tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75747472285837541262024-02-20T02:22:01.795+00:00Day to day living in the nut houseA mums view on life the universe and a small town in NorthamptonshireAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-13979222465401969092016-03-14T18:59:00.000+00:002016-03-14T18:59:46.979+00:00Ways in which we self harm with no weapon...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When we think of the term "self harm" we think of teenagers with razors or addicts refusing to get help, but I think the problem is a far wider one with a good percentage of the population coming under the umbrella of "self harm" at one point or another in our lives.<br />
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For instance who hasn't looked at up an ex just to "see" what ever he or she is doing knowing full well that they have probably moved on with their lives and are seeing other people. We know that seeing this will insight some emotional response mostly we hope the response we want to get from ourselves is contempt or relief but 9 times out of 10 it only gives us pain but we still go ahead and do it.<br />
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I'd like to think that no one is ignorant to the fact that abuse in relationships is not healthy or right and yet there are thousands of people that stay within an abusive relationship with flimsy justifications of why we should stay or how breaking up isn't an option.<br />
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Then there are those people who are spend their lives trying to compete in a contest that no one else is involved in. They spend precious time and energy scratching around for information about a person and then try to compete with that person in an effort to somehow "one up" them and that continuously fails as the target of their obsession is normally ignorant of them and so the person is in a never ending cycle of disappointment and with that further deflating their self esteem and actually harming themselves.<br />
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As I think about these things it seems to me that people feel a need to punish themselves which in turn allows them to feel in control of their own being.<br />
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From the day we are born we are being told what to do by other human beings for good or bad we are instructed in the many ways it takes to become an adult and while for the most part this is done with good intentions and love it is also done with the sense that it must be done, that it is the only thing that is to be done and when the rules aren't followed then punishment of any kind is often quick to follow.<br />
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As adults we are suddenly let out in to the world without further instruction and without the familiarity of rules and punishment which has given us our sense of security for the last 18 years. <br />
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When my eldest child turned 18 last year I was shocked to see the fear on her face at the realisation that she was now solely responsible for herself. Obviously over the last few months she has come to terms with that, reassured by us as parents that we aren't going to just abandon her now she is 18 but also respecting the fact she must make her decisions about where she wants to go and how she wants to proceed with her life. What strikes me is that with that sense of fear she first felt it can be followed by anxiety and the feeling of losing control over the life she's always known and this in turn may bring her to try and emulate the limits and guidelines we have given her while growing up.<br />
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Now we all know that being an adult is nothing like being a child and the rules of the games are not the same so to it makes sense to try and self govern when a world of possibility is opened up to you in one turn of the 24 hour clock and while we may try impose on ourselves values and ideals that we think are right we are often left floundering when things don't turn out how we expected them to. This is when the "self punishment" side of our character kicks in,<br />
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I think we use this as a way to control and correct mistakes we feel we have made. If we can "tell ourselves off" to the point of either mental or physical pain we feel we can make our lives go the way we'd like them to, as in the way we can "sorry" as a child and make everything better again.<br />
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I feel it is good that this is something I am aware of in my own personality, with a constant stream of chatter in my head telling me I'm not good enough the impulse to do things that I know will cause me pain is very strong as a way of a "punishment" to myself. It is a constant thing that I need to remind myself that I am good enough and I am worthy even when I make the occasional mistake.<br />
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I hope I can keep fighting the battle and that I don't get swallowed in to a vicious cycle of mentally self harming myself, as not only will I suffer but my family will suffer too.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-22314208547397672882016-02-22T11:48:00.000+00:002016-03-11T14:12:33.272+00:00Pathological Liars...Is it a disease of the mind?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I know its been a while again with this whole blogging thing but hubbie said something to me this weekend that has got me thinking and also wanting to discuss it a bit.<br />
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On this rare and treasured evening out without our darling children, where we were able to just talk, be together and say what we are thinking, he told me that one of the qualities of me he finds astounding is my ability to "just be me" in all situations.<br />
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With me he sees an honesty about who I am, I don't hide behind lies or masks I am me, take me as I am. He says this is a pure honesty when he sees me in social situations he sees me, Caroline, not a masked person hiding from who they really are, not the joker, or the aggressor, the loud one, the bubbly one, the one who thinks they are gods gift, the mutton dressed as lamb or the one who needs a few glasses of something to relax, he sees just me good or bad, boring or funny, the person he loves.<br />
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As I said before this got me thinking about all those people who front the world with a persona. Those who put on a mask and are so frightened of what people think of them they aren't even able to be honest with themselves. Because being honest with yourself is truly a hard thing to do and if you are constantly lying about who you are, being honest with yourself is even harder as you start to believe your own lies.<br />
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While I understand a lot of people live with this mask thing and 9 times out of 10 it does no harm, I worry about those who are so lost in their ability to recognise who they really are that reality actually slips and all that is left is the persona one that needs constant bolstering and investing in.<br />
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Think about it if you are constantly worrying about letting the mask slip you are actually not getting to enjoy life. Never is this more apparent then the false worlds that are shown via social media the constant need for recognistion as it only seems "fair" that all this effort is going in to make this life seem so amazingly perfect others should admire, appreciate it or even envy it. What happens when these needy people don't get the adulation they think they deserve, they of course go on the attack.<br />
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Liars whether it be outwardly to others around them or inwardly to themselves already have a slight bent towards creating fantasy lives, loves and realities. Social media is a perfect platform for this and mostly can carry on living in their virtual worlds harmlessly. Those pathological liars, liars who've spent their entire lives living in their lies who get called out, shown up, humiliated even, are a dangerous bunch, willing to go to to extreme measures to have their thoughts and fantasies validated again.<br />
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They will attempt to drag anyone and everyone into their dark place to back up their own ideas their own internal thoughts to bring people into their webs so they can continue to hide from themselves because that is their true aim. Spinning tales of fantasy, attacking those who don't accept it, creating further lies to reach those who aren't interested, all these tactics are used purely to bolster the constantly crumbling wall that they are using to protect themselves from essentially themselves. <br />
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Its like the caked on make up on the pretty woman, she has so little self worth, so little belief in herself and is so frightened that beneath it all, there is nothing there that anyone would be interested in. The liars will pile on more and more lies, will work through every angle, try every avenue to bolster the wall and gain the recognition they think they deserve. They will use tactics to try to worm their way into peoples lives they think they can manipulate to hold up their fantasy lives and will try to tear down anyone lives they perceive as a threat to their made up realities. <br />
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So my question is, is this a sickness, a mental illness, or are they just born this way? also how the hell do we keep ourselves away from them, protect our children from them and recognise one when it comes our way? <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-32133020942936512392014-12-09T12:18:00.000+00:002014-12-09T12:18:01.432+00:00Living with Mother <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ok so I am 18 months into living with my mother, and while for the most part things are going well, there is always the odd thing that leaves me pondering what I am going to be like when I am 70.<br />
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For instance the charity shop mug buying. Lately Mum has decided that visiting the charity shop once a week "to see what they've got in" is a necessary part of life and invariably she'll come home with some weird and wonderful mug that someone else has chucked out for whatever reason and she'll stick it in the cupboard with all the purposefulness of "there see what I've bought you" while I am left wondering a. did we need another mug and b. why does she keep buying them when she only ever uses the one mug and never deviates for love nor money from this favoured mug, thus leading me to believe she must think I am missing something from my life and clearly a mug from the charity shop will full fill it.<br />
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Then we have the tidying up, the shoe polishing and the dishwasher. While I'd be the first to admit I am not the tidiest of people I don't actually believe I let things slide that badly, and while I appreciate the help she offers sometimes with keeping things under control she does drive me up the fecking wall when she gets "busy" with my washing, or the cup and plate I've been using or when the kids have left their shoes not quite in the cupboard. Its the huffing and puffing the accompanies this task that drives me up the wall. The "actually, I'm feeling really poorly and I shouldn't have to be doing this for you" speech I get as she shuffles over to a napkin that Chip has just accidentally dropped on the floor leans over with a dramatic flurry sighing and mumbling about passing out as she does it. GRRHH Mum, I didn't ask you to do this, you are not my cleaner PA that must follow mine and the kids footsteps in case we might make a mess. I wouldn't mind, but if you go in to her "areas" of the house its not exactly a palace of perfection and she's quite a messy person on the quiet.<br />
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I have to spend quite a bit of time reminding myself I am 40 years old not 14 and that I am a capable, productive member of this family and society and that she's only doing this stuff and moaning about it because she is finding it difficult not being able to be as productive as she used to be and so because she's so full of her own self doubt about having a valuable place in the family, she's constantly trying to undermind my place in the family and we come to blows when she can't.<br />
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She wants Hubbie to take her side on all things, how I behave, how the kids behave, what the animals do and whose fault it all is. When one of the biggest changes to our lives is that Hubbie no longer believes the crap she talks and moans about me, whereas before he and I would argue because she'd wound him up against me, and, at the end of the day if all those things she complains about or feels I am unjust about if they were really true or really that bad, he and I would never have got back together and she wouldn't have asked to live with me.<br />
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While I know I am not perfect I am grateful that Hubbie now doesn't allow the bitchness and stabbing in the back my mum has a habit of doing to both her daughters about both her daughters to effect him and wound him up anymore. Also she needs to learn that while he doesn't think the sun shines out of his kids bottoms only he and I are allowed to say anything that isn't positive about them. It is the nature of the beast in the fact that most us believe our children are a direct reflection on ourselves so cussing them is cussing us as well something no one likes. Only my Mum can't see that moaning about the way my sister and I behave and bitching about us behind our backs only serves to make her seem either a useless mother or the reason we turned out the way we did.<br />
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Anyway these are all little and annoying things that I am living with on a daily basis not to much to worry about and not that bad. Just a little irritating if you know what I mean lol.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0Thrapston, Kettering, Northamptonshire NN14, UK52.394588 -0.5358589999999594552.355832 -0.61653999999995945 52.433344 -0.45517799999995945tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-89421390762881123622014-09-30T12:56:00.000+01:002014-09-30T12:56:26.533+01:00September school blues<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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AAAAAHHHH frustrated...<br />
