Tag Archives: parenthood

My life, the comedy sketch show.

It occured to me that much of this blogging malarkey is focused around writing about your life. Should anyone actually be interested. But much of what us bloggers write are now well thought out, controversial, educational pieces. That’s when we are not writing reviews. But what about the mundane, everyday realities of life?

“Who wants to read about your life!” I hear you cry.

Well, you for starters otherwise how did you find yourself here eh (winks slyly whilst dodging a virtual slap). So I’ve always had a knack for making my seemingly normal and pretty average life seem a little more entertaining. I don’t know if it’s my ability to see the positive in everything that allows me to give my everyday situation a lighthearted edge. But nonetheless I often feel like if I was starring in my own episode of “Friends” that I may get a few titters if anyone was watching in.

Today has been a fine example. After conquering this mornings toddler meltdown before 6am, I dropped the Georgeous off at preschool. There are some great mums at the preschool and we often have a little chat. We got to talking about my mornings childfree plans.

I’ve got a bit of a crazy week trying to organise the house in prep for going away. We also have a friend coming to fit us a new fence and gate tomorrow. Checkout Bored Monkey UK for your Essex craft and handyman needs.

So I was explaining to my fellow mamas the need to move bits away from the fence in prep. My reluctance being, that I knew a huge spider was living in that vicinity with who knows how many of his mates. One of the mama’s amusingly named him Fred and then off I went home to tackle Fred and his temporary eviction.

Fred was the least of my worries. On the way home I stopped in town to collect hubs meds from the chemist. As I was walking along I noticed a bank note on the floor. With no one close by and it being right in the middle of the path, I picked it up, wondering who could have dropped it. The owner nowhere obvious in sight. On closer inspection it was a Nigerian bank note for 500 Naira. I popped it in my bag and decided to Google its value whilst I was walking along. I wanted to know how much I was dealing with here before deciding how best to find its owner. As much as you can with an abandoned note.

Shit! It came up it’s worth £1,030 great british pounds! I suddenly felt like I was in too deep! Who carries a grand’s worth of note on them. It was fresh, not damp so it’s obviously been dropped recently. Shall I hang around and see if anyone comes wandering back looking for it?

I check for CCTV camera’s thinking the person could maybe find it that way using local shops. I couldn’t see any. I called hubs and he told me if it’s unclaimed after 30 days it’s effectively finders keepers. We have a local Facebook page I could post it to, but how best to word it so I don’t just get a chancer claiming it. After all it’s a currency note. It’s not easy to prove the owner.

Then my little devil kicked in. Of course I would feel absolutely terrible keeping it secret and spending it but we are all guilty of thinking a little naughty sometimes. But that poor person. What did they draw it out for? What was they going to spend it on? But George would love a trampoline and a fancy wooden playset in the garden. Hmmm.

I called hubby back. He’d now pulled over on his way to work as his cogs were turning. The GBP is usually worth more than foreign notes. It doesn’t quite add up. With him on speaker I opened my Google and there it was. In my tired state and not fully concentrating as I was trying not to trip over loose slabs in flip flops I had entered 500,000. My discovery was actually worth just over £1. Not even enough to buy George an ice cream. Laughing at my stupidity, hubs hung up whilst I went home to tackle Fred.

Back home in the garden and Fred is happy to run off once he sees me with the broom. He’s also clearly been taking part in the Healthy Mummy UK eating plan I’ve been following (not an ad, it’s just fab) as he’s now half the size I thought he first was. CHECK IT OUT! Healthy Mummy UK

Fred and his mates had no worries. Whilst I’m not a fan of spiders, I don’t like the idea of killing them if it can be helped. I once missed my train because I was moving a worm out of harm’s way off the pavement. I accidentally squashed a woodlouse and could almost hear the echoes of his (or her) screaming family. I instantly feel dreadful that I’ve killed someones Mum, Dad, brother, sister uncle. The world of woodlouse under my paving slab is mourning his loss this evening.

Jobs done it’s time to bring the child free period to an end. My three hours are up! I’ve achieved what I had hoped, minus making myself look foolish about the note. But before I dash off to pick the Georgeous up I see a large bumble bee scrambling around in the  dirt with a thick cobweb caught on his back leg. I try to help him get it off but he keeps buzzing it me.

“Calm it mate, I’m trying to help you, you stupid fuck” Lord knows what the neighbours are thinking.

After a good few minutes I decide that turning up late to the preschool pick up because I was trying to free a pissed off Bee isn’t going to cut it. My time is well and truly over. Not before I notice a pair of ladybirds shagging on a pallet. Literally never witnessed it in my 34 years. Can cross that off the bucket list now can’t I! And just in case you were wondering…

I’ve since learnt a lot about Ladybirds! The Truth about Ladybirds . Enjoy!

What do you reckon? Did I give you chuckle? Never mind…there’s always tomorrow…

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

The truth about pregnancy

The truth about pregnancy is obviously my truth. I know every pregnancy for every person is different. I’m hoping some women or indeed men will read and relate to this as I like to think I’m being open about the parts people really don’t go into detail about on a daily basis. Let me know what you think. Did you experience anything similar during your pregnancy. Feel free to laugh. I did! Blimey when something less than always pleasant is happening to you for 9/10 months you’ve got to laugh or end up seriously peeved. So here goes.

Anyone else feel like announcing you are having a baby is a bit like telling your parents you lost your virginity. The slightly awkward realisation that everyone is congratulating you on having sex. Like we all know one another is doing it. But to say to the world “hey (little wave), we’ve had sex over here! I mean let’s get a high five for the sex yeah!”

