Please stop following me

Please stop following me darling

I am sure many of us mums can relate to have a mini person following them where ever they go, as soon as I move from one room I hear the scurry of little feet behind, following me. I expected it as a parent to not get a minuets peace, but sometimes i’m thinking please just sit down and please play with your a million toys and leave me the (insert choice word) alone.

Miss J is four and half years old and has been at school now since September. I drop off in the morning with no tears and a quick cuddled and kiss with no worries of how she will be. The problem is when Miss J is home, she is incredibly clingy to me and cannot spend a single second in her own company. I thought having a brother might help at least entertain her whilst I went for a poo, but no chance just yet. Mr T at 20 months is quiet happy sitting watching the minions whilst I get on with my jobs that I need to complete.

Miss J is a sensitive little girl which I adore about her and she is still a very cuddly little thing. I know I shouldn’t complain, but I am unable to get a seconds peace whilst trying to fulfil one of my many lovely mum duties I have. If I’m making the bed she is rolling around on it, if I am having a shower she is sitting on the toilet seat telling me she loves my wobbly tummy and if I do need to use the toilet she will be handing me a tampon (she thinks they are toilet fresheners).

From the moment Miss J was born she has been a velcro baby and we only managed to get her out of our bed just before her little brother arrived. Me and Miss J were so lucky for it to just be us two for three years, where we spent many a day out together, making wonderful memories and cementing an everlasting bond. Little Miss J has become my best little friend and someone I love to spend time with, especially as her daddy has to work long hours and shift work. When Mr T came into this world Miss J wasn’t so keen and wasn’t overly impressed with having to share her time with me. Mr T as he gets older has started to get his independence, partly because his sister has left him no choice.

Even when Miss J’s dad is around she is still wanting to know where I am and if I do leave the house there will be tears from her. As soon as I go upstairs to attempt to hoover I hear her screaming ‘mummy’ and following after me. I love her dearly, but I wish she would learn to be on her own for just a while.

I will try to remind myself everyday when she is asking me to pick her up, sit with her to play barbies or cuddle her through a scary bit in a film, that one day she will stop asking for me. One day she’ll be rushing out the door to go shopping with her friends or to meet with her boyfriend and I’ll hardly get a goodbye.

 

 

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My birth story miss j

Birth story Miss J

Whilst going through my old files on my computer I came across my birth stories I wrote a few weeks after giving birth to my children. I wrote both these stories whilst they were fresh in my mind and I’m so glad I did as reading through now there so much I had forgotten. I love a good birth story and could listen to people talk about them forever. To give birth or to be part of someones birth story is such a raw look into someone in such an intimate way. When giving birth you can not try to be anyone else but yourself and you see your partner in a whole new way. My husband was a wonderful support through both my labours, but the person who helped me the most was my sister, but unfortunately I pushed her away before my epidural with my daughter as I wanted mine and my husbands first birth to just be us two.

A couple of days before my due date I had started to have contractions on and off, but every time I went to bed, things seemed to stop. I was getting extremely exhausted and frustrated waiting for things to kick off properly. By the Thursday at 40 weeks 4 days my contractions finally started to get regular at about 4 minuets apart and we decided to leave for the hospital once my husband had finished watching football. I was checked over by a midwife and was told I was 2cm dilated and was sent home. At the time my husband didn’t drive so we went back to my sister’s house and I attempted to get some sleep. By 5am things were just getting too uncomfortable so we headed back to hospital where I was checked again and told I was 1cm! How was I managing to go backwards was beyond me and I was feeling really disheartened. The midwife did a horrendous stretch and sweep and I was sent home with some co-codomol. I spent Friday at home bouncing about on my birthing ball, in the bath and trying to get some rest for the impending birth.

37 weeks. I still had 4 weeks left of growing.