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How are you guys? I know its been awhile since I have blogged again, my work rate is, how shall we put it "inconstant"? at the best of times. But I am here now ready to vent, I mean discuss various topics in a sensible manner.<br />
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So they've been back at school a month. Biggest has started her A-levels which she is enjoying, I think being able to concentrate on the fewer subjects and they also being ones she really enjoys has focused her mind and she seems to have settled in well. Middle one is the last year to have been moved to the middle school. Which much to most of the locals are disgusted is being closed down in favour of the two tier system rather than the three tier system we currently have.<br />
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He's finding middle school holds all the challenges you'd expect. The building is alot larger, there are more teachers and the homework is alot harder. While he is still up for the challenge, he is finding it a challenge though his peers seem not to have noticed, having voted him to be class Representative for the school council and generally being seen as a good friend and nice person. He lets off the pressure at bit at home, which is fine, but sometimes getting snapped at by my usually placid child takes me by surprise.<br />
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Little bit on the other hand is a law unto himself. He just doesn't like being told what to do, following rules or generally being bossed around. Which at school you are gonna get from time to time..<br />
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He hasn't quite figured it out yet if you bend to the system the system will bend to you. Tonight I am going in to see his teacher for the 2nd time in as many weeks if only to plead my case on what the heck am I suppose to do with him? He's a sweet boy, with a big heart and inquisitive mind who just has a very strong opinion of himself. He wants to have friends, be social and enjoy life, but he finds things so frustrating when they don't go the way he thinks they ought to, He struggles with a few social concepts not understanding what others might be thinking and also while he tries his hardest to empathise with his peers, sometimes he just "doesn't get it" and this frustrates him further.<br />
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He doesn't like to push himself preferring to step back and allow others to show him when he and they both know he is capable of whatever it is he wants to achieve. He lacks confidence in his abilities so tends to hide behind people letting them shine while keeping himself to himself.<br />
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He's so able, soaking in knowledge all the time and having a far greater understanding for what is going on around him but refusing to show it, almost as if he knows if he allows people to see what he is capable of then they will expect that from him more and he just doesn't want to give it.<br />
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How frustrating, he's intelligent, bright, engaged, loving and generous of spirit but doesn't want anyone to know that about him. What do I do with that, how do I make him see that allowing people to see him for himself doesn't mean he'll be stuck doing things he doesn't want to do. How do you explain that to a 6 year old who spends his life thinking everyone is just trying to boss him around for the sake of it.<br />
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AAGGGHHAAAGGHH<br />
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Keep your fingers crossed for me his teacher has some thoughts because I am at a loss.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-72694502150481945852014-05-08T10:47:00.001+01:002014-05-08T10:47:42.280+01:00Living with "The Brain"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ok I have just googled living with someone who is smarter than you. It dropped me to a "Prince" fansite forum. I should have just stopped reading there really. Along with the "Prince" fan club there were a few pages on, dating someone more intelligent, get yourself more intelligent, find someone more intelligent, is some one more intelligent better in bed, you know the stuff, and having scrolled past these annoying links I found a void, nothing, nada which leads me to writing this blog post.<br />
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Firstly I don't consider myself particularly dumb, and I am betting most of you reading this don't think you are either and we are all probably right. In Western society intelligence isn't as high on the priority list of things that make your life a success as it is in the East. We Westerners tend to value assets, wealth and good looks over higher brain function. Aspiring to be more Katie Price or Kim Kardasian than great thinkers. I know I know there are exceptions, of course there are. But living with a teenage girl, hair and makeup still come up way to high on the list of things that are important in her life than I'd like them to.<br />
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Anyway back to my point. We are a family that value education and experience, we are a family that encourages lateral thinking in all our children, while trying to lower their materialistic wants, we go for walks, we explore, we invite opinion and we respect their values and encourage them to express and grow them. Which is great and exactly what we wanted to do as parents but as the second born is starting to come in to his own regards his footprint on the world its definitely becoming more of a challenge. Let me now introduce a further dynamic in to this scenario. Daddy is a big brainer, daddy has a monster IQ. Now this is a blessing and a curse for us all. Living with someone who, while has always respected people, but felt always able to think 12 steps ahead of them, is not easy. We all love daddy's big brain, we all use it for our own selfish needs and we all get frustrated with it when it doesn't have the answer we are looking for or isn't working very well. Poor daddy has to deal with this as his family, and sometimes even daddy gets frustrated with his brain too. <br />
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Living with a man who is very smart should come with its own handbook and while these web pages claim to be able to tame the brain I would beg to differ somewhat. So this is my guide to living with someone smarter than you.<br />
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Step one: Keep a list, mental or paper of exactly where he/she has put their stuff because at some point you will be accused of moving it and not remembering where you have put it, even through you haven't been near said item for 6 months.<br />
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Step two: Let them get on with it, when intelligent children are arguing with intelligent parent, stay the hell out of it. Otherwise they'll both either look at you like you've gone mad, start shouting at you that "clearly you don't understand" or ask your opinion (this is almost the most deadly thing that can happen around a dinner table)<br />
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Step three: Live with the fact that you intelligent partner will have massively high expectations of you. Ultimately they've decided to shack up with you, and as they are intelligent this must be the right decision therefore if at any point you fall below practically perfect or almost as good as them, they will get all flustered and start doubting their decision making ability and then the world will start caving in on itself.<br />
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Step four: Improve you memory. Living with someone with a massive brain means you need to remember stuff, events, birthdays, days planned out, anything day to day or mundane. They are far to busy thinking about all the outcomes of every possible eventuality in every possible parallel universe and therefore can't possibly remember its your mother's birthday next week. Please don't expect them to its just not going to happen. <br />
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Step five: Explain what you want from them clearly, concisely and to the point. Don't be all wishy washy with your own needs, tell them when you are upset but don't do it wild man of Borneo style, it just won't get through. Explain why you need them to do a certain thing, or why they have to be in a certain place at a certain time, but don't go giving them the entire back story as to why this needs to happen, they'll just switch off and start daydreaming about something else and then they will miss the important thing you wanted to tell them, keep it short.<br />
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Now if I can just stick to this 5 step plan myself harmony in the home won't even need to be thought about. <br />
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Always looks so easy when its written down doesn't it......</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-9657843940866484012014-03-24T20:22:00.000+00:002014-03-24T20:22:15.951+00:00Pass me the illegal diet pills please...its an emergency<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know, I know, we've finally jumped on the band waggon, we've given in to peer pressure, we admitted things may not be perfect.<div>
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Yes I am talking about the dreaded "weighty" issue of the family's diet. </div>
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For the last few weeks the slim-est member of the family has been commenting on how he looks in the mirror, and has also been trying very hard in a house chocked full of scrumptious goodies to eat better (while still refusing most veg and fruit, but that's a tale for another time). Totally understandably the will power of a nine year old isn't massive and when home time comes round and a quick sugar boost via a chocolate biscuit is calling to him, he's been relenting. </div>
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This hasn't made him very happy with himself, couple that with the fact the words "beer belly" have been mentioned a few times and on my birthday my darling 5yr told me his birthday wish was that my tummy was thinner, the whole family are on a change for life, eat healthier road.</div>
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We been at it 2 days....</div>
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Seriously 2 days in and I am feeling like crap, apparently this is "normal" while my body adjusts to digesting this new food, its not filling me with encouragement.</div>
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Sunday lunch yesterday consisted of ham, chicken, tuna with various salad ingredients, you should have seen the kids faces...the despondent look of its cold AND green, was palpable over their cute little mooshes. Oh how we grown ups giggled....we're eating healthier now, we said, you'd better get used to this, we smirked, this is what you are going to be living on from now on, we threatened. </div>
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As we all crunched, lapped and admittedly some of us picked at our lunch this slightly panicky feel swept over me. Was this it? was I never going to be able to enjoy a meal again EVER, but I brushed it aside and licked the last dregs of tuna from the bowl. </div>
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By 5pm us grown ups were STARVING but we kept our word and didn't eat any crap that night. It really helps if you don't actually have any left in the cupboards anyway.</div>
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This morning the kids went off to school, with a healthy breakfast and the thoughts of delicious hot school dinners swimming through their heads, and I wasn't jealous at all as I watched them go in with my belly growling rather loudly. </div>
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We (the grown ups) had salad again for lunch, this time with the tuna and I added a boiled egg, salt and pepper and a smidgen of salad dressing. It was delicious and when BD asked my mother to join us I wasn't best pleased as I could probably have eaten the entire salad to myself and while willing to share with the man in my life, my mum would just go an eat a cream cake afterwards so whats the bloody point. </div>
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Anyway the point being is I then after my almost satisfying lunch went on the exercise bike for 45 minutes and thought I was actually going to die. Never have I sweated so much, or got the shakes so bad, is that normal for salad eaters as well? (still not loving this, really hope it gets better). </div>
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After my slight panic attack on the exercise bike it was time to get the boys and I needed to go to the shop and get a couple of bits, while in there the boys chose themselves some sweets and as I was standing in the queue my eyes came to rest on a container full of Cadburys caramel eggs, 3 for a £1, REALLY !!! I slipped 3 in to my hand and walked up to the counter hoping BD wouldn't spot me.....he did.</div>
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No sooner had the man taken my money, I was unwrapping and ramming that chocolate egg in to my face..call it weak will, call it a fail after only 2 days, but I'm due my period so I call it sanity, and diets don't disappear there's always tomorrow....</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-26794473804327276242014-03-12T12:53:00.002+00:002014-03-12T12:53:42.415+00:00Its not me, its you....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The house is quiet, the washing & dishwasher are on and I am
sat here looking through my photos when this over whelming urge to rant has
come over me. So sorry bloggerasphere as you are my ranting forum here
goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Have you ever heard of the type of people that will push their
thoughts, feelings and insecurities on to others so they don't have to actually
accept them and deal with them themselves? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I cannot stand it when people, who have no clue what my life is like
or walk in my shoes, who quite frankly don't even know me, think they can pass
judgement or make assumptions about me. These people are of course
oblivious to the obvious short comings of their own self’s and prefer rather
than having to look at the harsh reality that is their failures in life,
instead choose to find ways to poke holes in and criticise everybody else’s.
