Dearest Readers,
You know your life is busy when one of your friends cannot even keep up with what you did on Friday night, never mind the whole weekend..! So I thought I’d write to let you know how a not so-untypical weekend unfurls with a single, working Rock Chick Mum (RCM-which is also the acronym for the Royal College of Music so quite appropriate for me!)

My weekend started on Thursday night with an impassioned call from a friend of mine in Birmingham who is an electric violinist, who was unfortunately suffering from Labyrinthitis, ( a middle ear infection).
He was booked to play at a Wedding on Saturday on the outskirts of Birmingham, and didn’t want to pull out (so as not to alarm the Bride!). But was worried he might keel over and asked me to accompany him as backup, but he could only pay a small fee.

I wasn’t working on Saturday, and he is a very good friend who I enjoy playing with so of course I said yes. Now all I had to sort was the logistical problems of trains and babysitting. Without a husband to help, this can prove rather tricky… My first point of call was to cancel the Godparents who were booked in for lunch at mine on Saturday. When I spoke to Rachel, she at once offered to have my son overnight on Friday, thereby allowing me to catch an early train on Saturday morning. Great!

Now onto booking train tickets, whilst cooking dinner for my boy… Thank goodness for iPhone apps..! Was totally easy for once…. So tickets booked, and childcare sorted… Things were going too smoothly. Friday afternoon gave me a spare hour in which to paint my toenails (very important for a strappy heels gig..!), re-pack my double violin case, (acoustic and electric, spare strings, etc) and play a few scales.

At 4 pm, I left to collect my son from Sports Camp, whisk him on a train to Waterloo where I duly dropped him at the Godparents. Dive into M & S to buy a bottle of Rose for my friends party, (queue far too long so abandon idea), back on a train to SW London. Stop at a local shop and buy obligatory bottle of Rose, attend friend’s moving house party for 2 hours. Get duly teased by all the smug marrieds about my life back on the dating scene…. At 8 pm, my date rings to say he is waiting outside. It’s strange, we had been talking on the phone for a month, getting on terrifically well, but I had never in fact laid eyes on him. It only takes a split second to decide; as he got out of his car….It was a definite no, which meant I’d just left all my friends at a party to go endure 2 hours with a man I really wasn’t attracted to… Hey ho!! The single life…

After 2 hours with “The Date”, I extricate myself and rush back to my friend’s party. My friend, the host, is now falling down drunk…. I find myself trying to prevent him breaking his neck as he attempts headstands on deckchairs and handstands on the edge of the pond….! I dutifully stay on pineapple juice and high alert to ensure my friend stays in one piece… A late night pool party ensues…SO exhilarating in London, to be under the stars in a warm pool! With towel dry hair, I say my goodbyes, well past midnight and look for the first cab or bus to take me home… (Whichever comes first rule and all that?)
In bed for after 1 am…

Saturday
Alarm 7am. I’m a musician… Mornings are always a terrific weak spot hence I don’t have a TV, as I get all my writing and jobs done in the evening!
I leave by 7.45am and drive the short distance to my local train station (after checking the tfl.gov.uk website and realise my tube line isn’t running…) DOH. Again, thank goodness for my iPhone!

I’m on the 9.03am train to Birmingham International, where I arrive a speedily 1 hr and 15 mins later. My friend, Joshua, collects me and we drive to the church together. We are terrifically early for a 1pm Wedding, hence I do some scales and warm up exercises in the church car park! The Wedding goes very well and everyone seems to love our music. The vicar is inspirational… Well past 70 years old and quite the entertainer. When he gets to the bit about marriage being for life, Joshua and I poke each other in the legs… We are the two divorced violinists at the back of the church…Slightly jaded about Marriage but forever hopeful!

After the service, we drive to the Wedding Venue and play for the drinks reception. I transform from normal clothes to glam evening dress, and the sun is so strong I have to wear my shades to play! Joshua has to sit, as he’s feeling very dizzy. I play on….

For the Wedding Breakfast, (yes this really is a marathon gig!), we finally get some recognition from the audience and also more importantly a request from the Best Man, to order whatever we want off the menu… Ah Food! Dear Readers, never let your musician’s go hungry; you’ll never get a good performance out of them! The glass of champagne that came with it also helped! Exhausted at 5.20pm we sit down to eat… (I realise I’ve had nothing since a bowl of cereal at 7am this morning!). We wow them with a big finale 20 minutes later, then literally pack up in a flash, in order to get me back to the station to catch the 7pm train home. Luckily I have 5 minutes to spare to change out of my evening dress at the station before I alight onto my train…

At 8.45pm, I collect my son from the Godparents in Waterloo. They offer me a glass of champagne… I take only a few sips, before my son trips over in the lounge and bursts into tears. I quickly bundle him in his rain coat, say my profuse thank you’s and take him home on the train.

Dear Readers, carrying a double violin case, a gig bag, a handbag and a sleeping 5 year is no mean feat… Hence now you know why I drove to my local train station! (Because I knew this would happen…) Oh for an album deal and a driver….!
Once back at home and little one safely tucked up, I indulge in relaxing bath and a mug of green tea…. Oh how rock and roll am I!