By evening I was unable to cope at home and was feeling so much pain in my back that we went back to hospital where I was examined again and was told I was 3cm and I was admitted onto the labour ward. I was desperate for a water birth, but both pools were occupied so I settled for a bath, but I just couldn’t relax and felt like I wanted to walk about. I was told by the midwife that the baby was back to back and with things slowing down again I was moved to the ward and my husband was sent home.

By Saturday morning I was exhausted, fed up and desperate for this baby to be out. We spent the morning walking up and down the stairs and taking many laps of the hospital. I was contracting well, but all in my back so we went back to the ward and I was given pethidine. By evening my husband had to be sent home again and I was crying in the ward feeling defeated and alone. I was given sleeping tablets and co-codamol, but the pain was just horrendous and all I could do was sit upright and try to breath through the pain. At around 3am I tried to force myself to eat some toast, as by this point I hadn’t eaten properly in days. Whilst eating my toast through contractions I had a spider crawl up my neck and had to be saved by a fellow patient who had given birth earlier that day, I was so jealous that she had her baby already and I was still stuck in this state.

Through the early hours of the morning a mum in my ward being observed, who I actually knew from my clubbing days (not how we had spent 3am Sunday morning a few years earlier), sat with me and helped me through my contractions until my husband was able to get to the hospital. I remember my husband calling me at 7am and asking if I wanted a Macdonald’s breakfast, I told him to fuck off and hurry up. My husband arrived at about 8am with my sister and tried to get me to calm down. I was in quiet a state and pethidine hadn’t taken the edge off at all. My sister was finding it very upsetting to see me in so much pain. My contractions came very 2 minuets and felt like someone was snapping my spine in half. I felt let down by the midwives as I was still in the ward with no access to gas and air and they didn’t seem to have the time to help me. At 9am I kicked up a huge fuss and insisted I was having an epidural, which was something I didn’t really want to have. One of the nice midwives checked me and I was still only 3cm dilated, but she phoned delivery suit and told a white lie that I was 4cm. My sister left me and my husband to it and it really started to sink in that we had a baby coming into this world very soon.

Miss J’s first picture

Once up in delivery suit I was quickly prepped for my epidural and I remember them telling me to let them know when I was contracting so they could stop. I can tell you now I didn’t tell them when I was contracting and didn’t move a muscle until that epidural was in. Within 20 minuets I was numb, I was put on a drip to speed things up and I went to sleep for three hours. At 3pm I was checked and was 4cm and they broke my water and I wasn’t checked again until 5pm when I was 10cm. The midwife said that the head still needed to move down so I had another nap until they woke me and told me to push. Two pushes later and about 10 minuets Miss J was born into this world. She was perfect, pink and looked like one of those babies born in soap where they look a good few weeks old already. She weighed a healthy 7ib 13oz and immediately pooed on me. She latched on perfectly at a few minuets old and took her first feed from me. We got a few hours to ourselves in the delivery suit where we took in every second, looking over our beautiful little girl.

The next day we were discharged and we took our beautiful little girl home to start are life as a family of three. Those memories I have us all are so special to me and something I will never forget.

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Losing the fear to succeed

Losing the fear to succeed

I have failed to succeed at a few things over my years and always had feelings of inadequacy. I’ve never felt quiet good enough at anything I had done, whether it was sport, education and then later on my work. Something I always thought I would succeed at was being a mother and when I got postnatal depression I was very self-critical and hard on myself as I saw myself as a complete failure with something I was so determined to be good at. It has been a long road, but eventually I realised that those feelings were making the postnatal depression worse by giving it ammunition.

At school I was always too scared to say when I didn’t understand something and wouldn’t raise my hand for help. I went through school doing the minimum to get by and felt a bit lost. I always felt I was living in the shadow of my older sister, she was intelligent, everything seemed to come natural to her and I felt my parents did forget the younger, not so intelligent child at times. I know this wasn’t on purpose and something they may have never noticed, but it’s how I always felt.  I left school with average GCSE grades and decided to embark on a Holistic Therapies course after I was told A-levels were not the right fit for me. I did a year of Holistic Therapies, but knew it wasn’t something I wanted to pursue as a career and once I lacked motivation, I quickly started to fall behind on the work. I decided my next step was to go into full-time work in an office and although I liked the people I worked with and having a wage, I didn’t enjoy the job and found it rather dull. 18 months in I had a change of heart and decided that I was to go back to college to do an access course to university. Going from a full-time wage to a part-time waitress wage was a struggle and I found that the easy option was to throw it all in and admit defeat when I was only three months into the course.