Then on top of that try to make out that somehow it’s actually you doing the criticising
and poking holes in to their lives. Like somehow they are the victims and
if only you would leave them alone it would be fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">It seems that no matter what I post on Twitter someone will continually
take it as a personal attack on themselves. I mean how conceited can you
be to assume my posting a picture of my kids or mentioning a day out planned is
only to "hurt" and "aggrieved" another person who has
nothing to do with my life. How can someone who doesn't know me who
hasn't ever been in my life continually accuse me of lying about the things
that have happened to me. To then take those same things and judge me as
a failure as a person and as a mother because I allowed them to happen.
To then also accuse me of making my life in to a fairy tale of blissful
happiness, to then attack my appearance, to call me names, to belittle my
feelings and then to accuse me of playing victim and a bully (how can I be both
for god sake). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Apparently I am an insecure, hypocrite, who is a skank, a bad role
model for my f*cked up daughter, I am a liar, I am also a lard arse chav
covered in spots, tattoos & going bald. I pretend to be a victim when
actually I am a control freak bully who sponges of my mother and pretends to
work for a living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And this is only the recent stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Arguably the elephant in the room is this, why am I still reading
this shit. My only defensive such as it is, is I am masochistic (well I
must be mustn’t I lol) The sensible side of my brain has told me time &
time to stop as has my beautiful loving man, who thinks the world of me.
But like annoying scab that I want to get rid of I keep picking at
it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I'm pretty sure it’s being done for attention, a chance to get a
reaction, to make an impact on a life that isn't anything to do with them.
We've all been hurt in life we've all been trod on and made to look a
fool, but I never did this to her, she spent months trying to get him back,
emails, texts, letters, videos of herself. All the while continually
attacking me, attacking my children and trying to ruin 5 lives 3 of which are
totally innocent. Except apparently my daughter is alcoholic whore who
needs help fast according to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I can only suppose that the fact this all failed has pushed her to
go even further like planning to move closer to where we live. I am genuinely
frightened, this woman is nuts, has no concept of boundaries of what is appropriate,
of letting go even. She has an extremely over inflated opinion of herself
and just cannot accept that I am loved, I am on the planet and that I could
achieve even a modicum of success in my life and if I do it’s a total affront
to her sensibilities and I should be chastised over it immediately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">No doubt this blog post will cause uproar again with emails flying
this way and that, threats being made and accusations being hurled again.
But this is my life, this my blog and will post on it whatever I choose.
If people want to read it that’s fine I don't force them to, I don't
mention names or give indications to anyone’s identities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">It’s a story, an open letter, a parable, a diary entry and it makes
no reference to anyone in particular. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-29293083100205426782014-03-10T12:49:00.000+00:002014-03-10T12:49:14.260+00:00Turning the big 40 & what it means for a woman.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This weekend I hit the big 4.0 !! I know hard to believe its finally arrived, middle age..eek. <br />
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To be honest though I think I am in a better place turning 40 than I was turning 30. 10 years ago I was fairly newly married had a young child and was pregnant with my second. It wasn't an easy pregnancy being as I was poorly through most of it and so I spent the first part of my 30th year being either sick or at the hospital getting check ups while also dealing with a grieving husband whose Father had died 3 weeks after we found out we were expecting. Then over the next few years came the ups and downs of new babies, house moves and feelings of loneliness and separation. <br />
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Today as I start my 40's my children while still young are a lot more independent of me. Our family unit is complete and everyone is just getting on with the business of growing up. Yes of course there are still the daily stresses that everyone goes through. I live with my mother for goodness sake so I know all about them, there just isn't the emotional upheaval there was 10 years ago. <br />
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If I look back on that time with a honest appraisal I can clearly see how things between hubbies and I went so down hill. Neither of us were prepared for what losing a parent while gaining a child would do to us emotionally and mentally. While we thought we were probably coping ok, we were in actual fact feathers on the wind being blown this way and that managing to connect briefly only to be pushed apart by another big gust of wind ie work, money worries, demands of family raising, other ties with people and each other if I am honest. The fact we managed to get through any of it is a pure and simple testimony to how much we love each other.<br />
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When we first met 15 years ago it felt like old souls reunited through reincarnation with a deep and basic need for each other that surprised both of us, as I don't think either of us had experience such a depth of emotion for anyone else in our lives before. In actual fact as time has gone on and with all we have put each other through that basic primal need for each other is still as strong as ever. <br />
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So here I am starting my 40's with "the love of my life" (not words I say lightly by any stretch of the imagination) by my side ready to hold my hand while we walk forward towards the rest of our lives. We have promised to be good to one another, to not take each other for granted, to support each other and to never let the other one face anything alone. We have plans to travel as soon as the youngest is old enough. China is our first port of call then off to the other parts of the Far East. We plan to share the joys of grandchildren together whenever they turn up and we plan to always take time for one another and never again get so wrapped up in our own heads that we stop the most important people from getting in close.<br />
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For this year and for the next few we've still got to see our babies through puberty, first loves, exams, university and everything else they'll need to get them to adulthood. Which is its own adventure, and when that's done we can look forward to our time together to feed our thirst for new & for learning. There's no fear now, no insecurity, its as if the circle has come back on its self. I laugh when I catch him looking at some skirt, he's a man they all do it that doesn't mean for 1 single second he would rather have that and lose me, in fact I know that for sure he doesn't want anyone else, he has proved that time and time again. He knows how much I love him too, he's not worried or insecure about who I am or what I think. He doesn't fret if I don't phone, or immediately assume I am going to do the dirty on him. All that pressure and fear we put on each other before is just gone, wiped clean. <br />
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Don't get me wrong, I still have my days, my hormones are a bastard but eventually even that will pass, he just has to avoid me for a few days each month till it clears and I have to keep taking those vitamin B's lol<br />
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All I can say is hello 40's I've got the door wide open and I am welcoming you in because I'm a little bit older and a little wiser and I ready to face whatever you throw at me...<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-49950641392353407732014-03-05T12:37:00.001+00:002014-03-05T12:37:30.784+00:00Do you baby your youngest child ? Dealing with a bright child..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I made an appointment to go and see the youngest ones teacher this week. Not so much to have a moan but more to get the opinion of someone who interacts with my son on a daily basis who might not have such rose tinted glasses as mine are.<br />
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What she had to say while sort of helpful didn't really hit the nail on the head for me as much as I would have liked. Basically she said he was a well behaved child in school who pretty much did as he was told, didn't moan alto, is able to concentrate and is a bright kid. All pretty positive so I asked her to try to think of a reason why he insists he doesn't want to come to school. <br />
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She suggested that it might be a maturity issue, which when I got home gave me serious food for thought. Do I baby him? As my youngest child I am aware of the fact that I am trying to hold on to the little boy as much as possible. With no plans to have anymore he is my baby. But am I holding him back because of it?<br />
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He's a very bright kid, its regularly commented on by friends and relatives how bright he actually is, which his reasoning and reading ability does suggest. He's also quite highly strung with a tendency to get frustrated very quickly if he feels his opinions or voice isn't heard or understood the way he feels it should be. This means that many a time I am sitting with him trying to explain to him an idea or a decision while he is trying to argue the point from his perspective. This can become incredibly futile with no positive outcome and so more often than I probably should I coincide to his point of view and we end up doing things his way. Is that babying him?<br />
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Its almost as if he sees the regular jobs, ie dressing yourself, brushing your own teeth, putting your own shoes on, as far to mundane and time consuming and that instead he would rather fill his time up with the more interesting experiences of playing his computer games, reading his books, or playing with his kitten. It feels to me like he just doesn't see the point of it all, like life is too short to be worrying whether you've washed behind your ears, and as much as we the parents try to explain the whys and what fores of the importance of getting dressed quickly, leaving for school on time or not stopping every 5 minutes on the walk to school to look at the flowers, its like he just doesn't get it.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, he always wants to help cook dinner, he can see the point in that. He keeps his room tidy, he sees the point in that. He cares and looks after the animals in the house as best he can, he can see the point in that also, but he just doesn't see the point in school. He's totally convinced he knows everything he needs to know so doesn't see why he has to attend. He's happy playing by himself doing his own thing so the whole friends thing doesn't bother him, he'd rather be playing with kids older than himself anyway and the structure of the school day just fills him with foreboding.<br />
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Its hard everyday trying to explain why he needs to do something that goes against every fibre of his being, that he just sees as pointless and futile all the while knowing that he is a bright kid who probably does get a bit bored at school, that is slightly socially awkward because his brain works at 15 times the pace of everyone else. I don't think I baby him, I think I handle and understand him better than they do at school and I think that is the reason he struggles so much. <br />
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At home I can calm him when he's frustrated, I listen to his points of view and while at times I do get frustrated with his stubbornness I can also work around it to get to a point we are both happy with. I just don't think they get that about him, I also think he bottles up all frustrations through out the day and then at home time just explodes with the of ideas, points and valuable arguments that he is unable to discuss at school, which sometimes makes me feel like I should have left him there for them to deal with.<br />
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I am hoping that the current bribe for a reward at the end of the week if he goes in everyday without fuss will have given him a routine he can get his head around. For while I understand that in society we have rules and we all must conform to some degree. I, in no way wish for his indomitable spirit of free thinking, independence and thirst for gaining new ground for himself to be in anyway crushed.<br />
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I am not babying him I am allowing him to express who he is as a person and let his mind reach all the conclusions and evaluate all of the issues it wants to while I take care of his bottom wiping...</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-74106539156773875072014-02-13T17:11:00.001+00:002014-02-13T17:11:18.068+00:00I think I'd rather have wrinkles than spots...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know most people would probably disagree but as least wrinkles would give me more a look of wisdom and knowledge rather people associating me with the mental capacity of a teenage monkey.<br />
