Get a career dear…

I’ve always envied those people who have known from a young age what they have wanted to do and pursued the right channels in education and life to get there. I never knew what I wanted to do, I think half the problem stems from having too much choice. To name a few I’ve wanted to be, an actress, an artist, a psychologist, a spaceman (until I watched that awful George clooney film where they spun so much it made me feel sick) a mermaid (that ones a long shot…but hey you’ve gotta have dreams) and everything in between. 

I had acting lessons when I was younger, for one term. I really enjoyed them but at the time I don’t think my mum could afford them and also told me that she didn’t think acting was a real career option for me…maybe she was right but they’ll always be an empty space on my shelf where that Oscar should’ve been πŸ˜‰

One thing I’ve always loved is writing but I guess I never thought of it as a career option until a few years ago. I would love to be a published author one day. To see my words printed in an actual book…that one day may be turned into a play or a film that I (I mean real actors) could perform in. But again I get the doubts, will it be good enough? What if no one likes it? What’s the point you’ll never get published anyway?! So I don’t get any further than a few scrambled and rambling pages in a notebook. If you are a published author I take my metaphorical hat off to you…it’s hard work, but I imagine is so, so worth it! 

So basically what I’m trying to say in a round about way is, if you don’t know what career path you want to pursue yet – don’t worry we all get there in the end, it just takes some longer than others to realise their dreams…and even if your mum says you can’t do that…you can! Unless it’s like a serial killer or something…you definitely shouldn’t pursue that haha! So JK Rowling…watch out πŸ˜‰ X 

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Two years ago…

Two years ago today was the last time I heard your voice before you became too medicated to speak. I told you how much I loved you and that you were my dad in my heart and always would be, how proud I was of you and that you were my idol. Even though MS had taken your body down bit by bit, your beautifully funny, sarcastic, spirited and clever mind never faltered. You ran a successful business even though you hadn’t left the house in years through being wheelchair bound, smoked like a trooper, washed down your medicine with a Jack Daniels and coke and always enjoyed life even though you were dealt some bad cards. Your laugh was infectious, your smile lit up the room. Although you could be a pain in the ass at times, like making me roll you 10,000 cigarettes a day (may be over reacting a little bit) I’d do it all over again for just one more day with you. Thank you for teaching me what a real dad should be. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for the true love you made my mum feel (I’ve never seen two people more made for each other than you two) and thank you just simply for coming into our lives. I love you and I miss you everyday. I may not have shared your blood but I shared your heart…and that’s more than enough for me. Two years ago I went to sleep holding your hand, you may not have woken up…but you live on everyday in my heart πŸ’— 

Under the bonnet…

Why don’t a lot of schools do Easter parades anymore? My mum has a lovely photo of me doing mine when I was younger and I really wanted one of my daughter. We love doing anything crafty so decided to make one anyway. It was such a cheap but effective and fun way to spend the afternoon.

I picked up a plain bonnet, some chicks, some light up eggs and some brown wool all from poundland and poundworld – the chicks were reduced to 75p and poundworld had a 3 for 2 offer on their Easter craft section so that was great. 


After deciding where we wanted to place everything we attached it all mainly using the wool and even attached dangly mini eggs…incase she gets hungry obvs! Haha! But all in all it was a lovely way to spend the afternoon with her for the grand old price of about Β£5 and it looked really effective…even if I do say so myself. Have a lovely Easter guys x 

Where’s my keys?…

Recently I was sent a Recover-key. If you’re anything like me and always forgetting things or leaving items behind (I like to blame it on baby brain – how long can we use that excuse for?) or likewise if you let your baby play with your keys so you can shop in peace and then get to your car and realise the baby isn’t holding your keys anymore, what do you do? Obviously retracing your steps and going back into the shops you’ve just been in would be a start but with recover key…if someone finds the keys before you even realise they’re missing – everyone’s a winner! 

Recover-key is a bright yellow keyring (so it’s easier to spot) with a 24/7 telephone number,email address & It has a four digit ID number unique to you. So when ‘Mr Smith’ finds your keys he can call the telephone number & hopefully reunite you with them. 

After speaking to Mr Smith, recover key would call you and act as a middle man – arranging a suitable and safe place that you and Mr Smith could meet up to get your keys back or to tell you where Mr Smith has left them for you (in a bar or a shop). 

In theory recovery key is a great idea, but this is only if everyone plays their part – like calling the phone number as soon as they find them etc… I think when recover key is more well known people would be more likely to do this.

The company only holds your house address until it has sent out your keyring. After that it deletes it for data protection and it only stores your phone number and email address so it can contact you when your keys have been found. 

Thankfully I have not lost my keys since recieving my key ring but I do now have a bit more peace of mind that they would be returned to me than I did before. 

Recover key is great because you only pay a one off fee & there’s no subscription needed or any hidden costs…if you’re quick I think they currently have a half price deal on their website;

http://www.recover-key.co.uk/ 

So go and check it out asap! 

Minion Beanboozled challenge…

We were lucky enough to be sent some new minion beanboozled Jelly beans to try. I say lucky but some of the flavours consisted of dog food, dead fish & rotten egg to name a few. We haven’t got the actual spinner for the game so my partner and my daughter wrote down the colours on bits of paper, put them in a bowl and then whatever colour they pulled out they had to eat. 

