Mummy Fails.

Mummy everyday = massive mummy fails……

  • When your husband gives you a five minute neck rub and your toddler gets so jealous she head butts YOU in the nose. #fail
  • When you realise that your nose is swollen two minutes later. #painfulfail
  • When you finally have some time ‘off’ to yourself but end up organising and running your toddler’s day with her daddy so much that you are too exhausted to do what you originally planned. #fail
  • When you spend 13 hours taking care of your toddler then run her bath and get her bedtime ready, then make dinner for three adults and can’t get to sleep till after midnight because your brain is still buzzing. #fail #wideawake #WHY
  • When you’re away from your toddler for five minutes to go to the toilet and you enter her room to pick up her, she gets so excited that when you bend over the cot to get her, she head butts your jaw so much so you bite down on your tongue. #f**k #massivefail #notagain
  • When your morning consists of pre-school T.V and you actually look forward to it. #fail #pathetic
  • When you wish Flop from “Bing” was your carer. #fail
  • When you wish Flop from “Bing” was your child’s carer. #mummyfail
  • When you go to your local play group and watch your toddler use their death grip on a toy they aren’t even playing with so no one else can touch it either. Especially not YOU #fail
  • When your child decides to have the biggest tantrum later at that play group and all the other mums turn round to see how you handle it. #fail #groundpleaseswallowmewhole
  • When your child decides that chairs are for standing on. #fail
  • When you go to give your toddler a kiss and they punch you in the face. #fail #whydoesthiskeephappening?
  • When your child grunts at you at EVERY request you make. #fail
  • When your toddler sees you through the window but doesn’t recognise or acknowledge you. #fail #nobodyimportant
  • When you find play dough in your child’s pooey nappy #fail #how
  • When your child thinks banging her back against her stair gate is a fun activity #fail #scareds**tless
  • When your toddler’s toys make you happier than her. #fail #saddo #Ihavenolifeanymore
  • When you dream of having a cocktail later but all you’ve got in your fridge is milk. #fail #needadrink
  • When you make your toddler a nutritious, recommended recipe and she spits out the first bite and you end up giving her ham for dinner just as you did for lunch. And breakfast. #fail #foodnightmares
  • When your 20 month old toddler regresses back to having her afternoon naps on YOU as you sit in a chair for two hours. #fail

Actually that last one isn’t a fail at all. In fact none of them are really. Just part and parcel of what us mummys and daddies go through every day. I hope this post made you parents giggle a bit on a stressful parenting day. Feel free to share…..

It’s all worth it in the end.

Apparently (!)

We all Love.

I love

you love

we all love

love encompasses

envelopes

includes

love is faultless

but damaged

open to all

yet some hide it away

keep it a secret

fall into despair

love shuns

fears

belittles

it takes away dignity

traps us

breaks us

destroys us

it can change us

shape us

make us.

Sometimes you just don’t want an egg.

Sometimes you just don’t want an egg,

you’re just not in the mood

It’s nothing personal to the egg

you just want another food.

Don’t get me wrong, I like an egg

just not shoved down my throat

if I want the egg I’ll fry it – poach it

whatever rocks my boat.

You eat the egg by all means

enjoy it like a winner

I just want to eat something else tonight

for my very special dinner.

Bite your Tongue.

There are many times where one will need to put this into practice. Often with total strangers, sometimes with friends and colleagues. Usually it’s with the people closest to you – family.

The people that supposedly know you the best seem to be the ones that overstep the mark on a regular basis.

I’ve talked many times on here about boundaries. My family overstepped every boundary I set for myself; they themselves rarely kept any.

From telling me every intricate detail about their private lives to offloading their problems at work on me or irritating friendship issues at every opportunity to the sicker elements of boundary crossing where they’d expose details of their bowel movements while I ate my breakfast or moaned about the constant itching they felt ‘down there’. How is that appropriate? Just because I am here doesn’t mean you can use me as your confidante, your doctor, your therapist.

I cannot give anyone medical advice and even if I could, it would be fairer on your child to see a professional.

As adults and parents ourselves, we too have everyday stresses and problems. I especially know that you need to find time to work through those sorts of stresses in order to get some happiness. You set personal boundaries to protect yourself, to assert your personal rights.

You can be close to a parent without overstepping these personal boundaries. You can share, talk and listen to each other but each of you know where to stop. You know when it becomes suffocating or stressful or inappropriate. Who would want their child feeling stressed out or worried to talk to them?

Not having a proper social interaction and taking a real interest in your children can massively affect them. My family on greeting me, never asked me how I was or what I had been up to – they only used the time they had to talk about themselves. If I dared to mention something to do with me I’d either be accused of and berated for being insensitive or selfish. This would only prevent me from ever offering any information up about my life so when things went wrong in relationships, work or home – it would solely be my fault for not opening up to them sooner.

How could I? It was an impossible vicious circle. If I revealed it all they’d use it against me or feel it was their right to delve as far as they could. Rarely did I receive anything helpful or thoughtful. Usually it was anger and criticism – probably why I don’t deal so well with it now.