Sunday am
Son wakes me at an unearthly hour. I stagger to the kitchen, make him breakfast and put him in front of the Cbeebies website and go back to bed.
Later, my sister wakes me by phoning to invite us out to the local park. I take along the son’s new bicycle, thinking this would be a great opportunity to get him practicing.
Of course, he practices briefly, gets bored and I end up carrying it most of the way! (Why are children’s metal bicycles SO heavy…?)

After the park, we race back home to make a picnic, then looking at the ominous black rain clouds in the sky I decide not to cycle and catch the 2 buses required to get us to Hyde Park. One of them is a double decker; hence we sit upstairs at the front which my son ADORES!

So an English group picnic and game of rounder’s in Hyde Park in August, turns out to be a quick bit of French cricket in between downpours, me running left right and centre retrieving the ball wherever my rascal of a 5 year old decides to lob it, and an awful lot of sheltering under trees; whilst feeling soggy and chilly!!

After 2 ½ hours of this, we say our goodbyes and catch the 2 buses home. The traffic is the usual, “It’s raining in London GRIDLOCK”, and so by the time we arrive home we are weary, wet and chilled as can be! Only a hot bath and toast can revive us both.
Only in England, in August……!

At 9pm I start practicing… Son, a little clingy, hence brings his pillow and blanket into the living room and curls up on the floor whilst I practice… He falls asleep quite soon. I carry him to bed, kiss him and then carry on practicing…
A truly RCM weekend…

I simply must report in full detail of an event that has literally just happened to me. I know I’ve been absent from this diary for a while, but I am now back with avengence!
Let’s suffice to say that I’ve been fighting lots of “forest fires” and buying a new place and moving in..! As well as being a Rock Chick Mum!

So back to the story I hear you cry! Three weeks ago Dear Readers, I moved into a brand new property on a brand new development, built by very well known and respected developer. Everything is SO new and sparkly but sorely lacking in cupboards… NONE whatsoever, except for a built in wardrobe in my bedroom. My son is delighted with his bedroom but his toys, books and DVD’s are everywhere, that is until I can get this shelving crisis sorted..! (I just can’t bear the thought of a trip to Ikea… Surely I’m too old now for Ikea…?)

Last night, I decided to get a reasonably early night and be in bed by 12am. I’d had a handyman around all day building shelves, and he’d stayed so late I ended up cooking him dinner and listening to his tales of woe! Hence exhausted, and too tired to read, I went to bed. Imagine my horror, at being awoken abruptly, by what sounded like a ship’s turbine engine coming from my ensuite bathroom….. My first illogical thought was that there was a Poltergeist in my bathroom….
Heart in my mouth, I switched on the super-dooper eco lighting (it’s almost black when you first switch them on… so no help really..!). The enormous noise was coming from my bathroom cabinet….I flung the door open, only to come face to face with all my various products… (Of which there are many!) But no answer to the deafening sound. It strangely seemed to be emanating from behind the cabinet wall; but what on earth engine wise could be behind there…? It seemed to make no sense in my sleep-deprived state. Hence I closed the cabinet door, then the bathroom door, slipped back into bed, put a pillow over my ears and went back to sleep.

Around 7am, my son burst in with his hands over his ears, “Mummy, Mummy…
what’s that awful noise?” he cried. I staggered into the bathroom (being a musician, I am not terrifically good in the mornings to say the least!) and was appalled to find the awful noise was still going! I opened the bathroom cabinet again; I switched the light on and off… It didn’t make a jot of difference. At 8am I rang the site office and made a formal complaint and asked for an engineer to come over ASAP to sort out this dreadful problem.

I then cycled my son to school, in readiness for his first ever Sport’s Day at Primary School. Such a sense of occasion… A slight panic that I’d forgotten to give him his new House T-Shirt, but a mad dash over the 800m running track by yours truly, meant it was safely handed to his class teacher and his much needed water bottle.. Phew! (He came 2nd in the Sprint race… I’m a very proud Mummy! Being ever so slightly competitive, I was disappointed there was no Mum’s race this year; I’d worn gym kit especially!)

In between watching the Sport’s Day, cheering and clapping, and bemoaning the lack of a coffee stand with the other parents, I received a couple of phone calls from the Developer’s Site Office. They were treating my “unexplained noise” very seriously and were sending a chap around now to remedy the problem if I could be back home by 11.30am. I said I could, and duly got back on my bicycle and peddled home.

Just as I arrived home, my solicitor, who I’d been trying to get hold of for several days rang me and the doorbell rang simultaneously. It was Paul, the DIY man, and I showed him into my bathroom whilst continuing my conversation with my solicitor. After about 10 minutes, I finished my call, and heard Paul on his phone telling someone that he was and I quote…”Clueless as to what was causing this awful noise.” He scratched his head abit more, ended his call and asked whether he could turn the power off, I of course agreed. It made no difference whatsoever… So Paul said, “This noise is being driven by a separate power source…”
The plot thickened. “I’m calling for a second opinion” said Paul, and duly got back on his phone. I pragmatically, said I would empty my bathroom cabinet of products in case the chap needed to take it off the wall.

As I was doing just that, Paul came back into the bathroom to chat to me. That’s when I noticed, that my small, discreet vibrator, was in full view of Paul, INSIDE MY BATHRROM CABINET!! (Because I can’t leave it in my bedside table having a 5 year old in the house!!) . It was also lying next to my electric toothbrush. Mortified, I quickly picked up the said vibrator and electric toothbrush and put them into the box; only to have the awful dawning realisation that the vibrator was actually STILL ON….!!!