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I don't understand, I spent most of my teenage years with acne free skin, why is it that I reached my mid 30's and now I have to endure the never ending "pizza face" experience.<br />
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Its started mainly in my mid 30's, purely coincidentally at the time I had my 3rd child and we moved 75 miles from "home". Now I know what you are going to say and I agree stress may have been the trigger that brought about this change in my hormonal make up or it might be the ageing process. But come on spots at 30+ no fair..<br />
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It was 3 years ago on my 37th birthday that things came to ahead, that's when my then 13 year old daughter saved up some money from her Christmas presents and for my birthday bought me some expensive face creams, trail size and said "mum why don't you give these ago to see if it helps". At that point I realised for my own self esteem and to be a good role model I needed to start taking better care of myself and that meant getting my skin under control.<br />
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I started doing some research and talking to various friends which lead me to Glycol Acid as a starting point. I was very nervous at first the thought of putting acid of any kind on to my face seemed like a counter productive thing to do. I started of with cleansers and moisturisers with a 10% Glycol mix and immediately there was some stinging on first application that quickly subsided and after 2 days I did start noticing some peeling.<br />
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Within a month I felt my skin texture was better and the break outs had subsided, but I had to make the decision as to whether the expensive creams were doing the trick, whether I could afford it or whether my skin was just going through a good patch. When I ran out of the products I'd bought I didn't replace them and went back to my usual routine of washing my face with normal soap and not moisturising. Within a couple of weeks my skin was back to being as bad as before.<br />
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This crystallised my mind on the subject, if I wanted my skin to look better I needed to invest some time and money in to it. Over the last few years I have tried various products and even had complete breaks from doing anything. I have discovered that I have had increase the percentage of various acids that I use in the creams and cleansers also alternating them with products specifically designed to peel and target problem areas.<br />
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I am currently using Peter Thomas Roth product pads which has glycol, <span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><b>Salicylic </b></span>and hydrochloric acid mix and it is a strong formula that I would only recommend to those with real problems not a few blackheads. A Murad lotion that stays on the skin and Alpha H moisturiser, which has been my favourite from the start it's light, absorbs easily and doesn't leave a greasy film (worth every penny !!)<br />
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My skin is back under control more or less, though I have a lot of scaring which I have to try to break down with a dermabrasion roller but that really didn't work for me. So currently I am looking in to ways to improve the texture of my skin and try to eliminate some of the scaring.<br />
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Its a long process and an expensive one, but I am glad I am doing it, its the one thing I put my foot down and won't give up so the kids can have an new game or fancy clothes for. You wear your face to the world everyday of your life and its worth investing in..<br />
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Here are the links to the products I use:<br />
<a href="http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/cPath/100_288/products_id/5173">http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/cPath/100_288/products_id/5173</a><br />
<a href="http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/cPath/100_288/products_id/4115">http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/cPath/100_288/products_id/4115</a><br />
<a href="http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/products_id/11395">http://www.salonskincare.co.uk/product_info.php/products_id/11395</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-40708224476067448402014-02-12T20:30:00.000+00:002014-02-12T20:30:02.242+00:00Meeting my mother-in-law again, teaching me about alzheimers and dementia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Through no fault of anyone really but through circumstances I haven't had very much contact with my kids Nanny on their Dads side. A little dot of a woman, who in my memory of her when him & I first got together was fiercely protective of her family and very proud of her kids. She always struck me as someone not to mess with, but if she accepted you she'd be as welcoming and loving as if you were her own flesh and blood. <div>
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Now this woman, who'd worked all her life, who had a wicked sense of humour and a sharp eagle eyed brain, came to visit us for the first time in 3 years. Hubbie had told me that she was suffering with Alzheimer's and dementia and over the last few years it had really taken its toll. He warned me that she might not know who I am or that she might say something inappropriate so I was fairly apprehensive about the visit.</div>
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Having heard about Alzheimer's from the media and from friends who work in the elderly care industry, I knew that she might become quite upset if she felt lost or she didn't comprehend what was happening around her which is totally understandable. I was worried that the kids would freak her out, or not be gentle and frighten her with their loud boyish behaviour. She is very very fragile, being very underweight but apart from needing to bulk up a bit she is surprisingly fit ( well maybe not surprising, she has good strong Irish genes running through her core ). </div>
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Anyway I really didn't need to worry about any of these things. After the long journey up Hubbie brought her in to the house and while she looked tired, she immediately gave me a massive cuddle, and said "I haven't seen you for such a long time Caroline" I nearly burst into tears there and then.</div>
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We settled her in with a cup of tea, I put her slippers on for her and the kids settled down next to her on the sofa. For the next few hours we talked, drank tea and smoked cigarettes (in the garden). Rather than being overwhelmed by being in a strange environment she seemed to relish it, constantly remarking on how lovely the house is, rather than not remembering who I was, it was if I had seen her last week with the warmth and friendship still strong. The children adored being with her and she in turn was gentle and calm with them, watching them playing and commenting on how like their father they are at the same age (like we all didn't know lol) </div>
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I found her a proud woman still, wanting to be productive and feeling apologetic when I would help her, though I constantly told her it was my pleasure. She couldn't quite remember the names of all our animals though to be fair I have trouble sometimes, but she would ask their names when she'd forgotten them as it seemed knowing this was important. Sometimes I would look at her and she seemed lost in thought which maybe she was, but she would come round quite quickly when she saw a familiar face which I was grateful mine was one of them. There was none of the aggression that I had read about, and I tried to involve her with all the conversations that were going on, asking her opinion or her advice, or asking her to draw on a memory from long ago. We talked of Hubbies dad and how she always wishes him a goodnight still, and the day he left our lives. I told her I think he's been to visit since then and that pleased her.</div>
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So for me it seemed for the most part she was lucid, engaged and involved with the family and not this distant vacant shell of a person I was worried I would find. For the most part she was still my mother in law of old. But sometimes, when she got tired, or when the kids had got too much, she seemed to lose herself, and where she was, the confusion clouded her face but I would spot this quickly, draw her attention and engage her again and this seemed to help a great deal.</div>
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It was a lovely 2 days, and I was extremely proud of how the kids fussed and showered Nanny with affection, sometimes to the point it left her speechless. We all agreed that the trip had been a success and that Nanny was to definitely come and stay again, hopefully her second visit will be as successful, as she's already mentioned a BBQ in the summer and I suggested a little walk round our lovely town as well for next time.</div>
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We don't have links to the past for long and I am just so glad we've still got enough time for the children to benefit from both Nanny's and to get to know both sides of their heritage, she also allows me a little look into where my Hubbie comes from too :-).</div>
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Roll on the next visit, though will remind Hubbie to bring her coat with next time bless her and I will make sure there is lots of bacon in lol !!!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-77266385444199163412014-02-06T14:29:00.000+00:002014-02-06T14:29:28.759+00:00The 10 years plus Valentine's poem<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There is no man other than you, even after all we've been through<br />
No man who makes my heart flutter, who I'd live with in the gutter<br />
No man whose pants I sniff to see, if they are clean or dirty<br />
No man whose spots I squeeze or eyebrow hairs I'd pluck<br />
No man whose arse I'd rescue if ever he got stuck<br />
No man whose tea I make with a dash of love<br />
From round the world and up above<br />
No man who makes me laugh and weep<br />
Who snores so loud and stops my sleep<br />
No man who puts up with all my worries<br />
Who copes with me and my spending flurries<br />
No man whose dreams I cherish as if they were my own<br />
Except the man I married and only him alone.<br />
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Love you<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-7857720922073419512014-02-04T19:50:00.000+00:002014-02-04T19:50:30.496+00:00Lessons in love, the things the films don't teach us.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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An open letter to the one I love</div>
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Where to begin, well one could almost start at my conception because my parents did love each but I think that might be a bit too far back. So I will start with the first heartbreak....<div>
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My daughter is 16 now this was the age I had my first serious boyfriend and we dated for 2 years. If you ask me now why we were together for that long I couldn't for a second tell you but we were and inevitably as these things often do things fizzled out between us and we went our separate ways. I then met a boy and fell "in love" again (well at least I thought I was in love) we were together 2 years, moved out and then 3 years later my eldest was born. I was 23, not old but not excessively to young either. At first glance we would have seemed a normal young couple with an adorable baby in tow. We both had good jobs, a house with a mortgage and did everything normal families do spending lots of time with each others in laws, family holidays and nights on the sofa. But as the years rolled by I realised this guy I was with, the father to my beautiful daughter wasn't who I thought he would be, I know this sometimes happens when couples have a baby. There was no passion in our relationship, no spark or fire. He was totally closed off with his feelings, never sharing moments with me. I would look at our daughter and a rush of love would overcome me and I would kiss her all over, he would look at her and there was nothing but a blank stare. Maybe he was too young to have kids, he never told me he loved me and he never told her either. I got more and more depressed and lonely as time went on, no fairy tale for this 26 year old.</div>
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In the meantime a guy had started work at the place I worked at. I didn't pay much attention to him at first, I was to busy with my little girl and feeling sorry for myself but then he came to work in the office where I was and for the first time since he'd started we actually had a chance to talk. In the first few weeks I found out we had lots of likes and dislikes in common but our lives were polar opposites of each other. He went out partying every weekend and I was home with my baby, he still lived at home with his parents, I had a mortgage and in laws to deal with. So while we made each other laugh and we began to enjoy each others company there were a good few things about each other that the other one couldn't agree with (I should have seen the signs lol). Time went on and I started to enjoy going to work a hell of alot more, looking forward to catching the ten minutes chat with my new "friend" and slowing but surely we began the age old ritual of flirting. </div>
