A weekend well spent brings a week of content.

I would put my featured image as my face this morning, but in all honest I have no doubt someone would set up a GoFundMe page and send round a Samaritan.

After about 4 hours broken sleep I’d also like to say I’m currently attempting to fill my Monday-caffeine-quota, but alas, Miss Bliss has other plans for me today and she’s already spilt half my gallon-mug all over me. Thankfully, and unsurprisingly, it was cold.

After a brilliant start to the weekend of baking muffins, bulk cooking pasta sauce and generally parenting the shit out of life, a sleepover with Beauxs all-time-faves, us parentals out in London for a gig – and me not losing my shit or getting even slightly clammy. (probs the 29501475934 starters I ordered from Wagamamas that absorbed the fear, or the fact James Arthur was so ridiculously good I was distracted from the amount of people around me. Well done, sir.)

I should have known it was too good to be true on the way home when the car decided to die a coolant death with 4% phone battery between us.

We put the Christmas tree up on Saturday (sorry Scrooges) only to be met with a limited supply of fairy lights. (Its their fault for being so twinkly that I’ve slowly put them up elsewhere throughout the year.) So with a half lit tree I went out on the fairy light hunt.

I’d been gone an hour and returned home to rock solid cookies, Beaux fashioning Sharpie all over her face and had emptied a baggy of star/glitter sequins all over the shag pile rug like she was at a crafting exhibition. – sprinkle that shit!

The tree was finished and we were in full Christmas mode. Turning down Michael Buble only to hear the sweet sounds of Casey, barking like a seal.

He obviously sensed we had a relatively decent sleep on friday night and thought he’d like a show around of Abingdon Hospital. Cheers pal. Croup is a thing of the devil but so was the film playing in the waiting room. ‘Obsessed’ – Idris and Beyoncé what the fuck were you thinking?

Sunday came round before my head even hit the pillow when Beaux decided to wake up the second I got back from hospital to tell me “I just love Kitty cat. Lets read together” Lets absolutely not. She then woke up about 3 hours later to come and ask me to put on her Cinderella dress…

Later in the day we went to a wedding showcase, Beaux was good until we walked in and she demanded food, found some brownies, ate one, licked the rest and then put them back.

Fast forward to last night, where Casey was either trying to attract all the dogs in the area, or dreaming of a past life where he danced for fish at a marine park. #sleepreallyisfortheweak

This morning just set up the day really when Beaux came in with a “present” for me.

She goes downstairs with Dan before work and comes back up when he leaves, sometimes there’s a gap in timing. Today was one of those times. As I began opening the gift covered in paper, a sudden rush of irrational fear swept through me, I saw what looked like a few handfuls of teeth. FFS…Panic averted as it was just an entire packet of chewing gum she’d broken up.

So now I’m just trying to reassure myself that ‘it can only get better’.. till I imagine what it will be like when they’re both able to set fire to the house.

Happy Monday friends. Stay safe.

And if you can’t stay safe just smile and wing it.

Yes that’s Beaux in the back eyeing up which bit of the tree to terrorise.

Godspeed.

Hx

Kids say the darndest things.

As we draw ever closer to Christmas and being constantly reminded by my daughter every waking minute, its made me reflect on how much more aware of it all she is this year. The excitement is bursting out of her like a can your friend at school would shake in a bid to soak you in humiliation – Unfortunately in this situation I can’t ‘tap her three times’ to minimise the pent up hysteria.

This time last year she could barely speak, had an offensive barnet, tiny gappy teeth and as the title would suggest, if you asked her to say Christmas her response was “Piss”.

It seems we’ve gone in full circle this past year, from telling everyone “Merry Piss” … to her Tangled obsession where she proceeded to tell adults I’d “locked her in the garden”, her inability to pronounce her ‘R’s has had her repeating “rank” in a less than appropriate manner, dropping something in a supermarket and getting very shouty “oh for fzzks Sake!” to telling the entire nursery staff that “Daddy has a tail” – I will never live that down! to very matter-of-factly tell random adults at parties “I don’t like you” and to just now, when Casey’s milk bottle leaked all over him (damn these anti colic contraptions) when she said “Look, piss! its pissed all over him!” –

Note to self – We really must get that swear jar fixed.

