circumstances or the way you're choosing to live your life then I suggest you leave those groups.

Support groups are supposed to help not make you feel guilty. Sometimes people don't set out to make you feel guilty. In blogging a lot of people don't celebrate enough of their success or their hard work, as they feel people will judge them for showing off, but I think we should celebrate our successes more and just ignore the people who try to make us feel guilty for doing so.

Do you have mum guilt or do you feel it's more fear of missing out FOMO?
I know I tend to suffer with FOMO, as I travel between our two separate lives, we miss important events, we miss day to day stuff. Our lives are in the UK with family and friends and the one we have in Dubai.

How I'm grieving one year on since my fathers death

I thought we'd got through all the 1sts since my father died suddenly on July 11th last year, until my birthday on June 26th, the moment my mum walked into the coffee shop that morning. Last year my father was with her. Of course there is still the anniversary of his death to get through and then the funeral 2 weeks later. Then we're done or are we?

For me, my start to the summer is mimicking last years UK trip. Helping the teen find somewhere to live, visiting child 4 in Belfast to say good bye before his overseas posting and typing up 1000's of names on a data base for a charity in South Africa. Mum and I even visited the Speech House for afternoon tea where I took this photo.

The same place this one was taken 3 days before my father died.

As an expat my greatest fear was not being able to be there for my parents and my children should there be an emergency and not being able to get there in time to say our last goodbyes. Travelling for nearly 20 hours back in 2012 from South Africa with no way of communicating was traumatic, not knowing if by the time I arrived at the hospital my father would've have survived his surgery or not.

After that trip, every subsequent trip I made then became my most feared trip. As much as I enjoyed the time with the family, the moment I arrived I was fully aware that I was already dreading the goodbyes, the last hugs, the last kisses and the last words, knowing that at some point in time and soon, I would be coming back to the UK with the full knowledge that my father would no longer be there.

My father was a very opinionated man and ran commentary on every situation in life, he would wind me up to the point of an argument, with neither side backing down. We both viewed the world as explorers, we shared a love of sport, particularly football, but we viewed life from different vantage points, his mostly from the 'good old days' mine from the present.

The last few weeks of my fathers life were special, we talked so much, we did things together, we always did, there were arguments of course during that time, but I have no regrets, no words left unspoken, no words spoken regretted.

On the night my father died, I said to the teen 'come on we're going to Nanna and Grandad's, be a good grandson and come with me' my niece was there with her 3 boys also. We had a drink and my father started on one of his favourite topics, yet rather than have an argument I just simply said 'I'm not doing this' we said our goodbyes, nicely and left. 3 hours later, I was back sitting at his side as he lay in the hallway, waiting for the paramedics to arrive.

That night I sat with him, I was relatively calm, I knew there was nothing I or anyone could do. When the paramedics took over I collapsed, I couldn't breathe, I phoned my husband and a friend. I stood on the street with the neighbours, then I spent several hours going over all the details with the police as it was a sudden death at home.

The following days I didn't wash, eat or sleep. I couldn't talk to anyone without gulping huge intakes of breath. I walked round the town asking in my head 'why are you smiling? don't you know my father just died' It's a small town and I wasn't able to go far without someone offering their condolences, many times I held it together, said 'thank you' often I fell apart, leaving people staring at me blankly not knowing what to say or do.

All of a sudden I went from saying 'my father died last night' to 'last week/month/year' Mum moved during this period. I returned back and forth to my home in Dubai. My father was a hoarder, thankfully everything was labelled, but trying to sell it all has been a battle. A challenge I've accepted, willingly. I shout at him for leaving me all this crap to sort/sell/donate/throw. I look through his things and wonder why he never showed me this stuff when he was alive. I get angry with him for leaving us like he did. I get emotional, I cry. I can't watch the World Cup without crying, or pass merchandise in the shops without automatically wanting to buy him something. I can't attend a sporting event without getting upset, as he'd be back at home trying to spot me on the TV, while mum relayed the information via face book. I can no longer argue with him, tell him he's wrong and I miss all that.

But as time has gone on, I cry less, but I never stop thinking about him, good or bad. I cried as I wrote this sitting in a coffee shop in Belfast, people were looking at me, I didn't care. Because I fear the day that I don't cry for my father, the day I no longer shed a tear.

There are days, whole days when he doesn't enter my thoughts, but they are rare. He'd be so proud of the teen with his new job, he'd be excited for child 4 as he heads off on another tour with the army, he was so excited when child 3 told him he was going to Australia a couple of weeks before he died, he'd be so looking forward to seeing him come back in October for a visit. He missed child 2's wedding last month.

He's missed by us all, he'll never see Thing 1, 2 & 3 grow up, his great grandchildren, or the great children my mum will get to know. Thing 1 who is 4 said to me the other day 'My grandad died, your daddy died, do you miss him? I do'

This is the post I wrote marking the end of 2017. Managing grief 5 months on.
Although i am not my mother's carer, I do need to support her with stuff while she adapts to life on her own after 53 years of marriage. Living in a different country is challenging and our story appeared in the Daily Mail, you can read about it here.

Everyone's favourite Aunty

This is a post from last year, all travel now is to see the boys and I'm off again soon, hence the update.

I’m travelling alone again, having left hubby and the boys back in South Africa to sort out evicting our tenants. I hate being away from my family for so long, in fact in 14 years I’ve know my husband this is the longest we have spent apart. Up until we became expats it was him doing all the travelling, but the balance has shifted.

Most of my friends have young children and in the past, almost 3 years their children just see me as either Suzanne or Chickenruby who visits with gifts twice a year from a country far. They’ve forgotten I have children and have no concept of children being anything but like themselves and not teenagers and adults.

When I visit I do a lot of travelling and visiting, it’s easier on my own for family and friends to offer a spare room or let me sleep on their sofa. The concept of me having a husband and children seems to have disappeared and although people do ask about everyone, their relationship is now with just me and not my family as a whole.

I feel like everyone’s single friend, to children I am the ‘favourite’ aunty, for family I am their daughter, sister, mother and to strangers I must appear as a spinster.

I want t-shirts printed for different occasions.

When I’m out on my own it must read ‘married expat with kids, visiting the homeland’

When I’m out with parents ‘I’m not their carer, nor special needs’

When I’m out with friends ‘Don’t forget there is more to my life than just being able to travel’

Do other expats feel the same way? Do you have family and friends, even in the same country and feel this way when you visit?