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By the time I'd realised I had grown to have deep feelings for this guy, things at home for me where horrible and he'd also broken up with his long term girlfriend. So in March 2001 I decided I had enough of trying to make it work with a guy who spent as little time with me and his daughter as possible and who would spend every night with his back turned away from me, I was 27 for god sake not 87 and still wanted a life. I left with a few possessions, the baby and the dog and went back to my mum's. Within a week the "office guy" and I had our first date. He told me afterwards that he'd spent a long time erming and arring about whether getting with me was really such a good idea, considering I was the bosses daughter and he was a mere lackey.</div>
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Within two months of us "dating" he went down on one knee and proposed and of course I immediately accepted, I knew I loved him, he was amazing with my daughter and they adored each other and he made me feel loved, wanted, interesting to talk to and worth spending time with. We were married just 6 months after that first date (he wanted sooner but I wasn't going to rush my wedding day to much lol). We moved into our own home just days before the wedding and settled in to family life quickly.</div>
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I wish I could say its been a fairy tale ride since then, but nobody gives you a guide on how to love another person, we don't get taught it as part of the curriculum. Two further babies later though and I can honestly say we have made each other work for our love. We have pushed each other to beyond our limits, to dark dark places and in to the arms of others but still the pull of those strings of love, the bonds that tied us first together are as strong as ever. </div>
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And as each year, each month, each day that passes, we learn together, we grow together. We still fight, that's normal, we still have vastly different opinions on things. We still like to tell each other about new and interesting discoveries we've made. I still hate admitting I am wrong and he is right, he still hates the way I find it hard to get myself motivated in the mornings or when I sound like my mother. He likes watching films, I like watching American cop shows but still when we talk to our children we talk with one voice (literally saying the exact same thing at the exact same time lol) We hold the same values, the same ideals, the same desire to allow our children to be the best they can be. I've learnt how to be a an adult again rather than just a mum, I think he's found that refreshing, he's accepted there are parts of his life he hasn't dealt with in the best way possible and I respect him for that. We still find each other sexy, we still find each other funny, we still respect each other and we can still feel like throttling each other at times but through all this I think I have finally learnt what it means to love another human being and to be loved by another human being and though its been a hard lesson to learn it has also been the most amazing, long may it last !!</div>
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I love you x</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-9938561488536939812014-01-30T12:48:00.000+00:002014-01-30T12:48:09.655+00:00What is your inner voice telling you?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We all have one whether we recognise it or not. That little voice inside our heads which ways up our decisions and berates us when we get it wrong.<br />
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Mine of late seems to be shouting or possibly even screaming in my head to give what for to a few people. Never a coward in any situation, a trait that has left me in circumstances of which I will get beaten anyway but I keep fighting to the bitter end. I find myself at the end of a battle that I can't retaliate in, but my inner voice so desperately wants to.<br />
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Reasons for this restraint are easy to explain and so I shall.<br />
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1. Its not worth it. Self explanatory really my life is better off by not doing it. It won't get me anywhere, it won't make me a better person and I won't proving anything to anyone just making an idiot out of myself.<br />
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2. My relationships would suffer. This is a biggy, I am not prepared to allow anyone to drag my family's contentment, happiness, unity or love in to a gutter brawl with people that quite frankly have no business voicing opinions on my or my family's life.<br />
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3. I'm better than that. Yes I will always protect and defend my family but these people have no influence on them, they aren't impacting anyone of this family, comments on social media, emails and videos can all be ignored, deleted or laughed at. <br />
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4. I have nothing to prove. People will always want to talk, they will always want to gossip its human nature that doesn't for 1 second make whatever they are saying to be a truth. I can count my blessing on one hand my children and my partner. My friends are the sprinkles of deliciousness on the top of life and I am grateful that so many have stood by me, so many tell me they love me. My friendships don't come from lies they come from the ugly truths that we've shared and we've supported each other through, strong bonds built through trust. So me screaming from the top of my voice that's not me the person you are saying I am, I am not like that at all, is pointless because those that matter know who I am, love who I am and respect who I am.<br />
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5. If I retaliate I would be feeding a sickness of the mind that I am so better off staying well away from. Someone who lives in a fantasy land of their own making. Who spends too much of their time listening to that inner voice and acting on it continuously, is not healthy, especially when that inner voice is also a little bit sick and twisted too. We all have a "ideal" of who we'd like the world to see us as, whether that be the saint or the sinner, the studier or the partier or the whatever. But that ideal we try to project doesn't always come across to rest of the planet the way you'd expect it. You may like to think you are a kind sweet innocent person but then if you act upon your inner more basic voice who demands that you gain what you want no matter the cost then you aren't that sweet and innocent are you? <br />
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My point being to all this, is my inner voice wants to defend herself against a barrage of spiteful venomous comments made against her, which are based on no facts, just the ideas and thoughts from an attention seeking, insecure woman who should know better at her age who has nothing better to do with her time than comment on, read, and make judgements on a family that has nothing to do with her, that she isn't involved with, related to or has any connection with, her children aren't related to, her partner isn't related to in fact I am at a loss to why if she truly wants to get on with her life and she's so much happier now she still feels she needs to keep any form of contact she can ?? But as I suggested there maybe a screw loose somewhere up there.<br />
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Hence my inner voice can keep screaming but I shall not be answering. I will continue to post on social media the things I think are funny or interesting or matter to me for people to either read or not read but I will not be hauled into a no win argument with anyone especially someone who has no relevance in my life whatsoever even if they are trying to use every spiteful nasty thing they can conjour up in their heads.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-69688522363530535272014-01-29T12:57:00.000+00:002014-01-29T12:57:42.898+00:00Help my Mum is on steriods, Living with the older generation.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One dose she's taken, just one and already she has me wanting to crawl up the wall with my teeth. How is that even possible the stuff can't have even got in to her system yet and she's charging round the place with a self imposed sense of importance and the attitude of a stroppy teenager. I already have one of those, who is of my own creation, I don't want to deal with another one thank you.<br />
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It started yesterday when eldest child offered to make dinner. Now I don't know how you play this is your own household but in ours those that are doing get to choose what they do. It seems the only fair way in my opinion of making this ardourous task (see previous blog post) anymore bearable. So she decided she wanted to make homemade wedges from actual potato's. I know, shock horror this would involved actually having to prep stuff, so as I was being let off one of my less enjoyable chores (I'd rather iron than cook, its that bad) I full supported this decision of hers. Now we weren't prepared for a wedge type dinner in the sense that I hadn't bothered to get any meat out to cook at all that evening, before you ask, I don't know what I was planning to do for food that night before eldest child kindly stepped in (again see previous blog post) luckily, well not exactly luckily as the whole family know what I am like and so we regularly stock up on frozen chicken in various forms. We had in the freezer some chicken steak things so we decided we would together go wedges from scratch, broccoli and frozen chicken steaks. Its almost there in the healthy eating stakes. Anyway the point to the is incredibly long winded story is the fact that sterioded up mother walks in on daughter and I sweating & swearing over the ovens and stoves and has a complete paddy over what is being cooked. <br />
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The conversation went as follows, "WHY are you making THOSE things?" "Mum, Lexi is cooking and she wanted to do wedges we didn't have any fresh steak or chicken breast so we've used this instead but the wedges are fresh and so is the broccoli" "Well I bought fresh meat, I'm not eating this crap, why should I have to eat this crap" me know slightly irritated "Its not crap Mum we are cooking from fresh most of it, and the meat you bought is for stir fry, you bought 2 different types of meat, neither of which is a big enough portion for all the family so we decided it would be ok to do this and feed the entire family the same thing. ok" she storms off through the swinging doors muttering "its not good enough, I don't want to eat that crap, its not fair" anyway I turn to look at my daughter and her face is crestfallen. I know that look, its the look that must be on my face when I am trying hard to cook for everyone and someone turns their nose up at it, and while I expect it from the boys to have my mother make my daughter feel that way, got me alittle bit angry.<br />
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"You are either cooked for or bought food for every bloody night of the week, Mother. If you want to start making demands on what is eaten in this house, you can either cook for everyone or cook for yourself but you are not going to dictate to me how this entire family eats just because it suits you" She sulked the entire rest of the evening, though she did manage to throw some veg and wedges down her throat without choking and I bet she enjoyed them to as Moo did a fine job of seasoning them.<br />
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Needless to say, we're still not on the best of talking terms, second dose has gone down and she's whizzing around slamming doors, demanding why things are where they are, driving the cleaner up the wall moaning about everything and generally huffing and puffing alot. Don't get me wrong I'm glad she's feeling better I just wish she's calm the feck down otherwise there will be war on our hands and I won't be held responsible.<br />
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Tonight I shall use the beef and the pork she bought but I am not going to cook it in the way she demands but in the way I think the entire family will enjoy it so heads up round two will be around 5.30pm tonight. <br />
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Wish me luck xxx<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-72248814799354877032014-01-21T16:56:00.002+00:002014-01-21T16:56:24.861+00:00Give it up for the slow roast and other dinners they hate<br />
As awful as it is to say and totally non PC, being born female a layer of expectation is already being placed on me from the minute I draw my first breath in the world.<br />
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One of these is an innate predisposed ability to cook. Whether it be just the pressure of tradition or the natural maternal instinct to feed our off spring, women on the most part are the main cooks in any given home anywhere in the world. <br />
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There is only one slight problem for me with this whole set up and that is the fact I don't actually like doing it. While I like the praise for a meal well prepared and the pleasure of seeing faces enjoying the meal I have placed in front of them none of it makes up for the pain and drudgery of having to not only think what I can make but then go about preparing it. <br />
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Don't get me wrong there are days when I am totally up for the challenge and feel positive about the food I am making. I take pride in adding flavours together and challenging myself to push the boundaries of my food comfort zone. But unfortunately these days are few and far between, given that anything new I put in front of my darling children at least one of them will turn their pretty little noses up at it.<br />