“Listen” said Paul;” the noise has almost gone…” Quick as a flash I proudly lifted up my electric toothbrush and turned it on and off… “Oh look Paul… My toothbrush had been resting in a metal tray inside the cabinet, and must have turned itself on in the night….!! I blushed with embarrassment and Paul guffawed loudly. I put the toothbrush back into the metal tray and turned it back on so we could both hear how loud the sound was….!! A huge amount of laughter followed, and silent praying on my part and he hadn’t clocked the vibrator (!) and I showed him out of the door…
“Don’t forget to cancel the reinforcements!” I laughed “I also hope your next job is as hilarious and perplexing as this one!”
I literally flopped onto the door as I closed it behind him and giggled. I went back into the bathroom and looked at my little, discreet vibrator, which had worn away all its silver paint away by jiggling away all night on a METAL TRAY>>>!!! Poor little device…

Still girls; at least we all do now know that only your vibrator can REALLY go all night long!

So this is the story of one of my first “post-baby” gigs in Istanbul….

My son, M, was precisely 3 months old and exclusively breast fed, when H and I were having a… “We have our lives’ back in control moment!” Picture the scene dear readers, a balmy late summers’ afternoon; it was a Monday and we were sat outside one of our favourite pubs right on the river. I had just fed M, hence was allowing myself a small glass of Rose and an expresso… (Oh the decadence); when my phone rang…

It was a lady from a major oil company in Istanbul, wondering if my duo could fly out to Istanbul this Friday, to do a show on the banks of the Bosphorus River? Oh, and by the way, did we have any James Bond numbers we could play? A mixture of elation and panic filled my stomach. “Of course we’d love to perform and, yes we could learn a James Bond track,” I heard myself saying. The only problem being; I didn’t have a duo partner as we’d split acrimoniously right after M was born! Oh dear, I had 3 days to sort this!!

Undeterred and feeling ludicrously confident after my first glass of wine in over a year; I set about my enormous task:

Of finding a new duo partner, to rehearse them, teach them the choreography, find a new James Bond track, a sound guy that was free for the gig, check my Mum could babysit for 4 days AND somehow get my exclusively breast fed baby to take a bottle… all in 4 days! It was quite a set of challenges, to say the least; but somehow, God knows, I did it..!

After a fleeting rehearsal with my new duo partner E, and the services of a sound guy –SG, procured, we found ourselves at the Business Class check in of British Airways on Friday morning. It was a 4 ½ hour flight, just over the time limit of a gap between a normal feed with my baby. As a breast-feeding Mummy, I knew the only way to prevent agony (!), was to express in the Business Class Lounge toilets; right before I got on the flight.

So our SG and E, decided to kick back and relax with the coffee and pastries and I dived into the ladies loos. For those readers unfamiliar with “breast expressing devices”, let me just advise you that they have absolutely rubbish electric motors, that sound remarkably like a vibrator….! Since I wasn’t wearing a watch, I guessed the time on “each side”, that is until I heard E’s voice outside the cubicle, telling me to hurry as it was the last call for our flight!! When I opened the cubicle door, there was a large queue of women all looking at me very suspiciously! Imagine what they’d been thinking? How embarrassing! (Just in case you’re wondering, the milk had to go down the sink and I just made it on the flight!) By the time we landed, my boobs were ready to explode! So again, I dived into a ladies loo and asked SG to collect my suitcase off the carousel, which to his horror, was bright pink! Hey Ho..!

The gig itself was amazing. One of the most stunning locations imaginable, in the grounds of a golden Palace, directly on the banks of the Bosphorus River. The James Bond numbers had gone down a storm, as the MD of the company walked out on stage, wearing a black tux, during a laser light show, whilst we played the James Bond Theme. The audience went wild! His opening line, (cheesy but fabulous) was “The World is simply not enough..!” Afterwards we were invited to stay for cocktails. The night time air was heavy with heat and exotic scents. A slight breeze caught my chiffon skirt, blowing it gently against my legs. Needless to say after one cocktail al fresco on the banks of the river, (and no booze for well over a year and being full of hormones); the world seemed a very wonderful and surreal place indeed!
I knew at that point, after receiving a text message from my Mum saying M was taking milk from the bottle fine and being an angel that life was changing for the better indeed. I was back in a mini-skirt, (for one!), and as I gazed out over the water to the twinkling lights of Istanbul, I realised life as a Rock Chick Mum would always be an adventure!

As the current pop song goes…!!

Jan 4th- First day back at school… Since currently living at my sister’s I now have to drive my son to school. All great, no traffic except my tyre pressure warning light comes on… So a quick phone call to a friend who lives by the school to drop little one and an early morning dash to my garage, ( new tyre required; £100 poorer thank you very much!) then mad dash back to drop my son M at school and it’s all over by 8.50am… Phew! Mentally note- must drive to airport on Thursday to save on taxi money..!!

Jan 5th- Drive to school the oil warning light pings on! Whatever next…? How does a girl, now without a husband sort out these car problems..? Well lipstick of course..! Off to the car shop I go before the terribly nice man behind the counter gets under my bonnet… (No seriously dear readers..!) and sorts out my oil problem. Another crisis averted! Later that afternoon I head over to a fab rehearsal studio we use in Kings Cross. It’s clean, non- smelly and the toilets aren’t unisex – which for a girl-band dear readers, is an absolute must!