After a few full time jobs in various different roles and a trip to Australia, I finally found something I enjoyed and almost 8 years on and two children I am still working there today. I now work for a food gifting company in the Technical department and have a very varied job. I’ve been able to complete some great courses and the team I work with are brilliant. However much I do enjoy my job (for the most part) I still felt like I was missing something and needed a creative outlet.

I still felt like I needed somewhere to express myself and do something for me so I started blogging to help me through my battle with postnatal depression. I didn’t realise at the time that I found something I had missed for many years, which was writing. I had always been passionate about writing at school, but when I would hand in a piece of work to a teacher I would have it returned covered in red pen, full with spelling mistakes and grammar issues. I’m still struggling with both of these things, but it is something I am focusing getting better at.

Blogging has given me time to do something for myself again and an outlet. I have received praise, done guest posts for other fantastic bloggers and have some exciting opportunities lined up, that will be challenging and exciting for me and something that I would have never had the confidence to do six months ago. I am no longer scared to succeed and I am happy to except what I deserve. My work is by no means fantastic, but it is honest and I have put my heart and so many hours into it. It has been a labour of love.

I am taking risks in my life and putting myself out there and hopefully it will pay off. I will not let being afraid stop me having the chance to succeed at something I enjoy. I will not let the fear stop me from achieving my goals and if I fall or if it doesn’t work at least I can say I tried.

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Funding mental health with open eyes

I am so glad to see the news today that Theresa May is planning to invest millions into helping fund mental health care in England. This a great step in the right direction for mental health to be taken seriously like any other physical condition. They have said every secondary school will receive mental health first aid training, which I thing is such a positive thing. 1 in 4 people suffer with a mental illness and many mental illnesses start through teenage years.

Looking back at my teenage years it is now quiet clear to me that I had mental health issues, but I was completely clueless on how to deal with them and often suffered with depression. I remember listening to someone say that once you were on antidepressants that you would be on them for the rest of your life, so I felt to scared to even ask the doctor about them. I suffered with terrible PMS right until I started antidepressants, I would have fits of rage, breaking things, hitting and the followed by feelings of shame for not being able to control my emotions. I would feel fine one minuet then it was like I was possessed and I wasn’t able to contain my emotions. If I knew what I knew now I would have started taking antidepressants to help with this alone as since starting them I am so much more relaxed and no longer get angry about silly things

For anyone following my story they will know after battling postnatal depression for 18 months I had a breakdown and ended up under the crisis team care. Since I was discharged back in November I have had no other contact besides a ten minuet phone conversation with someone from the Iapt team. I am still waiting on a priority list to see someone and have been prescribed antipsychotics and benzodiazepines to take when needed. I have kept myself positive and have used support groups on Facebook and called Samaritans when I have needed extra support. I find it quiet shocking that someone can be left with no care for so long who was previously suicidal and self-harming.

Since I accepted I have postnatal depression when Mr T was 5 months old and let go of the initial guilt, I have now stopped worrying what other people think about me and I am doing everything I can to help lift the stigma around mental health. I could hide what I went through, but for whose benefit besides the people who find it uncomfortable to talk about it or the ones who do not believe it is a real thing.

Mental illness sucks not just for someone going through it, but for the family and friends who have to support you through it. Everyone can probably relate to it or knows someone who has dealt with it and the more we are open about it, the more we can help each other. I hope the Prime Ministers new plans to invest millions into mental health will help lift the stigma around metal illness so we can progress in this ever challenging world.