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I don't know about you guys, but my heart breaks alittle when I spend all day cooking and they refuse to eat it and then the next day I present them with chicken nuggets and the wolf it down. Persistence, you may say, or even, they will look back and appreciate your efforts one day, which quite possibly is true, but you couple this normal parent/child relationship with the fact I don't actually like cooking and you hit an impasse. I don't like doing it, they don't like eating it. Where do I go from here?<br />
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I could give in and just make pizza and nuggets everyday but that goes against every parenting bone in my body. I was brought up on meat, veg and potatoes every night, how can i possibly not do that for my children as well, plus the other grown ups in the house might complain slightly as they would find a diet based solely on stick it in the oven jobs rather hard to swallow (excuse the pun).<br />
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There's always the other possibility of simply handing the job on to someone else, but we all know that's never going to happen unless I drop dead or something. I could just cook meals I like every day and have everyone complain at me but not give a toss as I would be eating something I like. I could try and get the kids more involved with the cooking but past experience has left me rather scared by these events and the kids are probably traumatised still to this day. I could go on strike until they all agree to promise to always eat whatever I put before them, but I am pretty sure we'd all starve before this happened.<br />
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So my only conclusion is I keep plodding on till they all leave home as most mothers do, then get complained at bitterly that I always cook far to much for "just the two of us" while I'm secretly hoping that one of the kids will pop in and fancy something to eat.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-47712666028862978312014-01-07T17:28:00.002+00:002014-01-07T17:35:30.607+00:00What is really important to you ?I do understand for all of us this questions has a myriad of answers, answers probably as unique and individual as we are as people. But I also think we can generalise a bit on this question too for instance.<br />
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Most of us that have children will want them to be happy. But the degrees in what this entails varies, for parents of sick kids, all we want is for them to get better. If we have a child who is getting bullied at school all we want is for that to stop. If we have grown up children we want them to be happy in their lives and make good choices. If we have babies we just want them to stop crying.<br />
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For those of us trying to succeed in life whether write that long buried book that is bursting to get out or that catchy tune that will be on every radio station and hummed on every ones lips or the next step on the rung of that extremely long career ladder, what is important is to get noticed, seen or heard.<br />
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Then there are those who's value they hold on things is monetary and power. They see wealth as important and have a deep need to obtain money in whatever way they are able to. They have a desire to control others and have materialistically all they can get.<br />
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Then there are those who are not happy with anything they have and that is what is important to them. They covert others, in all ways. Simply they are not satisfied with the way their lives have turned out and will never take responsibility for that. They look at others and either critisize or pick on aspects of the other persons life to berate or compare with their own. Finding fault in how they choose to live their life, jealous and resentful but hiding it behind a vale of contempt and self righteousness. They choose to feel indignant when someone is doing better than them and spend their time finding ways to bring any other person down rather than looking inward and finding happiness within themselves. These are the people I pity the most, because what is important to them is not how they can improve themselves or make others feel better, these people are the takers in life. They are the ones who buy you a gift, then tell you how much it cost them, they want constant praise and flattery, to boost their fragile ego and this is because they have no depth of character of their own to draw from. These people who look at a pretty woman and say "well she's got a fat arse" or "she shouldn't be with him she's a slapper". These people who judge, demean, belittle and have a deep need to always be seen to be doing better than anyone else, lead horrible lives. Lives lived by others standards because they can never be happy with the standards they set themselves as they can't stand it if they think someone is doing better than them.<br />
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People stop caring when you are a taker. When you are constantly wanting praise because you did something nice once and keep reminding everyone. They stop caring when you critise a person because you don't like the way they live their life or clothes they wear, or their makeup or their hairstyle, no one wants to know your opinion its boring and annoying. People stop caring when you are constantly bragging how something was bought for you or money was spent on you its not what is important in life and people truly stop caring when you constantly spend all your time trying to convince the world how stunningly beautiful and attractive you are. It shows how shallow you truly are when these things are certainly not what matters.<br />
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I accept I am not the most attractive woman on the planet, I do my hair in the morning, my makeup when I can be bothered, I could lose weight but I like food and I'm fairly healthy. I am nearly 40 I have had 3 babies who are all beautiful and I am just so proud of. I don't have a lot of money but I certainly love what I do for a living and that makes me happy. I have a man by my side who never ever wants to leave, who I giggle with, who makes me happy and I make happy too, who knows me inside out and accepts all of me (warts and all) who still thinks I am sexy, even with my grey knickers on and who I think is gorgeous. <br />
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I have no need to look at others and feel intimidated or threatened by them, I have no need to think I am not good enough because all the facts say I am, I have no need to think bad of others. But I will always feel the need to protect what I have, to defend it and to look after it because that is WHAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-13577721339845224502014-01-01T17:07:00.000+00:002014-01-01T17:07:33.012+00:00Oh Sh*t its 2014 alreadyLord, one minute I was panicking about what to buy people, how I was going to pay for it and will they think I'm a cheapskate because I only got them chocolates and the next we are here, New Year! <br />
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What a whirlwind, not in the sense that our time has been taken up with relentless parties and endless entertaining because quite frankly its been a quiet one. Its more the roller coaster of emotions that have been running through the house on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong they have mostly been positive ones, with hyperactive giggling children, semi drunk over loving teenagers and the continuing honeymoon period of my current relationship but there has been a few dents in the whole rose tinted merriment of the holiday season.<br />
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For instance the slight panic I felt on Christmas eve with the prospect of 60 odd presents still to wrapped at 7pm and my designated helper gently snoring on the sofa. This panic state was quickly averted by me also putting my head down and then us waking up together at 10pm and commencing the wrapping until 1am Christmas morning..See no problem really until of course we were woken up at 5am by 2 very excited little people.<br />
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Then there was the Boxing Day or otherwise known as, Mum's 70th birthday, moment of surrealism where we presented Mum with her birthday present...(a meat grinder) which she proceeded to completely unwrap take out the box and study intently. Leaving, what I would consider, some rather gruesome looking apparatus to hand and a strange glint in her eye as she handled the sausage maker expectantly. I spent the rest of the day with the music of Sweeney Todd randomly popping in to my head at inopportune moments.<br />
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Then there was the rather unpleasant news on the 28th where we discovered that the house has damp via an email with alot of red writing and capitalisation in it. This was while we were trying to enjoy a local kids Christmas disco, which had already been slightly spoiled by the fact that Santa had run out of Christmas presents for all the children and had had to make a quick exit back to the sodding North Pole and back again (well that's what it felt like time wise) to magically provide presents to appease all the parents who'd paid the £5 for this enchanting event (tube of milky buttons, not impressed, to be honest though the kids couldn't have cared less of it was just the tube).<br />
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By the 30th we'd got to the running out of food stage and it was really a short straw moment as none of us had any desire whatsoever to leave the house, but New Years Day was fast approaching and someone had to go. Mum was the hero of the hour, because after much wrangling and sighing and haven't we got ANYTHING left at all, she quietly slipped out the front door to return an hour later fully laden with basic essentials and a few goodies as well. A true family hero was greeted on her return, with various grunts from the children and a mumble from me of "did you buy me any chocolate?" (she had).<br />
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The infamous last night of the year (New Years Eve) was spent almost in the most perfect way possible, phone calls from the eldest every 90 minutes to tell me that she was still "FINE MOTHER" The boys were bathed early with vast amounts of their new smellies and nice and settled and the evening was spent in various positions snuggled on the sofa wishing all the friends and family a Happy New Year via facebook, twitter and text, while laughing at some of the horrifically embarrassing images being posted all over the net, even before the clock has reached midnight.<br />
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I can honestly say I am as ready for 2014 as I have ever been ready for any new year but I did have a quick wonder what 2054 will be like and whether I will see it, being as that will be my 80th year as apposed to this one being my 40th :-) HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone :-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-88044000429729177252013-11-23T00:22:00.000+00:002013-11-23T00:22:50.738+00:00The Shopping Trip...So this week I have gone Christmas shopping with both the other half and my mum. Not at the same time I might add, that would possibly be hell on earth, probably more stressful than taking the boys food shopping.<br />
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Now there are merits in both these adventures into the foray of Christmas present buying. For instance going with the other half was lovely, we don't get a chance to do much together alone and we were out early enough that we were able to sit down and have a cooked breakfast together. Never mind the fact it was only a Tescos cafe one, it was simply the fact we were doing something normal, together and without being constantly pulled every which way by the kids wanting our attention. After our relaxed breakfast we set about the task of purchasing presents, we probably should have had a plan. But as usual with us it was all a bit spontaneous and impromptu. We hit Boots the chemist first (does anybody else think that, Boots is a strange name for a place that dispenses medicine ??) and was able to in one foul swoop present buy for 8 nephews, 2 nieces and 2 sisters without breaking a sweat. Good job you might think 12 presents in under 20 minutes. But Boots wasn't the reason we'd gone to this place of wonder called a shopping centre, no, we had vouchers for Tescos...<br />
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After our first success we headed over to the "big" store and quickly ascertained that there was a machine were by a few presses on the screen we would be able to effectively double our vouchers. A no brainer you may think, well it was up to the point where we had to decide which department we were going to choose to receive our hard earned cash. Now I don't know about your family but for us it seemed that with every department we chose what we would actually want from that department was, of course, excluded from the double up deal. Toys and Games, no dvds, no pc games, no game station games, bugger. Clothing, no pj's, no accessories, no shoes..Tescos are you trying to drive us mad, Health and Beauty, no make up, no skin products, no perfume or gift sets, hey Chairman of Tescos you do know its Christmas don't you ??<br />
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Having now spent 10 minutes randomly pressing different parts of the screen we decided that before we could even vaguely think about which department would we get the most value from, that we had to go see for ourselves what each one offered. So off we went and headed for Toys and Games first. I would never want to argue that one of us knows the kids better than the other because that would just be a foolish statement. But as we walked around the aisle looking bewilderingly at the amount of plastic that was on sale in one moulded form or another. I came to realise that we know our kids in slightly different ways. What I mean by this is. It has become apparent that if daddy and I were to make the same statement to the kids, but at different times, and not when we're together, I have a very strong suspicion that the kids would react in very different ways to both of us. <br />