A 4 hour rehearsal quickly turns into a 1 hour New Year catch up and a 3 hour intensive rehearsal. It always amazes me in a wonderful way, how even when we haven’t played and sung together all for a while; it still always sounds amazing! Such good energy… I love these girls!

Straight home, but do go via the pub to meet up with some local pals knowing full well a guy will be in attendance who may offer to help me out on the lap-top front! You see part of my being independent campaign is using my own lap-top (I’ve never had one before ..!) and it arrived on Christmas Eve and is still in the box..! More lipstick is applied, and yes, you guessed it, I have a date of Monday to go round to his house and get my laptop sorted..! Yeah! Now home to pack for St. Moritz…. It’s gone 10pm; I’ve had one glass of red but must crack on!

Jan 6th- I leave at 6am to drive to Heathrow… Cost cutting and all that…. We 4 girls and 1 sound man are flying out to entertain 275 Russian men… Two of the band are single (myself newly so…!) Classic RCM quote: when talking with the girls jokingly about the possibility of the Russians’ giving cash tips or diamonds, one of the girls said dourly, ” Maybe they only give to charity” quick as a flash I quipped:” But charity begins at home.!” When on the train from Zurich going up the mountain to Chur, the cellist asked me what attributes I’m looking for in my next husband, without blinking I replied, “A yacht..!” We all fell about on the train in fits of laughter.. Crazy English girls! Well enough of the blatant materialism on with the story..!!

The first show we did hit a bit of a problem when we turned up after 10 hours of travelling and found that the AV ( Audio/Visual) company had only hired in 2 radio packs for 4 instruments… We need one each! The stage was also in totally the wrong place. Still we sound checked as best we could. The client then sent us off with a member of the Hotel staff to go to the “restaurant” to eat.

Dear readers, imagine our horror, when after all that travelling and all that stress they lead us down into the bowels of the Hotel to eat in the staff canteen with the porters….!!! I’m never great on an empty stomach anyway but this really took the biscuit in a 6 star Hotel!! Small diva tantrum later with the client, we were schuttled off to a lovely restaurant in the Hotel where we are staying. Aside from the horse on the menu (!) it was delightful meal.

So onto our 2 shows. They go down really well, especially my solo version of “Kalinka”! Thank goodness for adrenaline, its the only thing that gets you through these marathon show days! They were a strange crowd of fabulously rich Russians….. We come off- stage at 12.40pm. Proud as punch that we pulled it off but delirious with exhaustion. We get changed and are suddenly invited to a local bar. Hurrah. Suddenly there is life, vitality and live music! The place is totally heaving with mainly men in ski wear… When all of us blond girls walk in, in full stage makeup and clothing the place erupts! Next thing you know I’m literally dancing on the tables with one of the girls trying not to bash my head on a speaker! What fun! Rock ‘n’ roll!!! I get chatted up by a 6 ft. 4 ” ski instructor – always good for one’s morale!

Jan 7th-The following morning we are being led up to the cable car by our intrepid DJ/ guide. Dear readers, let me tell you, riding in a cable car with a full quartet of instruments whilst wearing ski gear is a very odd feeling indeed! Imagine all the strange looks we got from all the other skiers/boarders? Well 3 cable cars later, we arrive in a marquee, clinging to the side of a mountain next to a Gourmet restaurant. The weather is really bad and overcast AND it’s starting to snow… Oh dear.

We are left alone in this marquee for 2 hours to do our sound check… Snow is blowing in through the cracks, there’s no heating and best of all, the SOS transmitter on the mountain is causing our radio systems to have a high pitched squeal through the PA system..!! Blimey you thought commuting was tough..! At last we get sound check finished and we go into the cafe for a hot drink… Literally E50 for 5 hot teas! Welcome to St. Moritz!! The client then realises we are having a dreadful time and moves us into a huge dressing room, just off the side of the restaurant; complete with horribly fattening but quite delicious Swiss treats!

We go onstage for the pop show about 7pm, entertaining lots of Russian families who have paid E800 each a ticket..! Well dear readers imagine a gig where you have to access the stage in high heels, down a metal staircase in a blizzard whilst carrying an electric instrument and wearing very little!! Surely that must be a world’s first? It was a perilous entrance to say the very least!

The show went down a storm, and afterwards we were plied with expensive champagne, vodka (of course but not for me!), truffle pizza (quite smelly and I have to say it made me feel slightly nauseous!) and caviar!! Followed by a 20 minute firework display on the mountain side in a blizzard…. Quite an extraordinary evening. Life does sometimes get a little bit surreal. As I was stood in a full scale blizzard, shielding my face so I could watch the fireworks, clutching my glass of Tattinger in my ski glove on the side of a mountain; I really thought…. “ Wow, this is about as good as life gets!! Carpe Dium!!”

Needless to say the band and I hit the same bar in town afterwards and knowing our cab was booked at 05.20am, I didn’t stay long, just long enough to get up on stage with the resident singer/guitarist and do a quick rendition of “Mustang Sally”. Quite a hit with the ski crowd!!Or maybe it was the “PVC” hipsters..? Not really the usual garb for a ski bar! What a hoot!