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My goals 2017

My goals for 2017

For the first time in a long time I am finally feeling like I’m in a good place and I am ready to set myself some goals to complete throughout the year. Postnatal depression and anxiety has made me extremely reliant on friends and family to get out and about and I have found it almost impossible to do things on my own or with just my children. Even a trip to the local supermarket with my anxiety can be extremely overwhelming, but I’m ready to put my big girl pants on and start fighting back, so I can stop being limited enjoying my life. There is no better time than now for me to grab the world by the balls and start doing stuff for me again. I’m back in control of my life and will not be forced to sit on the sidelines anymore.

I am terrible for cancelling last minuet and it isn’t because I’m a bad friend it’s because of my anxiety. I over think every aspect of doing something, however small and find it so overwhelming and exhausting that I avoid it and hide away. This just makes things harder for me to get out the next time and stops me from doing something I probably would have enjoyed. The worse part is I feel my children miss out on so many lovely things because of my avoidance behaviour.

  • The first of my goals I’ve committed myself to is to see the lovely Vicki from Honest Mum at ‘Turn your passion into pounds‘ workshop in London. I’m so looking forward to doing this and planning to spent the day in London before to enjoy exploring. Going by train is something that has always caused me anxiety over the fear of getting lost and London I find quiet overwhelming, but I do love London and want to get out and explore.
  • I’ve been asked a few times to guest host, which is something I was very nervous about doing. I’ve always doubted myself and thought my content wouldn’t be good enough. I have now written my first guest post for mummyitsok and two more to write for two other amazing bloggers.
  • I am planning some trips with the children to go to some new places we haven’t been to before, not just for their benefit, but also for mine. It’s time to make some wonderful memories with these children of mine.
  • I really want to spend a weekend away with my husband. We haven’t stayed away anywhere since our honeymoon where I was 18 weeks pregnant and had terrible morning sickness. We’ve been married six years this August and I’m determined to do something with my wonderful husband.
  • I ended the year by joining the gym in November and I am happy to report (besides a Christmas break) that I am still going and enjoying the classes. I plan to keep doing this and would like to go at least twice a week. I had a real fear of going to the gym as I was scared of how unfit I actually was and how stupid I would look, but I’ve found it so rewarding and something I am honestly enjoying.
  • I would like a family holiday, if possible and if finances permit. I’m quiet happy for just a little break in England, but would love a trip for us together as a family.
  • Last year I started this blog at a very low point of my life through postnatal depression and I honestly didn’t think anyone would read it. Blogging has been amazing for my confidence and something I’m enjoying so much. Blogging isn’t just about writing good content and it takes up hours of my time each week, I’ve had to learn so much and still have so much more to learn, but I am keen to carry on and hopefully make my blog somewhere that people will want to keep coming back to.
  • I have a bad habit for starting to read books, but not completing them, This year one of my goals is to read at least one new book and month and finish it.
  • I am very keen to learn more about mindfulness and make it a part of my everyday life. After suffering with PND I’ve realised how important it is to look after you mind.

Wish me luck with my 2017 goals!

 

 

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not fitting into motherhood but letting it fit in with me

Not fitting into motherhood, but letting it fit in with me

As a young girl all I wanted was to become a mother. I had these dreams of how I would embrace motherhood and become this perfect little mummy and house wife to my little family. When I was carrying Miss J I looked up to my own mother, looked at what the latest trends were for changing bags and pushchairs, I read countless articles and aspired to be this perfect mummy that I had imagined in my head.

I tried this motherhood on managed to get it work for the most part. I was pretty good at it and had a child growing up to be the most perfect little girl. When baby number 2 was cooking things started to get a bit messy. I wasn’t so good at getting out, doing the toddler groups, I didn’t have the energy to dress you up perfectly coordinated, I didn’t have time to do all the messy play and baking cakes. Things started to unravel when Mr T arrived into this big wide world and I had a big shock of what it was to look after two small humans.