I have bitten my tongue for many years and continue to do so now.

My father was a racist, homophobic chauvinist. He hated people from Africa, women drivers, lesbians, politicians, the police. He was critical, opinionated, angry, spiteful, dangerous and very tricky. Talking to him about anything was a risk. Sometimes it was a risk I had to take for my own sanity. In the weeks where he was ignoring me over some “mistake” I’d made, the silence was almost excruciating. If I attempted to make conversation with him he’d either leave the room or stay and utter nothing. He would not even look at me. He’d only break his stubbornness – his rancour – his belligerence if I weakened myself and asked his advice on some other mistake I’d made.

Power is everything to people like that.

When I do not speak of myself is when my family talk to me the most. When I show an interest in their lives, I am heard but only for an opinion on their matters and they’ll be pretty miffed if that opinion is anything other than supportive.

Conversation never flows with my family. Therefore I go through life biting my tongue.

Would be nice if others did the same (!)

 

Before and After.

January hits and every woman, man and being on the planet starts thinking about their diet and lifestyle. Do I eat too much? Drink too much? Smoke, laze, complain too much?

Probably.

Yet what do you really want to change? Your waistline. Over the years I have struggled massively with my weight. Only for a short period between 2007 and 2010 did I truly feel happy with my body shape and those were the years I watched what I ate and exercised. After that, along with mountains of stress and binge-eating, I piled on not only the weight I had originally lost but a few stone more……..

How does it make you feel?

Ugly. Stupid. Naive. Embarrassed.

People say,

“You can’t tell you’re overweight!”

“You’re not that big!”

But I am overweight and I am big. Certainly bigger than I should be for my height. My BMI is high and god only knows what percentage of my body is fat. Yet, when I look in the mirror I understand that I hide it well. I have toned arms and calves (bending down and picking up a heavy toddler will do that for you) and my face is quite slim but my stomach, bottom and thighs let me down massively.

I don’t look at myself naked. I don’t acknowledge my body. It’s just there.

Body confident is not in my vocabulary.

Right now I am heavier than I was before I dieted the first time round and just under how much I weighed on my wedding day.

Urgh. My wedding day. I don’t look at those photos. When most women tone up or shed a few pounds, I managed to pile on over a stone. My father decided that would be the year he’d make my life that little bit worse and I just lost all forms of confidence and willpower. Binge-eating ensued and the rest is history.

I have lost just over two and a half stone since my baby was born which I think is quite an achievement even if it has taken me 15 months to do so. It’s been a slow road but better like this as it’s been gradual and healthy and not a sudden, desperate rush for a quick result.

I’ve done that before, a couple of months after I got married and even though it was with a steady plan from WeightWatchers, as soon as I’d reached a decent weight I grew tired of the mundane meals I was eating and gone back to my start weight very shortly after stopping.

Waste of money eh?

Needless to say this – feeling good one minute feeling rubbish the next – affected my confidence hugely. From around mid 2013 my weight began to creep up again. This time, each pound became a lot harder to lose. My job was quite hectic but instead of using the fact that I was on my feet a lot and busy as a positive, it was another reason to comfort eat when I had the chance. All with the unbelievable excuse that I needed to, for energy or something. The things we convince ourselves of when we want to……

Within a year I had managed to put on just over a stone again. My weight was at the highest it had ever been and I was not only disgusted with myself but quite worried too. I am not the tallest of girls, nestling in at just under 5 ft 4. I was concerned for my health. Not only that, but my husband and I had come to the decision to start a family. I never thought that when that happened I would be the heaviest I had ever been my whole life.

Now, I am not talking of obese. I am not critically overweight but my size has affected me mentally terribly over the years. I am angry with myself for being so lazy, so uncaring of my body. I feel incredibly ashamed.

I suffer with Body Dysmorphic Disorder and have done roughly since the age of sixteen. Being overweight does not help this disorder at all. You feel a huge amount of responsibility and hold a large amount of shame on your shoulders constantly. Knowing that I’ve had opportunities to get fit or eat well and I’ve brushed them away without a glance infuriates me.

I had to do something and soon.

After my baby was born I lost the weight I had gained during my pregnancy over a slow eight months. A stone and a half to be precise. The next stone was a lot harder to lose but I did it! A combination of lots of walking (with baby!), eating earlier and less in the evening, making sure I had three proper meals a day with much less snacking – all aided to my weight loss.

This year I am hoping to up it and lose another two stone. The last time I lost that amount of weight I did it in four months and kept it off for three years. This time my intention is to utilise the whole year and gradually and healthily get rid of all that fat my body just doesn’t need with the intention of never putting it on again.

This is no before and after.

I won’t be posting a photo to show how fat I am! Nor will I how off in a bikini after (or if) the weight comes off – DEFINITELY NOT!!!!

I might just be a little bit proud of myself though and why not.

Good luck to anyone on their own weight journey this year.