Jan 8th- However, at 05.20am not only did our cab not show up, but neither did 2 of our band! In fact, I had to run out into the road to flag down a people carrier to take us to the train station; otherwise we would have missed our 3 train connections and then our flight home! As I flagged down the car, I noticed one of the girls from the band trying to get into the Hotel at the wrong entrance… Dear readers, she was just coming home….! Slightly the worse for wear to put it politely!
Sadly we had to leave her and the sound man behind (who was nowhere to be found) to make their own way home! It did all make for quite an adrenaline rush and a lot of laughter on the trains home!

P.S – I made it back to South West London by 1.50pm… Giving me 10 minutes before the Farmers Market closed to buy some Organic meat and fruit for my little son. Always a RCM! Did keep my shades on in the market though……!!!

Dearest readers – December 3rd, Friday night, drive back from a band gig in Oxfordshire in a snow/sleet storm. It was a cracking gig, but in a strange venue with low ceilings, so that when I jumped up onto some empty chairs to get the crowd going, I swung my bow around and nearly broke it on the ceiling….! Extremely tired as son woke me up twice in the night with a high temperature and bad dreams, plus I was gigging the night before too @ Somerset House!

December 4th – day before my Birthday! Saturday, wake up at 7am, take son to his 9am music class in Baker St on the tube…(No private taxi for me dear readers..!) H refuses to take him as he says the class is boring! Son insists on chocolate croissant before class….It goes everywhere! I have no wipes… Hey ho.

Home by 11am and then packing for my gig tonight in Aberdeen. Playing in an all-girl electric string quartet, as I do, means that I have to catch quite a lot of flights. However the agent didn’t book our flights until last minute, which meant they could only get us on a 14.55 flight from Heathrow which was due to get us in at 16.30pm, the venue being 30 minutes taxi ride away and our sound check was scheduled at 17.30pm… Cutting it fine to say the least! Now here’s what happened!

Crisis no 1/
Say goodbye to H and son, get in awaiting taxi to go to Heathrow. Five minutes into the journey, my sound man calls to say his laptop has crashed and hence doesn’t have any of our backing tracks..! HELP!! Quick U-turn in taxi, race home, say hello to son and H, jump on computer, burn CD’s.

Crisis no2/
Queue at Heathrow T5 for BA bag drop worse than any charter flight I’ve ever seen… Of course we choose the slowest queue….Checking in with a cello in a huge flight case is never fun… Off to outsize baggage drop… Now very late…

Crisis no 3/
Security- As we all know airport security is in another dimension now… Who hasn’t been stopped? However, not only do I get stopped, searched, searched again, I get told, that “It’s not satisfactory that they haven’t found anything on me, so they are sending me for full body scan…!” I feel like screaming….” You haven’t found anything because I’m not a terrorist, I’m a violinist!!!!” Now very, very late.

Crisis no 4/
Have to run full tilt to make the flight. Get on flight, am sat next to an incredibly drunk Scottish man on his way home from the States, who proceeds to try to chat me up by asking me about my walking boots…! Please!! I try to run away but he follows me down the plane to where the rest of the band are. Everyone highly amused! Plane doesn’t take off for 1 hour due to serious weather conditions… Seriously late now!

Crisis no 5/
That awful moment at the baggage carousel… when it goes around and around and your bag is not on it… Yes dear readers, that was us in Aberdeen. We were missing one of our equipment cases. Baggage services said that for no particular reason it was being sent on the next flight up. I go into full Diva meltdown…. Hence taxi ordered and told to rush it straight over to the Marcliffe Hotel Ballroom, as we can’t do our show without it!

Crisis 5/
Arrive so late to the venue that the guests are actually arriving in black tie! Hence we have to sneak off to the dressing room without a sound check (this is a musician’s nightmare…). Later, missing box arrives, drink reception finishes and I have a brainstorm. The drinks reception area has curtains dividing it off from the main hall. We ask the staff to close them , then creep in with our instruments and do an entire sound check silently using our in-ear monitors ( like special headphones, only we can hear ourselves and the tracks…) Genius!
No more crisis’s….!!!!
Great, great show. Lots of lovely Scottish people up dancing; men in kilts twirling around… Afterwards we hit the Hotel bar, as only lovely Scottish Hotels do cosy SO beautifully. Roaring log fires, and homemade shortbread. The girls order a bottle of champagne to toast my Birthday… What a day it’s been!!!!

December 5th – 7.30am – My Birthday! Fly back to Heathrow alone. I’m the only girl on the flight. Lots of dour looking business men. Collect my son from home; go to my niece’s Christening… flight was late due to the snow so miss the service. Go to reception in the Church hall, so late we’ve missed the food….! Sweep the floor after everyone leaves to help out. Feeling a little like Cinderella; it is my Birthday after all…!
Yeah rock and roll… Drive son home. Cook his dinner, bath, bed. Glamorous….????

Means super shiny, totally flickable hair is a pre-requisite of the highest order… A show would not be a show without an immense amount of posturing and hair-flicking..! Hence gorgeous locks need time, energy and effort to maintain!

As many mums know, getting the time to do a hair appointment can be a tricky thing… You need both the time and the childcare in place before you can secure the elusive appointment. For me that is often an evening appointment at a swanky salon in Fulham that opens late in the evenings. Unfortunately on the last two occasions we had run out of time to cut my hair, so fast forward to this latest appointment joy of joys… They could fit me in for both colour and cut..! No more frazzled split ends for me!