Merry almost Piss-mas!

DSC_8561
Beaux – Christmas 2016

Hx

Absolute write off.

Sorry I’m busy not being busy.

When I thought about bringing Casey home from hospital, I thought about the freedom and time I’d have to spend with him. I’d cut down Beaux’s nursery days by half to spend more time with her too and make up for the nine months I worked solidly while pregnant and spending the time we had together trying to recover from my energy sapping work days while carrying a human parasite. It can’t have been easy and I was ready to make it up to her.

Dan went back to work and I actually felt like I’d been handed a sweet deal. Second time round is a breeze in comparison to the first. You’ve got your shit relatively together, you feel like a baby whisperer (even though Casey spoke any language other than the one we’d learnt with Beaux) the house wasn’t a complete baby death trap and we were a little less thrown in the deep end, with cement blocks on our feet, like you are with your first.

Just shy of 6 weeks in and I was venturing out on my own (just with Casey – fxxk risking a 2-child-meltdown in public when you’ve only just gotten over the uncontrollable, unpredicatable, hormonal outbursts yourself)

I’d offered my services to a close friend to make her a flower crown and some other cute baby shower bits and at that point of juggling two kids and life I thought I was a mixture of Mary Poppins and Kirsty Allsopp so naturally, I headed to Hobby Craft to grab myself a glue gun and fuck shit up.

As we got closer to home I stopped to turn onto our road from the main road (aptly names ’13 bends of death’) a car went from roughly national speed limit, with about 3 foot of breaking into the back of us.

Thankfully it was a smart car (covered in astroturf which was a lol explaining to insurance companies and solicitors) so he managed to completely miss the crash bar and go right under the car, rather than completely throw us into oncoming traffic the other side of the road. Also due to the make of the car and the engine being in the boot he kept his legs which was another win.

And thanks to my ‘fxxk-taking-two-kids-out-solo-just-yet’ attitude, Beaux was at nursery and didn’t take the brunt of the impact emotionally or physically.

Casey was so preserved by the carseat he wouldn’t have felt much other than shock, (although the car had been so shunted I couldn’t open his door) but paramedics assessed him at the scene and said it would be best to go home and monitor him in his usual environment.

The adrenaline f*cked my shit up and while I showed no signs of anything at the time, I proceeded to vomit every day for two weeks and by the end of the first week I’d lost sensation in my arm and hands. CT and x-ray were clear and it was diagnosed as muscle spasms in my neck pinching my nerves causing loss of feeling – just what you need while changing 928391274012984 new born nappies a day. Also poppers – fuck you.

Fast forward to 2.5 months later, I’ve had to have physio 2/3 times a week, hours upon hours away from my children after having this dreamy plan of being with them like I was supposed to and now being crippled with anxiety.

Anxiety that I could’ve done more, anxiety driving, anxiety that I had to stop BFing, anxiety to take the medication I was prescribed, anxiety eating, anxiety thinking about having to go out, anxiety sleeping, anxiety of having to get help which would lead to more time away from my children. It’s ruined birthdays, nights out, missed weddings, missed appointments, missed out. There’s only so many excuses you can make up before you start looking like a dickhead.

The car was replaced and no one was hurt badly but all this time I’ve missed can’t and while my kids drive me insane I’d give anything to not have had this start to our journey together.

Although its catapulted me entirely away from any form of baby blues, after much anxiety, cold calling the surgery and cancelling appointment after appointment, I got diagnosed with ‘postpartum maternal separation anxiety’ and it is an absolute b*tch! I’m hopeful that I’ll see the sunshine soon, but currently my days are as grey as they are long.

Hoping to get my shit together soon.

Hx