For 9 months I feel like a walking advert for sex. Reasons to have it. Reasons to not have it. I don’t even get paid for advertising space, for the walking advert of magical crap that I’ve become.

Pregnancy

My pregnancy with George could’ve been worse but then if you had seen the state of me! I’ll still tell you now, as magical as it is and I loved feeling bubba move, pregnancy really wasn’t all it cracked up to be. It fucked my body in so many ways. Ways that will never be fixed. Have I come to terms with it? As much as I can. I look at the kid and he was totally worth it. But still.

I think some bodies were made for making and carrying babies and some weren’t. I was the latter. It took us a bit longer than average to conceive and I ended up not being able to feel or use my hands, with a nose even wurzel gummidge would struggle to contend with. Amongst the rest of the swollen crap. Elephants feet, grapes for a bum hole and the purple veiny things taking over my thighs of all places!

But otherwise yeah it was fab. Thankfully I didn’t experience morning sickness. I once vomited at 8 months pregnant and let’s say THAT took me by surprise. I had nausea in the first trimester and migraines but nothing a few fruity polos didn’t sort out.

Pregnancy
Photo courtesy of Little Smilers studio

Then there’s your poo. Everyone knows I love talking about poo. My sis actually feel pregnant 5 months before me so she was able to prep me on the stages of poo your pregnant self goes though. Starting with the “cow pat” phase and ending so elegantly with the constipated haemorrhoids phase. Honestly it’s so hard to poo when you have a ginormous belly in front of you and you ant adequately lean forward.

And don’t think you’ll be done with panty pads either. Oh no. There’s various levels of discharge stages you must experience on top of all the other uncomfortable magicalness. I must’ve wanted to escape my body at least once every 24 hours.

Then there’s the insomnia! Like what the actual fuck! It’s like your body says “hey! You wanna have a baby? Let’s get you used to this sleep deprivation thingy now”! Why! I won’t be growing a human once the baby arrives will I! Let me sleep!

Pregnancy

As glamorous as it sounds, it was. Snuggling into bed with at least 5 pillows behind me to prevent the reflux and heartburn whilst ensuring the Rennie’s could be found in the dark on my bedside table. Then more pillows between my legs and behind my back because oh my gosh your hips and back really like to let you know they are carrying a baby. Then win my hands strapped up in wrist splints for the carpel tunnel syndrome I would just start to snooze and relax. 20 minutes later and a swift lean on my bladder from my wonderful bundle of magic and I needed the loo. This would happen at least 12 times a night.

I often just stayed up because my hands hurt too much if I fell asleep. I’d wake up and have to pull my fingers and rubs and shake my hands in an effort to regain the feeling and remove the pain. Not forgetting the restless legs. Trying to relax and all my legs want to do is kick out and flip around. How hubs didn’t move out is beyond me. And sadly for him there was no spare bedroom. Thankfully I had. A family of foxes living in our garden that kept me entertained in the early hours. Not to mention some epic lightening shows.

But there was MANY positives to being pregnant. Playing with my bubba inside my tummy using a torch or music provided me with hours of joy. Watching and feeling him move inside me and being able to share that with family and friends. Feeling like a superhero being able to grow this amazing human being. Knowing I was their source of everything and taking the responsibility of motherhood the moment I conceived. Feeling so grateful that I had this opportunity that so many women don’t.

Pregnancy

My hair. Oh my hair. I mean it was rather unfair that at a time when my bikini line was about to become like a challenge on the krypton factor to shave, it also started to grow out of control. The boundaries stretched and suddenly my bikini line became a “let’s-venture-down-her-let’s-So there you have it. We had sex! And this is what happened. I’ll save the shit storm that was my labour for another post.
**Edit** I’ve since thought of more delightfulness experienced whilst pregnant. This wouldn’t be the truth, my truth if it wasn’t the whole truth.

  • The weird spotting you get during implantation that makes you think you are about to come on and then you do a test before a night out on the piss only to find you are going to be on the lemonade all night.
  • The way your mouth always tastes like you’ve been sucking on a metal pole for hours.
  • Your superhero sense of smell. You can smell any smell a mile off. I had lots of fun guessing what people were cooking in the next room at lunch break at work.
  • The way you think all your baggy pre pregnancy tops will fit you when your pregnant because it’s just a fatter belly right? Wrong! Under your bra thickens and widens as your ribs expand, sending your organs god knows where and you end up looking like a sausage in a skin that’s too small. And that’s why maternity wear is big business lol.
  • Hot flushes that appear out of nowhere and make you wonder if you are dying of flu whilst you stand there dripping with sweat looking like you’ve got the plague.
  • Your nipples getting strangely darker. Who the heck knows why.
  • The surprise you get when you have your first scan (12 weeks) and you expect them to be al over your belly like they are on the tele and in films and they actually do it under your belly button because surprisingly that’s where the baby is until it grows bigger.
  • The feeling of bubba move and thinking it couldn’t have been further from the “butterflies” people told me I’d feel. It was actually more like bubbles popping.
  • Wondering why my throat was burning of a night and finding out that’s reflux for you.
  • Having hubs have to cut my dinner up towards the end because the carpel tunnel syndrome meant I couldn’t grip properly or feel my damn hands through the pins and needles.

Oh the joys. Until next time…..

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday
Rhyming with Wine