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I don't know why this hasn't occurred to me sooner, but its something I must be aware of I think when I am making a judgement call, say when an incident at school has happened or a problem has arisen. I think if they came from school one day and said they'd got in to trouble for not doing as they were told, I am pretty sure they'd spin the story of events according to which ever parent they were speaking to. What I mean is, with me I think it would be more slanted on their emotional upset, but with daddy I think the emotional upset would still be there but also a sense of bravado would also be implied. I don't know whether this is just a male thing or whether it is the same for a girl. Its hard to tell now as the 16 year old is all bravado all the time with both of us, though actually thinking about it, it is less so with daddy.<br />
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Ultimately this whole epiphany of thought came to light because we had differing opinions on what the boys would like as their Christmas presents which surprised me somewhat as we discussing the same kids. Happily we compromised on most of it and eventually got through the whole voucher processing and then subsequent queueing and paying for the goods without to much hassle and hopefully we have struck a good balance of parental influence and child personality with each kid's gifts.<br />
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Well we'll find out Christmas morning, won't we :-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-41016593637029532072013-11-13T16:50:00.000+00:002013-11-13T16:50:04.756+00:00I quit smoking today....<br />
Ok so its a little late for Stoptober and I am kinda only doing it to prove something to myself but I am finally quitting again. 10 years ago I quit and stayed off the fags for 5 years then through all sorts of reason I started again. This time it will be for good I hope. He's doing it also, and to be honest the way he coughs in the morning has always worried me and having only really just got him back I don't fancy losing him again to any nasty diseases. He's on day 4, cold turkey and a tinsy whinsy bit snappy, I'm not that strong. I have no will power to call my own so I am trying the e-cigarette option. So far today, I haven't really been ratty or had massive cravings but then the kids have only just got home so that may change shortly. To my credit though I have managed not to flip a lid at the state of eldest bedroom and have remained calm even to the sight of her sitting in the squalid mess, on her phone "too tired" to sort it out tonight.<br />
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So how's things with you ?? have you been up to anything exciting recently. Are you like me now in a state of panic of the fast encroaching Christmas season with thoughts of crap my family has suddenly grown again and my wallet has considerably shrunk. The last few years the buying for friends kids has tapered off somewhat, now the kids choose who they want to buy for in the friends stakes. Also the whole nephews thing is just a swapping for £20 notes. This year however I am back to buying for the extend family, mother-in-laws and sister-in-laws, nephews, nieces and grand nieces. Little ones are always a pleasure to buy for its the older ones that kinda only just want money really. <br />
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Thinking about it, there will be 10 nephews, 1 niece, and 2 grand nieces, 3 sisters, 2 mothers, and a partridge in a pair tree. I wonder if they will all descend on us this year ? The house is big enough to take them all, and the dining table seats 12 easily so definitely some of them can come up. In way it will be nice to reunite the family, ultimately the ripping apart was never something any of us wanted. Well maybe not this Christmas, this Christmas will be saved for just us I think, 5 people, loving each other, communicating and spending time together, catching up, reminiscing and creating new memories. There's always next year for the big family gathering.. :-)<br />
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Oh and I will be added a blueberry Shisha pen to my Christmas list :-)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-39831093142062098072013-11-07T14:34:00.000+00:002013-11-07T14:34:02.576+00:00Aaaahhggghhhh This frustrates me so much !<br />
Right, before we begin, please don't get me wrong, I am in the business of making people feel good about themselves. Admittedly not in the direct way, a make up artist or a hairdresser does, but I still capture people at a given moment in their lives. A place they can look back on and bring back memories, and ultimately I don't want those memories to be bad ones. So for this reason I aim to make people look good and in turn feel good. OK? we clear, you know where I stand now ? fine we shall carry on.<br />
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As I am progressing with my photography I am discovering the different "types" and I don't mean to be sexist or anything but I am talking about women here, men there seems to be only one type, the one that doesn't want to be in front of the camera at all, and who refuses to smile, just in case they look silly, so would rather look like miserable grumpy old git instead. Anyway I am digressing, and while most of us fall in to the "ooh I really don't like having my photo taken, but I know I will regret it if I don't, so I may as well make the best of it" section. There are a minority that will inevitable fall in to the polar opposites of this spectrum.<br />
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Now what I find absolutely fascinating and sometimes a little sickening is the fact the ones who you'd think traditionally would be a "Girl, I love myself" types, ie young, pretty, slim, flawless complexion and whole life in front of them are usually the ones that want to run away and hide when the camera comes out, whereas the "cougar generation" namely single older women who think that just because they are over 40 all blokes are going to be salivating at them because they've "experienced" life but actually, have to wear makeup, hide the fact they've eaten a chocolate eclair, and can't leave the house until everything has been pinned, stretched, sucked in and pushed up are all in my face with a "get my good side love !" errrrr would that be behind the door then ? <br />
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Now before you go shouting and calling me out, remember paragraph 1. These extremes I am talking about aren't your average woman, lady or girl. I have had beautiful young things coming to have their photos taken because parents are insisting, who look as miserable as sin as soon as I hold the camera up and I know their photos will look stunning, but for some reason they feel so damn ugly inside it hurts. Why do they suffer so? yes I know media has a lot to do with it but this isn't a new phenomena. Girls have been told from day dot they must make themselves presentable if they want to "find a man" which is fine, being clean, tidy and healthy is a good thing. But why do so many younger people find it so difficult to like themselves and then there are these middle aged women who think they are the dogs boll*cks when actually they come across as a little bit sad trying to convince everyone they are still as young and vibrant as a 20 year old.<br />
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If only I could give these younger people, a bottle full of what these older people think they have, allow them to be confident and sexy without fear of being judged in anyway. Its like life's kick in the butt, when you have it you don't realise it and when you realise you had it, you are already past it (well at least you do if you have any self respect lol) I know I know, but seriously do you think Madonna is doing herself any favours, do you really think Cher has got it right. Would you approve of your 60+ mother trying to make herself look 20+ or would you tell her she's being ridiculous?<br />
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I think what I am trying to say is, beauty is in the eye of the beholder or the camera lens as in my case. So when I look at you through the camera, yes I see your imperfections ( we ALL have them), and yes I can see your worries but also I can see the sparkle in your eyes, the genuine warmth from your smile, the gentleness in your face. These are the things that make a beautiful photograph, these are the images, that stop people in their tracks and say Wow you look lovely there. It doesn't matter how much make up or sucking in or pushing up you do if these genuine emotions aren't there, or if you are trying to be something you are clearly not then this shows through the image and every image you take will look fake and unattractive. Do you see what I am saying, be yourself, because yourself is beautiful and worthy no matter what your head tells you when you see your photo, as the people around you will tell you, you are loved and cherished for YOU. So next time you have a camera pointed at you and you are feeling unsure, look at the people around you see them smiling at you because they love you, then face the camera and SMILE :-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-30989614104351032602013-10-19T10:41:00.000+01:002013-10-19T10:41:16.150+01:00The top ten ways to tell if you are a bunny boiler.......<br />
10. Fatal Attraction is you all time favourite film and you've watched it 20 times and taken notes down each time.<br />
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9. You set up anonymous accounts so to stalk your ex or victim as we like to call them on every form of social media available<br />
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8. You start stalking not only your victim but all the family too including the children.<br />
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7. You contact members of the extended family and friends of your victim, crying and whaling down the phone with pleas of "I don't understand, what did I do wrong"<br />
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6. You pretend to text your victim as some one else, and start bestowing the virtues of why you are so wonderful.<br />
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5. You pretend you are pregnant and then you pretend you have had an abortion for the sake of "his family"<br />
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4. You spend months trying to convince your victim you really were pregnant and you have "proof" if only he'd acknowledge you.<br />
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3. You try to convince your victims partner that actually he's an arsehole and that she would be better off without him.<br />
<br />
2. You send threats to your victims partner and when that doesn't work you send her abuse constantly over a period of months and then start pretending that something is still going on with the victim in the hope to cause trouble or to try break down their relationship and destroy their family and their children's lives<br />
<br />
But the number one reason you know you are a bunny boiler is<br />
<br />
1. You send naked pictures and videos of yourself fingering yourself in the bathroom mirror 4 months after your victim has left you and has made no contact with you. Not once but a few times and for the life of me I can't understand why you would do that....my only guess is that in some screwed world you really think there is some sort of relationship still going on with the victim even though he has made no attempt to contact you or has any desire to, save for getting you off his phone bill.<br />
FUBAR is all I can say totally FUBAR<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-14316295759690078602013-10-14T12:52:00.001+01:002013-10-14T13:04:49.171+01:00Pumpkin Picking in Peterborough<br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Try saying that when you've had a tipple.....<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Well as you may have guessed from the
title we did in fact go pumpkin picking this weekend. A first for the
Hill family and for a change the entire family all went together, even the
grumpy teenager and maybe even grumpier mother. Some of us where more
prepared than others, to the extent that wellingtons where brought with, even
though teenage daughter decided she didn't actually need them (she did, she
really really did). As the last pair of wellies other half owned,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">ac</span><span style="background-color: white;">cidentally</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"> </span>ended up in the bin somehow (I have no
idea, honest) he had to face the muddy fields in his trainers, bright white<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Nikes</span>. Not a prospect
he relished but he managed to put a brave face on it and forge on (will be
purchasing new wellies asap). The farm was set over 14 acres of land with
a small orchard with plum, apples and pear trees. A small area filled
with sweetcorn and rows of raspberries and blackberries. The kids made a
half heart attempt to pick the fruit but it is a bit late in the season and so
the plums left on the trees where quite high up (cue daddy pulling branches
down for little arms and hands to reach) and the berry bushes had either been
picked dry by the crows or had<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">shrivelled</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>up little bunches of yuck on them.
