Making A House A Home

We visited our local hospice furniture shop today. It's a great place to find good quality pre-loved furniture. Our one also sells white goods. Most importantly, they deliver! 

I didn't really plan on buying anything but came across a perfect wardrobe so gave in and once again dipped into the very handy overdraft! 

This unplanned purchase put me in a great mood for the rest of the day! It may only be one piece of furniture but it's a lovely piece and it's another step along the road to making this house a home. 

I'm going to paint the wardrobe with chalk paint (once the kids are back to school!) which I've done before to great effect! A fabulous way to revitalise tired furniture! 

All in all a good day.

Friends

You really know who your friends are when something bad happens. 

I feel privileged to have a couple of very old friends who have stuck by me no matter what. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. Quite literally.

I've also had to leave a lot of friends behind to keep myself and my children safe. Sometimes this makes me very sad but sometimes I wonder how I would even begin to integrate my old life and my new. They are poles apart. Would my old friends even be interested in the new "me"?  

Then there's the "friends" that I didn't even know I had. They have been an amazing support to me over the past couple of months. Women who have been in similar situations and have made it through. Not just financial help, but knowing that someone was in my shoes once and has made it through, turned their life around and most of all, is "happy".

I spend a lot of time crying these days and it comforts me to know that one day, I might be happy again. 

Is It Really August?!

The weather would not indicate so! 

It's been a mixed week so far - on Monday we embarked on a trip to a local soft play centre. This went (surprisingly) well despite the extortionate entry fee of £16 plus £1.20 per obligatory "fruit shoot". The children were suitably worn out and we had a quiet afternoon and a DVD. If only every day was like this! 

On Tuesday we headed out early to Lidl and even managed to avoid the middle aisles! I love Lidl. I spent some time living in Germany as a student and it always brings back fond memories shopping there.

Then today the rain set in and we are once again stuck in the house as too wet and too broke to go anywhere! Roll on September!

My Jeans Don't Fit!

In a good way! 

Or perhaps not so good when a new wardrobe is pretty low down the priority list! 

Still - a nice boost and hopefully losing weight will help increase my energy levels (god I need the energy!!!) 

My tummy remains decidedly stubborn and will require some work! I'm thinking of getting back to the gym once my new arrival can go to the crèche. This may seem counterintuitive but I'm hoping the excervise will help lift my mood and some "me time" will also be good. 

I wonder if you can go to the gym just to have a nice long shower and wash your hair in peace........?

And Then There Were Four!

So life now continues as a family of 5, surviving on benefits and trying to make a go of a new life.

I have started to think about how I could return to work. I don't think I can return to my previous profession so I am thinking of either starting something new or even retraining in another field. 

Another fly in the ointment is the new tory benefit cap of £20,000 - which may sound like a lot but includes housing benefit so most people don't see a lot of that. Without going into the ideology of the Conservatives, it's difficult to understand why the cap is made regardless of the size of your family. A couple are capped at the same level as a single mother with 4 children. Explain that to me. 

As a family like mine stand to lose a lot from this policy, I think there will be future implications for women thinking about leaving abusive relationships as the figures just don't add up anymore. 

I'd like to see some protection for such a vulnerable group built into the legislation. If you're reading DC - see what you can do?

The Countdown Begins........

A few weeks before the baby is due I started to feel very anxious about how I would cope with 4 children.

I even considered giving the baby up.

But I plough on with support from an online parenting forum and start organising practical things for the baby. Everyone is very kind and things are donated from nappies to cots. 

I crack on with trying to make the house more liveable. I managed to carpet the stairs, landing and 2 bedrooms initially and then the other bedroom a month later. This is another major hurdle for people starting again from scratch. The abolition of Community Care Grants means that there is no longer any support available to help with the cost of new flooring. If your housing association is like mine, any old flooring will have been removed for health & safety reasons leaving you with bare chipboard and exposed gripper rods. A great combination with small children! 

With a couple of weeks to go before d-day (or should that be b-day?!) I start trying to get some professional support and a referral to social services. This proves easier said than done! 

Eventually social services - or children's services as it is now known meet with me a few days before I go into hospital. 

I'm not going to lie, their initial response was pretty slow and inadequate but in the end they have offered a good package of support and for that I am truly grateful. 