So imagine my horror… The utter spine tingling, wanting the ground to open me up and swallow me whole moment of it all..! When after doing my blond highlights (yes my colour is assisted!), and washing it through, my hairdresser started to comb it through and then excused herself, went away and came back with another hairdresser who then broke the most hideous news to me:

“Sorry madam, but we’ll have to terminate this appointment you’ve got nits!”

My blood ran cold, had the rest of the salon overheard..? The shame…! I’m a respectable married, working mother… I have a gym membership, I recycle, I donate to charities, and I do charity gigs…I’ve GOT NITS..!
Oh help… I’d never had it as a child, what should I do..?

I was ushered out of the salon and told to go to the pharmacy next door and buy the shampoo. The pharmacist asked if I had a comb? Of course I have a comb I replied…! Once I got home I read the instructions and realised I needed a special nit comb… Doh! Another trip of shame and embarrassment to another pharmacist to purchase said comb..! As I left the salon I phoned the husband in a slightly distressed state… Please check our son, does he have nits? His reply was a shocking yes and then total lack of support to me for bringing nits into our home…! Blimey, the truth I now know is that it’s children who bring it into your home not the other way round..!

The main thing nobody tells you about nits is how much work is involved..! Take heart anyone reading this who finds out the same dreaded news… You do get rid of it but lots of effort is required…! Stripping and washing of all bed linen, endless amounts of hair combing with loads of conditioner, lots of towel washing… Lots of chasing your kid around the bathroom..! Basically a nightmare..! But you can kick it!

But darling readers take heart, whilst in a waiting room the other day; I was reading a copy of an American publication, when my heart skipped a beat… Madonna’s has just found out she’s got nits, brought home from the school by the kids … Yeah it can happen to anyone, even an “A” lister! As a dear friend of mine who I confessed my sorry story to said…” the most shocking part of your story darling is that you are precisely the last person on earth you would expect to get nits!”

Monday – Whilst visiting friends in Marlow at the weekend we bring home a property paper and see a house that catches our eye. I call to make an appointment for Friday @ 11am.

Wednesday – 9.10am- The estate agent rings from Marlow, the house is going to sealed bids at 4pm on Friday. Is that a problem? “Not at all”, I reply easily, as though I’m always going to see houses that go to sealed bids 5 hours after I go to view them! Help! Better take H with me on this one!

11.30 am- The photographer arrives from The Evening Standard to photograph the happy family,(that’s us, since H is now around due to the fact he’s on “Gardening leave”). It’s for an article for their “Homes and Property” section, since our home is currently up for sale.

Our estate agent’s PR woman, knows the Evening Standard PR woman and when they were looking for a family in our area our darling estate agent thought of us! How kind! It’s also a chance for some blatant self-promotion… Well yes dear readers, welcome to the world of the self-employed musician. Always on the “hard sell” and looking for the next gig…. (That is of course unless you are someone like Kylie and then the gigs pretty much come to you!). It’s all about raising one’s profile darling! Anyhow I digress, the photo shoot….

Well to say the photographer chap had a skin condition is an understatement… He seemed to have a collection of them poor soul, and he was also vastly overweight. Not quite the “Vogue” experience I had envisaged! Well all three of us pose dutifully in the garden, (my son, M, H and me). I’m slightly concerned about H, since he’s not great when someone points a camera at him! Luckily, my son takes after his mother and takes to modelling like a duck out of water….Mmmm, maybe I could start taking him to hundreds of castings, with the hope one day he’ll be the next Macaulay Culkin and then we could have family holidays in L.A and stay at the…STOP! So sorry, I’m getting carried away, back to the photo shoot.

The “afflicted” photographer then asks if we would pose in front of the house by the gate. Great, I think, then all the neighbours will see us doing a photo shoot and pop over and ask me about it, where upon I will very casually mention that The Evening Standard are doing a featured article on us and our home!

(What actually transpires is that none of the neighbours are around to see us being photographed and the article comes out 3 weeks later and is tiny! I can’t believe it!) They didn’t even show a picture of our house and worse than that, H is smiling so hard (bless) he’s got chipmunk cheeks and I look like I’m blinking!!
Only M appears perfect in all his photographic glory… Hey ho.

Thursday – 7pm-Have just finished watching “In the Night Garden” with M, (the only daily T.V viewing I allow, and I’m very strict about this. However, I do believe that when I’m not around, and there is a childcare crisis with the H, the first resort to soothe the crying child is CBeebies, followed in close 2nd by chocolate. I do not condone this kind of parenting…(Although I was informed last week by a dad I met in the playground, that this is very much standard practice with all father’s, so ‘Get over it!’. I pretend I don’t know…).

Anyhow, back to the living room, just then my band arrives, (all 3 girls plus sound guy -SG) and me of course. M gets millions of kisses from all the girlies and H makes fabulous pizzas for all whilst I hurriedly pack all my gear and clothing for our gig tomorrow. We say our goodbyes sometime after 8pm and pile into the fabulous band mobile that our sound guy (SG) has hired. (Think A team van with the pimp tint windows).