The realisation of postnatal depression arrived and exposed me like nothing had before. I was feeling, weak, lonely and empty inside and I was no longer the mother I wanted to be. I beat myself up for failing my children and made myself  feel so guilty. I wasn’t fitting into motherhood anymore and I wasn’t sure how to do it again. Things eventually came to a head and I couldn’t look after either of my children in the way they needed.

I had to take a step back and start focusing on myself. I read self-help books, took medication and I got help. Eventually I started to rebuild myself again, but I still wasn’t fitting into motherhood like I did before. My perception had changed and I realised that the mother I was trying to be before wasn’t me.

One day things just clicked, I was a little older, a smidge wiser and a tad more confident. I realised that I didn’t need to fit into motherhood and it needed to fit into me. Why should I pretend to be someone I wasn’t, just to please others and why did I feel I had to do things in a certain way so others didn’t judge.

Things have changed and I’m now a happy mother, which I can now positively say that I’m telling the truth. Mummy now takes more time for herself and she doesn’t try to impress others or care for their opinions. My children are none the wiser and are just happy to see that I am happy. It took some time, but I learnt to own motherhood and make it my own. Don’t ever be anyone, but yourself.

 

 

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supporting women and mothers

Supporting women and mothers

All I see everywhere I look is women being judged and it’s time we start supporting each other. I know this subject has been touched on many a time, but unless we keep talking about it things will never changed. I do think things have improved and I know myself, especially after postnatal depression I try to be much kinder to myself and not judge others. You never know what someone else is going through at home or why they have decided to make a certain choice.

As a woman you feel you are being judged no matter what you do. If you decide to not have children apparently you will regret it or you’re selfish, I personally couldn’t imagine not having children, but people are wired differently and neither is wrong. If you run a succesful business, often you at looked down upon by other women and men like its something you shouldn’t be doing, when you deserve support and ‘well done’. If you are too outspoken you are still often hushed and looked at as if your opinion doesn’t count. Many times a man has tried to silence me and has tried to make me feel I shouldn’t have an opinion on something. One thing you will never silence me on is my OWN opinion.

Since being a teenager myself I have noticed how a woman who has had a few sexual partners is seen as a ‘slag’, whilst a man is known as a ‘stud’. I’ve seen many a woman shamed not only by men, but also women. How can having sex with someone if you are a man or a woman be seen as such different things depending on your gender. If it’s from two consenting adults and its safe, why does it matter? Why shame someone for having fun, you should be supporting them and letting them embrace it.

Mr T (milk monster) is very supportive of women and boobs

Still we are shamed by our sizes, if we are too fat or too small, if our breasts are too small or too saggy. You only have to look through any comments on a celebrity newspaper article and see how women are shamed in such a derogatory way by their physical appearance and often it’s by other women. I for one have been called fat a few times over the years in arguments with men and it has upset me, this was before children when I was a size 12. I’m bigger than a 12 now and not skinny, which I doubt I ever will be, because of my love of cheese. I am not 100% happy with my figure and am trying to get healthier and lose weight but that still gives no one the right to make me feel ashamed in any way.

If you do decide to enter the world of motherhood you soon realise how ugly things can get. You are made to feel ashamed if you didn’t or failed to breastfed or you breastfeed an 18 month old still. You are judged for putting a baby in its own room from the start or for bed sharing. You decide to give up work, to be a stay at home mum, which means your lazy (hats of to SAHM’s I couldn’t do it), or you decide to go back full time, which makes you a selfish mother. I have felt judged so many times , but I also know I have judged too, especially when I was a first time mother and thought I knew everything, but now I try to be as supporting as I can as I know these decisions have not been easily made.

I am determined as I’m sure many other mum’s are to raise my children to know that it is never kind to judge someone else. My children are being taught to be kind, not judge, support and respect others. Everything we have been taught and all behaviour we have learned and can be unlearned. We can be more conscious of our thoughts and challenge them.