We weren't there for this petty distractions though, we and the few other
families that arrived as we did where there for the main event, the big show,
the massive veg. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So once the troop was gathered back
together from their various foraging or in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Humf's</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>case, shouted at to get off the tire
swing for the 15th time. We headed over to the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">pumpkin</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>patch, and yes that is exactly what it
is, a patch of land with various sized pumpkins just lying on ground waiting to
be picked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt;">Daddy and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Humf</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>where on wheel barrow duty which was
working out fine until<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Humf</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>decided he could "manage"
himself, think, up turned wheelbarrow immediately. Then when we finally
got down to the pumpkin patch the kids got pretty freaked out by the scarecrow,
it was a shop floor<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">mannequin</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>with the most realistic eyes I have
ever seen..even had veins running through them.!!! So once recovered from the
scare from the scarecrow the kids all wandered off to pick their special
pumpkin. While Daddy and I looked on not really wanting to enter the
quagmire, chatting away, Daddy notices<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Humf</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>out of the corner of his eye and as I
look round at what he's staring out, I see<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Humf</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>pulling up his trousers...yes, he'd
just<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">wee'd</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in the pumpkin patch...nice !!
After this little episode, we hurriedly got the kids to choose their pumpkins
and promptly<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">wheel
barrowed</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>them back
to the till in the hut, where we priced our pumpkins by their size. Do
they fit in the hole £1.50 £2.25 £3.50<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">up
to</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>£9 of course all
our pumpkins where too big for the cheaper hole but not quite big enough for the
more expensive ones but of course we had to pay the more expensive price
anyway. £20 on pumpkins !!! I so need to use these for food not just for
Halloween faces, so shall be probably<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">blogging</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>later on in the month about all these
fantastic pumpkin<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">recipes</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I have found and we have all tried.
Defiantly going to roast those seeds though, they are a serious yummy treat
:-) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-77662944483738440162013-10-13T14:01:00.003+01:002013-10-13T14:01:56.758+01:00I don't care if you think I'm fat<br />
This is a subject that has been ruminating around my head for a few weeks now, basically how I feel about all the different aspects to what emotions and feelings are brought on by the "FAT" word. I am a short woman, being short first a foremost, means, I can never been seen as truly elegant, only cute and sometime stylish (Kylie Monogue) and also a size 12 on a 5ft person looks chunkier than on 6ft person that's just a physics thing that can't be changed. To be honest though my height has never bothered me, all the females in my family are 5ft and under, all the way back to my Great Grandmother they have all been strong working women and not one of them have been hindered by them being short. Now here's the other thing all 4 generations of these, strong, beautiful, loving super mums, who brought up their children and went to work and kept the kept the house going and we are talking over 100 years ago up to present, they have all been on the chunky side, including me. So reason number 1 why I don't care if you think I am fat is, there are 3 women generational behind me that I have a massive amount of admiration and respect for just in my family that were, or are fat and it has made no difference to the of the quality of impact they have had on me and my future generation. When I think about my grandmother, the first thing that doesn't spring to my mind, is OMG what a lard arse, I remember her amazing roast potatoes, and the warm smell of a roast cooking on a Sunday and the slapped wrist I'd get for trying to steal the scrapings from the roasting pan. I remember her long bright red painted nails and the ring of deep red lipstick on the end of her cigarette. What I am saying is as a child and as a young adult when she died, never did I think, urgh I can't love you because you are fat. In fact in the last few months when she had been very ill, and had dropped loads of weight off I was actually freaked out by how fragile and frail she looked against the robust woman I'd known all my life. So there's the history of why I don't care, now for the present. We as individuals are all built in a unique way, while the components may all be the same, the way they've been put together is totally different for each and everyone of us. This is natures way of ensuring the genes we have from the 6 original Mums that gave us all life as the homosapins that we are today, get as widely dispersed between us as possible. Therefore, no matter how hard I exercise, or diet or cosmetically change myself I will never "look" like the person I am aspiring to look like (my ideal look). Fine you say, but what about looking the best you can look? I agree, that making an effort to wash yourself, keep your hair tidy and present yourself in clean clothes is a good thing. What I don't agree with is the standard issue of if I was thinner I'd have more luck with, money, men, jobs, life. When those 6 original mums gave birth to us all, they weren't standing in front of a mirror, saying to one another, "ooh look I've gained 5lbs I look massive no one is going to want to shag me now" and all the mothers since that time. Because I can almost guarantee we are the off spring of the great poor, unwashed, and unclothed masses, who still managed to get a bit of rumpy pumpy and pop out a good few sprogs. You see what I am saying don't you. So reason number 2 of why I don't care if you think I am fat is, 3 kids, a whole lot of love in my life, a job that I love doing, a home of my dreams, beautiful friends around me and a loving, adoring partner who has always "wanted" me even though I'm a size 14 ie I'm doing alright for a fat bird. Then I sit back think about the bullying, nasty, spiteful nature of the superficial media constantly telling us only this particular image is beautiful, and we see our daughters looking at this stuff, being brain washed in to thinking that this is what beauty is when in actual fact beauty is just them. Its just them, their very existence is a beautiful and amazing miracle. From the moment their little hearts start beating in the womb, they are the most beautiful things on the planet. But the media and in turn their teenage friends, all start the comparisons, they tell them they must look like this otherwise they will get nowhere. They tell them what size they should be, what makeup they "have" to wear, how high their skirts should be otherwise no one will be their friend, no one will want them, they will be nothing, are nothing, if they don't look this certain way. And this is my reason number 3 why I don't care if you think I am fat, I am showing my child another way, I proving to her daily that being a certain body shape does not mean you are going to win or fail at life. It doesn't in fact mean anything, and all this bullshit the media portrays is in the editors heads, its like the story of the emperors new clothes and somebody has got to hold their head up and say...WTF he's naked because that's all it is, nobody wants to admit they have got it all wrong these last 4 decades when that's exactly what has happened. So daily I show her, I set an example, I work, I run the home, I look after her and her brothers, I have a partner and I have friends and I am happy, and that doesn't require me to being a size 6 and having all the stress of not eating and constant exercising to go with it. I eat sensibly, I exercise in moderation and I enjoy my meals with my family. I am healthy, and I make balanced healthy meals, take my kids out walking and keep our lifestyle active. I do not need to beat myself up that I am damaging them in anyway because I am not, so what I'm not a size 6, I do know I am happy with exactly who I am and surely that is all that matters. So don't tell me you think I'm FAT because I just don't CARE what you think.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17426389210086680950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7574747228583754126.post-18110909134607036422013-10-10T14:46:00.000+01:002013-10-10T14:46:29.175+01:00Autumn PicnicSo at the weekend we went for a picnic by the lake. A totally impromptu decision as most of this families are. The weather was beautiful and I didn't need to fuss about making sandwiches and taking mosquito repellent. We just grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the local supermarket and headed off for our walk. For once the kids didn't moan, while my boys are quite an active pair, to randomly walk somewhere, with no specific destination or reason, just seems utterly pointless to them. But with bellies full and giggles at ducks they were happy to just cruise along the path with us. The photographers where quite out in force and for this I was very grateful as I could just pop over and see what they were looking at and grab a few shots for myself. We stop by one lady who was taking a picture of a large group of thistles, not an interesting subject you may think, until she pointed out the enormous blue dragonfly perched quite contentedly on this spiky plant not bothered at all that we were all excited to see it up close. Daddy could see "ole itching fingers" wanting to grab, shake or distract the bug so gave Humf a good sharp warning as the other photographer and I snapped away, while doing this Ninja decided to stick his oar in and give the thistle a good rustle. We all gasped as the dragonfly flew away, and the sheer disappointment on all our faces must have hit him like a stone. While I desperately try to apologise to the other photographer for my child's insensitive behaviour, Daddy took Ninja away and tried to explain to him why we were all so disappointed by what he'd done. Bless him when he finally recognised what he'd done, he pretty much fell apart, (that boy is far to much like me) and no amount of soothing words and it doesn't matters left him feeling any better. The whole think before you act thing, we all have to learn at some point had got him good and proper. We managed after a good 10 minutes of break your heart stuff like, why am I so stupid, why did I have to do it, why do I never listen. He finally calmed down and we carried on our walk round the lake to the play area. By this time whinge pants had given up being the good one (for a change) and had reverted back to normal state of, the one you have to watch like a hawk and was good and ready to cause some mischief. Luckily the park wasn't too busy and he was pretty much left to himself to play on whatever he wanted without getting up anyone elses nose. Why do they never want to leave, it always gets me how, it doesn't matter how long you stay in that play area, they always want 5 more minutes, sometimes I look at them and wonder what it feels like to be them, looking at all the things around me with my head whirling with imaginative adventures, instead of sitting there watching them panicking that they are going to fall and hurt themselves. In the end they finally got tired enough that they didn't complain to much when we said it was time to leave and as we walked back to the car we did a bug hunt and were very successful in our finds. <br />
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