We make good time up to Nottingham and check into the Hotel very late. SG’s wondering whether to leave the gear in the van overnight when the very first thing we see as we walk into the Hotel, is a huge pink fluorescent poster screaming” Do NOT leave valuables in your car as they are liable to be stolen”.Hmm, guess that answers that question! After much lugging of gear, we all hit the sack- no rock ‘n’ roll drinking for us!

Friday – 10am-Soundcheck. This is terribly early for musicians but we all make it. It’s a huge venue, packed with hundreds of chairs and tables. The stage is the weirdest shape I have ever seen, it’s also on different levels. Not great for a 4 piece band with choreography! The show is after lunch and I decide to wear a new zip-up strappy top; which exactly half-way through the first number decides to come un-zipped, and I’m not wearing a bra! There are at this point exactly 683 men sat in the room.

Let me just explain dear readers, that it is extremely difficult well-nigh impossible, to play electric violin, smile, look pretty, do all the right moves at the right time AND twist your back in such a way to prevent your left strap from slipping off your shoulder in order for your entire top to sat on!!

However, I soldier on true showbiz style that is until the two tables directly in front of me realise what’s going on and many of them get up and stand right by the side of the stage, whooping and cheering me! Only two more numbers to go!! Oh help, this next one starts with my back to the audience- oh what the hell- I turn around accordingly. Now the entire room gets what’s going on and I sense intrepidation in the air… “Will it fall off or won’t it?” Suffice to say, we get a roar of applause at the end of the final number and my left hand clamps my top firmly in place to take my bows!

Signing CD’s after the show, I am informed there was a huge bet going on in the room regarding my top. Some poor chaps lost quite a few quid! Well at least I did my bit to help commerce that day! Elated and tired we hop back in the band mobile for the drive back to London. It’s only when we get to around J5 on the M1 that we all notice 2 police bikes go screaming past. SG is speaking to someone on speaker phone and curses, “Damn, think they are stopping me for speeding”, he says. “Relax” I say, “They’re just rushing ahead, maybe to an accident that’s just happened, that’s all.”

We drive on, when suddenly a cop car, sirens blazing, comes right behind us, “Oh s***” says SG, he was doing just over 70mph at the time. “He’s pulling us over, he’s pulling us over”. “No he’s not” I retort calmly, ” He’s just going ahead to the scene of the accident where the police bikes went to”. (I always try to be calm in a crisis). That is, until the police car ahead of us, sirens still blazing, flashes up on his rear LED strip light… “FOLLOW ME”. We all gulp…..It is, at that precise moment we all collectively notice that there are no other cars on the M1 at 9pm on a Friday night, except us and the police car in front of us, the unmarked police cars to our direct left and right and the police car behind us. I notice the unmarked car to our left has a policeman wearing a bullet-proof vest… Oh dear, this incident up ahead must be really serious. It is at this point, that our band of 3 girls (the cellist having stayed up North) and 1 sound man start to feel a wee bit scared…

We progress to the end of the M1 and we follow the police car ahead of us into a large lay-by. I look around for scenes of an accident and fire engine, but oddly, there doesn’t appear to be any. A policeman gets out of one of the cars and walks over and asks SG to step out of the vehicle. Leaving us girls sat in the back in our track suits and full stage make-up, rather scared.

Just then, another policeman comes over and dramatically slides open the side door of our “A Team” pimp-tinted van, to reveal me, sat alone in the middle seat, resplendent in my baby pink Juicy Couture tracksuit and my new Mac glittery eye shadow…..the police man’s eyes nearly pop out on stalks! His shock is compounded by the petite and pretty first violinist leaning over from the front seat, and the beautiful blonde viola player leaning over form the back seat.We all fix him with winning smiles, “Hi, we’re a band!”

At this point life became rather surreal. He explained that our vehicle had been flagged by police helicopters ( ooh how exciting!), several junctions ago as a certain type of vehicle that terrorists like to use, and the police had stopped all traffic on the M1, hence it had been only us and police for the last 5 junctions!

We were being asked to step out of the vehicle so the police sniffer dogs could check for explosives! At this bizarre juncture, we all burst out laughing as we look around at the police cars, 2 motorcycle cops, 1 police wagon and 1 police van…. With all those officers looking back at 3 girls in full stage make up and track suits… It was then apparently, that SG told the officer in charge to sit back and enjoy the show as “the BAND” got to work!

Well firstly, we all dashed over to the police dogs, which were so terribly cute, that we all insisted on stroking them and playing with them for ages. We were quizzing the handlers where they came from, their names, in fact, all about them. The little doggies seemed to cherish all the attention. When they did finally get around to sniffing the van, we did point out that there were thousands of pounds of instruments in there and could they please be very careful!

Then it was onto the rather super police motor bikes. Well, I ask you, what’s a girl to do? The viola player bounced forward first and asked to have a photo taken sat astride the monstrous bike. Not to be outdone, I stepped forward and asked if I could have my picture taken. However, always the entertainer, I couldn’t resist saying whilst trying to get my leg over the bloody thing- “Ooh officer, it is big isn’t it!” There was much guffawing amongst the men. Did however get a fab photo of me on the bike though. Then to mark the auspicious occasion we assembled all 14 officers, police dogs and the BAND and got SG to take a group shot with our phones….Fabulous!

Needless to say, we felt we really brightened up an otherwise dull Friday night for all our darling police men. We on the other hand, got some classic photos, an official bit of paper to say we had been stopped and searched under “the terrorism act” and a favourite story to dine out on for the next couple of weeks!

