What's Been Going On With Me...

It's be a while since I've done a chatty update kinda blog but I felt that the time was right to sit down and write some words that hopefully may help some of you out there. During January I made the decision that I was going to start therapy. In the past few years I have changed careers, going from part time to full time and lived through a pretty traumatic accident and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. At times I was miserable. Not "bit grumpy but an episode of TOWIE and some Fruit Pastilles will make me happy". But really miserable. Once I sat fully clothed in the shower for hours. Refusing to leave. Stephen said he would turn it on. I said I didn't care. That kind of miserable.

There were a variety of things that made me feel this way. A culmination of little tiny things here and there that slowly ground me down and messed with my inner workings. Some of them including comments from trolls on threads about everything in my life. From the way I look, to my husband not wanting to sleep me with me, to how I spend my money, to discussing health issues with my daughter. I had got past the point of being able to move on from these comments and they were sticking to me like feathers in tar. I also work in an industry where you are constantly compared and judged. 

Transpires...going away for work alone...is kinda fun!

Dear Mum In The Striped Pyjamas...

Dear Mum in the Striped Pyjamas...

Congratulations! This weekend you get to celebrate your very first Mother's Day! I bet you are basking in the glow of your little one. Feeling relaxed, refreshed and generally being treated like the Queen you are. No? Oh I forgot your child is younger than one. More than likely you are knackered, in your pyjamas again and wondering when it all gets a little bit, well more rewarding?

I am here as the voice of reason and the voice of hope to tell you? It does. At the moment you may be in charge of a new born. Not knowing your arse from your elbow, consumed with a sort of tiredness you never ever knew was possible. Your day is a routine of sterilising and washing. Oh and a bit more washing. Or? You may be trying to wean your little one. Cursing Annabel Karmel and wondering how the hell you get your small child to eat a whole piece of mango. Or you could be at the nine month stage and work is on the horizon. Your stomach is a knot of guilt and each moment is more bitter sweet than the last.

She's asleep! This is a breeze!!! (sound of sh*t hitting a fan)

Why Mother's Day Is SO Important To Mums.

Being a Mum is a funny old job. There are no pay rises if you do something particularly amazing like I dunno, teach your child how to poo in a potty. There's no appraisals and no boss to say "you are doing a bloody amazing job!". It's a 24/7 career and sometimes it can be pretty damn demeaning. From cleaning up sick and wee, to wiping yet another grubby bottom. There's also the element of this vocation which relies on you being able to cope on no sleep and all in all. It can be f*cking exhausting.

I always remember being baffled after my first born. I said to friends "I have been doing everything for this tiny human for six months and am not really getting anything back". OK there was the odd gummy grim (or was that a burp?) and there sometimes a cute giggle (again or was that a burp?). As your children get older of course you get the "I love you" and hugs that knock you off your feet but still no-one really can pin point if you are doing 'it' (whatever it is) right.

My Family. The Sitcom.

When I was growing up there was nothing I loved more than a good old fashioned sitcom about a family. Hands up if you remember 2.4 Children or the wonderful Linda Bellingham portraying a slightly hassled Mum in everything from TV shows to ads for gravy. They were an easy watch and everyone knew that the antics that cropped up weren't real. No-one could have that many family disasters or ridiculous situations in their homes. I used to think that life wasn't really like that was it? As when you are all big and grown up and have kids of your own everything is perfect.

Until I got all big and grown up and had kids of my own and it dawned on me that my own life currently represented a sitcom of epic proportions. But no one was watching it. I wasn't being paid to act out the "hilarious" situations that occurred and more often than not they were far more bizarre than TV ever showed it. Recent episodes include 'The Day The Dog Ate A Grape And Had To Be Rushed To The Vet To Be Made Sick And It Was Pancake Day And The Dog Vomited All Over Dad's Car' or who can forget the classic holiday edition of 'We Went To New York And Along With Our Cases We Also Flew Over Nits'. That was a GREAT one.

Under The Influence

This is a story of my first love. I met a boy when I was in sixth form and I adored him. It was magical...but what I adored more than anything was his parents house. It was amazing. It was three storeys of utter beauty. Every nook and cranny was filled with books, framed posters, art from the places they had visited. Knick knacks on every shelf. God I loved it. And I thought "when I am older that's exactly what I want my house to be like". I wanted people to be able to walk in and see that I had lived, loved and had adventures. Then two years ago we finally managed to buy our very own dream three storey terraced home.

But something had changed. By now I was fully ingrained into the world of social media. And every day I was faced with photos and videos of beautiful houses. With huge kitchens. Immaculate living rooms. It made me look at my house and start to long for more. I would enter a shop and become paralysed. Stop dead in my tracks. The thought processes I began to have were along the lines of "what if I buy the wrong thing?" "why can't I work out what is on trend?" "what the hell do I like?". I began to look at my strange little objects and wonder why they all looked out of place.

I like gnomes. Now back off.