 

 

Courtesy of Google images

 

2015 – A year in Review.

Usually, at the end of each year, I do a month by month review but evidently as I have not posted as frequently this year than others, there isn’t as much in my life to review!

Makes more sense to sum up the more stand-out months that passed.

January was the first time my daughter slept through the night. This might not seem like a big deal but believe me – IT IS. She slept through which meant WE slept through. Bliss!

Needless to say it didn’t last.

March and one of the months I would rather forget. My birthday fell on the 2nd and my husband decided it would be a good time to treat me like a piece of s***. He ignored me for most of the day, sulked and generally ruined what should have been an enjoyable, relaxing time for me. Don’t think that it’s asking too much to feel good on a day where you get older is it? My husband and I hit rock bottom that month.

May was the month I chose to blog about my marriage. My broken marriage. My post https://freefromhim.wordpress.com/2015/05/19/when-history-repeats-itself/ caused a bit of a stir. It worried some friends, especially that of my husband’s. We had always come across as so right for each other. We may have been two very different people but no one ever doubted a connection. However, nobody can ever see the inner workings of a relationship nor can they truly know the person. I spend every day with my husband and when times are stressful, they’re really stressful and when things are tense, they’re incredibly tense. I can’t pretend that life is going smoothly when it’s falling apart. I’ve done that before and I suffered terribly for keeping it a secret. As a promise to myself, I vowed not to hide away from pain, be upfront about it and then at least it’ll be in the open. Some cannot understand my logic but that’s fine. I don’t look for agreement as it is solely my life and my choices I only ask for no negative comments. Nothing is gained from that.

Sadly in July I would receive a stream of negative comments from people I didn’t know, all condemning me for berating my husband so publicly. It upset me and I know I should not have let it. It led me to defend myself which I also know I didn’t need to do. I just hate being backed into a corner or accused of behaving in a way I haven’t. Why when we speak up about suffering or hurt we are sentenced to a term of judgement and verbal punishment? I experienced the same sorts of abuse when I posted about my father. It’s so hypocritical – you speak up and speak frankly – you are a nasty wife who is exposing your “fragile” husband or you keep shut and hide away – you have led yourself into that situation and you should have walked away earlier…..

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

September saw my daughter reach her 1st birthday. My little premature bird of a baby whose tiny fingers once wrapped around one of mine, made it to her biggest milestone. She not only made it but smashed through every expectation and want we could have had for her. I gush about her a lot. I know. But seriously – she amazes me! She’s so sparky and curious and has her own way about things already. Children are so beautiful. She is so beautiful and after everything, every stress, every heartache, she reminds me what true happiness is.

November marked the month where my husband returned to work. He had been unemployed on and off for around seven months. An especially long and frightening time as I had also given up my job to look after our daughter. It was an incredibly difficult decision as I was aware my husband’s project work was coming to an end and there was always going to be a risk of unemployment. Foolishly and probably wanting to in some way, I believed my husband when he assured me he’d find work within the following month.

He didn’t and thus followed a very stressful time.

I look on it differently now and have done since September. I began to cherish the time he had with our daughter. What father gets to spend seven months with their baby in it’s first year? It rarely happens. My husband had an opportunity to nurture his daughter in those crucial months and witness her grow so beautifully. One thing I always wanted for her was a close relationship with both her parents. Not clinging to one as she’s passed to another. My daughter does not prefer mother or father. She wants both and I am so proud of that.

Here we are at December. The year is over and once again it has gone by in a heartbeat.

I have many hopes for next year: that we move out into our own home, that my marriage strengthens, that my daughter continues to grow, thrive and amaze me, but most of all that I try to strengthen myself, think more positively and enjoy every day as a mummy.

Happy New Year everyone xx

 

 

 

Proud Mama.

After my sadder post yesterday I must add a little positive in my life at the moment. Sorry, let me correct myself – not a little positive, a great big, loving positive that comes in the shape of my daughter Ivy-Wren.

My daughter has formally entered her toddler years now. She has begun walking after a hefty spell of perfected crawling and is showing great skill in it too.

“There” is officially her favourite word, overtaking Dada by a mile.

Where is Teddy Ivy-Wren?

There.

Where is the book Ivy-Wren?

There.

Where is Mama Ivy-Wren?

There.

Nothing can beat that enthusiasm from excited babies and toddlers. At least it’s not “No”, things could always be worse! Although my husband and I do find ourselves having to regularly repeat words and objects as she points to every single thing she can see.

Not only is her vocabulary growing rapidly but my little bunny is now able to pull out a square, triangle, star and circle from her shape box when requested. How has my fifteen month old grasped the names of shapes already?!

She literally impresses me every day.

These big stresses we have right now melt into oblivion when I watch my darling daughter. Thank goodness I see such innocence every day. It keeps my feet firmly on the ground and keeps my mind focussed on my job. My job to raise her, protect her and nurture her.

Thank you for everything you are and continue to be Ivy-Wren.

Love Mama xxxxx