Home Sweet Home

Applying for social housing was fairly straightforward. I filled in the online application and was asked to come for an interview. The housing officer was very sympathetic and advised that she accepted us as "homeless" and would put us in the priority banding.

It was about 5 weeks before a letter came in the post with an offer of a 3 bedroom terraced house. On the worst street in town! 

Initially I was very upset, but after going down to the road and having a walk around - it wasn't that bad. There was a good school about a mile away and the bus stop was close-by.

So I decided to stay positive and start buying as much as I could whilst I was still in the refuge with no bills to pay. 

Our move date was delayed week after week and it became a running joke! Then eventually the housing association confirmed a date to view the property and hand over the keys. You don't get a chance to view before handover here and if you refuse a property without a very good reason, the council can discharge their duty to house you. 

So I arrived at the house on a Friday afternoon, by this stage about 7 months pregnant and with 3 small children in tow. 

The house was filthy.

Disgustingly filthy.

There were gripper rods everywhere just waiting to hurt someone's feet.

There was no hot water or heating as the gas had been capped. 

I signed the paperwork in tears and as soon as the housing officer left, I took the children back to the refuge.

In comparison to the house the refuge seemed like a palace! 

The refuge staff saw the state of the house and given I was heavily pregnant allowed me to stay there until Wednesday which gave me time to clean the place up.

The council were supposed to provide beds as part of their welfare scheme but they were out of stock. So after a week of sleeping on air beds the refuge offered to use their funds to get beds delivered by a furniture recycling charity. I gratefully accepted.

A Fresh Start!

Firstly let me explain that I'm not going to go into any detail about our past, mainly so we cannot be identified but also because after telling my story to so many professionals over the past few months I'm tired of raking up all the painful memories.

Arriving at the refuge I was pleasantly surprised that it was a lovely old house with a big garden and a friendly feel. We went into the office to start completing the paperwork but the children were tired and one had wet themselves on the journey and the baby had soaked through his nappy so I asked if I could change them first. We were shown to our room which was huge and contained everything we needed. I gave the youngest 2 a quick bath and clean clothes all round. In the meantime the support worker had found all sorts of supplies for us from nappies to chocolate! 

This cheered everyone up! 

It was already gone 5pm and I didn't want to take the children out again so I decided to order a pizza and then we could all get an early night. I'd got about £100 cash that I'd managed to escape with but that was it, so it was a hard decision to "waste" £20 on pizza. But I was exhausted - physically and emotionally and I was trying to maintain we were on a fun adventure for the children.

We all slept like logs that night! 

The following morning I wrapped the children up and we went off to explore our new town. It seemed lovely and I knew we would be able to build a life here. The children remained in remarkably good spirits and the refuge had a lovely playroom to keep them entertained! 

A couple of days after we arrived we went to visit a local school. This didn't go well and it was clear that the headteacher  had a pre-conceived idea about what the kind of family who found themselves in a refuge were like. I came away mortified and almost in tears. Although the children were offered places, it was with the afterthought of "if you can't find anywhere else". I decided that I didn't want my children to be made to feel anything other than equal and I found another, more welcoming school the following week. I'll never forget how the headteacher at the first school made me feel. I was already very vulnerable having just escaped and she showed no compassion whatsoever. 

So I settled the children into their new school and we got into a routine. They made friends with the other children in the refuge and I made friends with the other women. At the beginning I would go to bed shortly after the children but I started to join the others in the living room to watch TV in the evenings. 

After about 4 weeks I received a child benefit payment. Until then I had been living off the £100 I came with and foodbank food/nappies etc. At first it was awful - I felt so ashamed that I couldn't provide for my children but the ladies at the foodbank made me feel so welcome. The children would ask for particular food / snacks etc and I just couldn't buy anything. It was heartbreaking but I knew it wouldn't last forever and the foodbank were good at putting some treats in for the kids. 

I used the child benefit money to buy some school shoes and that weekend I took the children out for lunch in a small local cafe. As always, they chose sausages - it was lovely to be able to be "normal" again! The rest went on food until the rest of my benefits kicked in. This took about 6 weeks in all. A really long time when you're in a position like I was. I can see why a lot of women simply give up and go home for financial reasons alone. It's a shame there isn't a fast-track for women fleeing domestic abuse in the benefits system.