Quite how many unsuspecting girl bands the police have stopped on the M1 for being terrorists we shall never know…. Still, we got some great photos. Maybe I’ll take my motor bike test… I do look rather sexy astride that monster……!

Sunday

– Decided to brave the ½ hour family service at Church. This is no mean feat when H grumbles about never getting a lie in anymore so I have to go alone- a la single mum.

M, my son, is running amok during the service and at one point, runs up to the mini-stage whilst Father P is in mid-flow. M looks out across the congregation smiling beatifically. I skulk over and drag him back. Father P note dryly after the service…. “Well dear, M is so confident and at ease in front of a crowd… I wonder who he gets that from?”

Later that day the phone rings, can I go up to Yorkshire on Wednesday to rehearse with Kanye West? They’ll pay for my travel too. Realise it’s a free trip to see the Grandparents, and since we are sans car since H sold ‘the beast’, (a monstrous Audi RS6), I book a train ticket for tomorrow.

Monday

Rule No.1- very important when using public transport with a small child to always make an effort with ones’ appearance. I have always stuck by this rule and it has never let me down, (apart form once at Syon Park Train Station when we went to see The Butterfly House and there wasn’t another living soul around to help with the pram!).

Lots of kind ladies and gentlemen get me finally onto a train to Yorkshire. (Very cute guy sat behind us….very easy on the eye! Luckily M stands on my knees most of the journey and smiles angelically at him. Think we may have converted him to children….?)

Tuesday

Take M and the grandparents to a petting zoo… Where I rescue a tiny piglet buried under the straw instead of the heat lamp. (Well didn’t actually rescue the piglet myself, but went to find one of the keepers so that he could rescue it!). Felt very at one with Mother Nature after that. (Note to self… think I should buy Country Life next week…).

Wednesday

After about 50 phone messages saying the rehearsal is on/off/on/off, (due to bereavement in the artist’s family) I finally board a hideously small, cramped train to some Godforsaken station sans baby (as he is now with the grandparents). I am wearing a jacket in Yorkshire, hence clearly a foreigner since nobody else is. I am also carrying a violin case and wearing a Bluetooth headset, (an absolute essential bit of kit for a working Rock Chick Mum…!). I get many strange looks and stares from the locals. I try to look non-plussed whilst reading my copy of Country Life (I decided to get a copy right away). I finally arrive at a warehouse type building in good time for the 6.30pm call.

We eventually start rehearsing; I am sat next to an African- American girl who studied at Julliard. This is definitely a first. Slightly scary to play next to as the in-ear monitoring sound is awful and can’t really hear myself and she is such a good player! We are rehearsing on a full size production stage- all the 4 violinists and 1 cellist are required to play inside a Wigwam, whilst your arms and legs straddle outside the Wigwam. Clearly the set designer has never played the violin!!

We rehearse on and on. We have a 20 minute break and think of the overtime. At 04.30am we finish! They minibus us all over to a hotel 1 hour away and I end up sharing a room with another of the violinists- a perfect stranger. We chat and giggle and my mind races about how I can source childcare for tomorrow since they require me then too. I set my phone alarm for 09.15am….

Thursday

Several phone calls later Grandparents will cover until 6pm and a friend can do the evening. Now to tackle Kanye’s production office. I call and say I can stay for the rehearsal providing they pay for my overnight accommodation in Sheffield, with a travel cot and within walking distance from the train station. There is silence at the end of the line… clearly this is a first on a Kanye West tour. A longer pause, and then “Yeah,.. That’s fine, we’ll sort it. Just be at rehearsal”.

So now it’s the dress rehearsal. OK… how do I put this? We are required to wear all in one pale blue lycra cat suits. Someone remarks that we look like condoms- I retort; “Surely ‘sperm’ is nearer the mark?” We climb into the Wigwams to play some tunes.

After a long day, the stranger violinist kindly offers to drop me back at my friend’s house in Sheffield. Gone 10pm we arrive and my angel is fast asleep on the sofa wrapped in a big red blanket. After several cups of tea with my friend and lots of chat, a cab takes me over to the Hotel.

The staff are lovely and even the cab driver helps me in with all my bags. (You have to love Yorkshire people!). A few stragglers glance over from the champagne bar, and I wonder what they must think seeing a girl arriving after midnight carrying a sleeping baby and a violin case on her back…..?

The room is quite lovely, it’s a brand new 5 Star, and my Angel awakes momentarily. As I lie him down in the smart, new travel cot and then flop back on the kingsize bed with my violin case, I reflect on the last couple of days and the wonderful adventures of my life as a Rock Chick Mum!

They are all adventures!

Below is the start point:

At the start of these diaries

I had one husband, ( H-very handy on the DIY front and played a mean piano), a beautiful baby boy, M, who was 21 months old, a cleaner for ½ day a week and exactly one ½ day of childcare and that was it!!! No P.A, no nanny, not even an au pair… (no room for one!). I didn’t even change my handbag every season, since I worked out very early on that if you have a beautiful baby, nobody notices your handbag! Anyway, babies have an uncanny knack of chewing, dribbling and basically ruining your handbag… So why bother with the expense?

So Dear Readers, enough of the diatribe…. Suffice to say I am a mummy and a professional electric violinist and this is my blog.