Postnatal depression has taught me to a better person and to own my own decisions I make. I sit my children in front of the TV or tablet far too often, my house is mostly messy, my children are fed chicken nuggets at least twice a week, but I am working hard to be their mum. I love them, read to them, spend as much time as I can with them, I feed them, clothe them and I work for them because I have to. I do my best and I am trying to be a good role model for them. I’m not a fantastic mother and I never will be, but one thing I have learnt is to be a realistic mother. Lets keep supporting each other., this being a woman thing is tough.

 

 

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Lazy parenting

Let me lazy parent today

After new years eve last night and having a slightly fuzzy head from drinking a bottle of prosecco, I’m in much need for a lazy day. Mr T went to bed at 8 (very late for him) and Miss J passed out on my lap at 11pm, after desperately trying her best to stay up and see the new year in. Obviously because I let them stay up they got up earlier than they would any other day (sods law or kids law) and tumbled into bed with me, demanding that they are fed right away. Mummy consumed a whole bottle of prosecco and stayed up until 1am so I’m feeling pretty poo right now and in no mood to parent today. The children are passed off with biscuits for breakfast and Disney Junior is quickly turned on whilst I make a hot tea. I also have biscuits for breakfast and I snuggle down in my dressing gown to catch up on the outside world through Facebook.

After not getting my few hours child free to myself like I do every other night and watching my own programs I am feeling pretty frazzled. Obviously the weather is crap and the kids are pissing each other off. The cat got poo stuck to its bum and dragged its bum over the kitchen (that was steamed the day before), Mr T has thrown a wooden brick at Miss J’s head and the kids are turning the light on and off as we speak. Why won’t they just let mummy have a nice relaxing morning to myself and let her drink her cup of tea hot. Mr T has now done a poo and is ripping out Miss J’s hair.

These children have been fed, watered, cleaned and have half of Toys ‘R’ Us in their living room (I would say mine, but it’s basically theirs these days). Why can’t they just let mummy be lazy, just for today. I’m sure it’s more stressful attempting to have a lazy day than it is taking them out for the day.

Its amazing the mess they create.

Miss J is now 4 1/2 and Mr T is 19 months and has just learnt the art of hitting his sister, pulling her hair and throwing random objects at her head. I think he’s showing sign of being a fantastic rugby player in years to come, which I know his football mad daddy won’t be too pleased about. This is the first time I’ve had to deal with fighting siblings and I can only assume this is just the start and I have many years ahead. I am unsure on whether to discipline or just leave them too it. Miss J is a bit of a wimp and probably deserves a few of those whacks her brother gives her. Giving Miss J a gift of a brother is probably the best thing she could have given her, otherwise I’m sure she would have been even more of a diva by now.

Society tells us we should feel guilty when we stick the children in front of the TV (electric babysitter), give them biscuits to keep them quiet and we are not spending every waking moment interacting and nurturing them. Well I have no guilt, my children are happy between fighting, fed and I am not doing any lasting damage by ignoring them when I have spent every day solid for over a week in their company. Sometimes you need to do what you’ve got to do to get through the day.

I think it’s time to admit defeat and actually parent today. It’s going to be difficult and will probably involve tears from all three of us. I don’t think we can get lazy days as parents, but at least I got a blog post out of it. Roll on the usual bedtime this evenings so I can catch up on Greys Anatomy and not have to share the chocolate with them.

 

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New years eve and prosecco

New Years Eve after children

New Years Eve isn’t quiet the same now I’ve become a parent. It’s still a night that I stay up until midnight for, have a glass of fizz for, but otherwise it is a little dull, compared to 6 years ago. If you are anything like me, then you are never able to get a babysitter for New Years Eve as your own parents actually have a far more exciting social life than you. My New Years Eve since becoming a parent have consisted of either a party at a friends or at home with a M&S dine in for £20 deal.

My last New Years Eve before children and before being pregnant with our first child was in 2010. On this night we had a house party, then gate crashed a pub party, my husband was dressed as a ballerina and we got home about 4am. The night was messy, we were young and we had so much fun. New Years Eve before children was the only night I would actually be out before 10pm (now that’s when I’m ready for bed) and I would be usually too drunk to remember the clock striking midnight. I would spend more on entry to somewhere than I would on an entire outfit now and would spend a small fortune on a double fare taxi home.

My last New Years Eve before getting pregnant.

These days New Years Eve is very different event and pretty pointless one at that. If I am fortunate enough to receive a New Years Eve invite it is now around a friend’s house, it’s a bring your own bottle and make sure you don’t forget your child when leaving kind of party. One parent will always now be driving as there is no way we can handle the prospect of a long taxi wait or even worse the double priced taxi fare home. The party is low key, we talk about school problems, the children are running around, over tired and hyped at the prospect of seeing midnight. The problem is the children don’t last and need to go to bed, one of our group is probably pregnant and one of us has probably just had a baby.

The other option for us is to stay in, watch Jools Holland, have a few drinks and be in bed as soon as the last firework has lite up London. We don’t dare drink excessively as no one wants a hangover whilst dealing with children who show a complete disregard to having a lay in, even after a 11pm bedtime. Not only are they up early they will also be whingeing all day, overtired from the sleep they missed the night previous. I still have dreams that in a few years we can spend New Years Eve dancing around as a family like the scene from The Holiday, but only time can tell.

A more civilized New Years Eve with my sister last year.

I’ll leave my nights out to another day in the year, where it isn’t too busy, I don’t have to pay to get into a pub, I can afford a taxi home and most importantly I can get a babysittter. On the bright side at least I always get a kiss at midnight, even if it maybe my sleeping children.

Happy New Year to you all, see you in 2017.

 

 

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New year and a new start

A New Year and a new start

Just a few days left until I can say goodbye to 2016 and roll on 2017. 2016 has been so horrid for so many people I know and so many people I don’t. I do have some great memories, but unfortunately everything has been clouded in between. This year I did get to go on one of my best friends amazing Hen Party in Cambridge, then her fabulous wedding where I was a bridesmaid. I also got to go on two holidays and a few days break in England. I saw Miss J grow up and leave me to go to school for the first time and have subsequently watched her blossom and grow with confidence. I do unfortunately have many unhappy memories especially a particularly dark time in October, when I had a break down.

Mr T turned 1 this year.

This year my confidence and self-esteem have been shattered and I have doubted myself as a parent and a wife. Postnatal depression brought me to my knees and caused me so much suffering, that I’m sure will have a lasting impact to me for years. Anxiety had ruined my day to day life and the depression had made me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself. I have been a pretty crappy mother and only met my children’s basic needs for much of year, consumed with my own battle.

In Cambridge at one of my best buddies hen party.

I found my blog this year in September and found my own little space that was just for me. I have my own website where I can write whatever my heart desires. I read back through old blog posts and can see progress and I can make sense of my feelings whilst typing them out. Blogging has been my saviour in a world where I had no time for me anymore.

My favourite family picture of the year when I was a bridesmaid.

I know I can leave this year and hold my head high knowing I did the best I could in the situation I was in. I have let go of guilt, excepted that things don’t need to be perfect and that it is ok to not be ok. I have got my confidence back and I have learnt so much about myself in this year. I have always sought approval and still do to some extent, but I have also learnt that I need to love and look after myself before worrying about others opinions.

I am not one for resolutions, but this past year has changed me so much that I am willing to try new things. I plan to get fit, not lose weight, not starve, I mean get fit and lose inches and gain confidence. I will not being standing anywhere near my scales and will be committing to the gym. By getting fit I also mean mentally, I will be going for counselling, investing time into my self and caring about my wellbeing.

2017 I am ready for what you have to offer and ready to fight for my happiness. I will leave this post with a quote from the amazing late Carrie Fisher, who sums it up all so well.

I don’t feel particularly messed up. I’ve always been quite sane about being insane. Carrie Fisher 21/10/56 – 27/12/16

 

 

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