It started off well with a few tutti-fruitti & coconut flavours being picked out, but it wasn’t long before mouldy cheese and barf hit the palette making eveyone gag! Haha! 

It was like watching a bush tucker trial…yes I admit it…I didn’t play. You need a strong stomach for it. 

Lulu picked her paper out the bowl…it said green. She popped a green jelly bean in her mouth then promptly ran off to the bathroom, my partner then picked green aswell and after the first bite his face turned the same colour. He also ran off to the bathroom – it seems minion fart was this houses breaking point 😷 great game and great fun just stay away from the green ones! 

πŸ“½ watch it here; https://youtu.be/1FPzlG9oTAU

What’s your emergency?…

Recently I’ve been teaching my six year old about what to do in an emergency. You hear these stories about the wonderful and brave children that have saved a parents, siblings or a friends life and although I hope she’s never in a situation where she has to do that – I want her to have an understanding of what to do if she is.

Firstly, I started off with 999 and told her if there was a fire, a burglar, someone was choking or hurt to call that number. She asked ‘How will I know who I need out of an ambulance, fire engine or a police officer?’ I said that someone would answer the phone and if you were unsure who you needed to just tell the operator what’s happened and they will send out whoever they think is most appropriate to deal with the situation you describe to them.

As many of us do, I have a password lock on my mobile phone and if I was unable or incapable of making the call she would have to do it. She knows my password but in a stressful situation she might forget it so I showed her how you can still make an emergency call on a locked I-phone.

Incase you were unaware, when you swipe to unlock your phone two options come up at the bottom corners, cancel or emergency. I told her to press on emergency and then (in an emergency) call 999. You can also set up your ‘Medical ID’ so if something had happened to you, a doctor or nurse etc would be able to contact whoever you had put as your emergency contact numbers and tell them where you were and if you were okay. You can also put down if you take any medications or are allergic to anything so they don’t give you any medication that could potentially do more harm than good.

I don’t know if six is too young to teach her this, I think you can gage for yourself whether you think your child is mature enough to know what you’re telling them and only use it in a life or death situation or whether they’ll start calling 999 every time you refuse to buy them a kinder egg while out shopping! But, in all seriousness I was trying to equip her with some potentially life saving knowledge as I know she can handle it.

I read recently that St John Ambulance are trying to get first aid taught to school children and I definitely think that should happen. You never know what’s around the corner and I think we should all be a bit more clued up on how to help people in any medical or emergency situation…You never know – it could just be your life they help save! x

All I ever wanted…

Have you seen the gorgeous Melimelo bags? There’s one that resonated with me so much. The slogan on it was ‘All I ever wanted was everything’ and I am so guilty of this. But what do you class as everything? Is anyone ever truly happy and satisfied with what they have? It’s human nature – we always want more.

When I was younger I used to think when I have the perfect house, car, clothes,figure and designer handbags coming out of my ears…that’s when i’ll have ‘made it.’ Approaching 30, renting, covering my lumps and bumps in primark leggings and barely being able to afford a gingerbread house – let alone the dream house on rightmove, I see now that that, in fact was not ‘everything.’

Seeing people I love, fighting just to stay alive, to have one more sniff of a loved ones head. To get oxygen into their lungs. To hear I love you one more time. You realise that however lovely it would be to have the materialistic items – none of it means anything really. You wont want to hug your designer shoes when the end comes, you wont be flicking through photo albums of your top spec cars, reminiscing about how much money you’ve spent over the years. It will be the people that you shared your life with, the ones you gave life too and the friends along the way…that’s who you’ll want there, that is what matters. Money may be able to buy you a certain amount of happiness but it cant buy you life.

I am very lucky to have been able to of had two beautiful children that I love with every atom of my being, I have a wonderful partner, mother, siblings and friends. My children have their health and I have mine to be able to look after them and watch them grow – and that, to me…is in fact – MY EVERYTHING.

Christmas past…

I miss the Christmas of the past. Selection boxes were a proper present and the only thing I wanted most in the whole world was a Furby (which I got). You’d have family members coming out of your ear holes there were so many. I remember sitting round that table looking up in awe of everyone being together, merry, full of love – or baileys (or both). 

Year after year of grandads war stories & him falling asleep after dinner clutching my new teddy, uncle stu telling us funny anecdotes or stories about who he was dating at the time, my lovely step dad laughing and drinking a JD and coke, mum and nan pottering around in the kitchen and dancing, my little brother playing with his toys and when she finally came into the world (when I was 16) my little sister being handed around the table like pass the parcel. 

Those days were my happy place. The thing I looked forward to every year. Fast forward the last 10 years and we’ve lost a lot. Grandad went first, followed by nan a year later. Mum and her brother subsequently had a falling out, each year our table decreasing by one. For a few years it was just us; Mum, Mark (my step dad) me, Little bro and sis and that was fine. Then my daughter came along 6 years ago, a brand new addition and another (high) chair around the table. 

Two years ago we were dealt the biggest blow yet. My stepdad Mark passed away after a long battle with MS. He was 52. The following Christmas was the hardest. I lost my Christmas spirit and I don’t think I’ve fully regained it yet. I know I’m lucky to still have my mum, brother, sister, daughter and now my partner and baby boy at the table, but I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness because the ones we’ve lost aren’t there. 

Christmas is not the same. It never will be, but now I get to see it through my beautiful babies eyes. Their nans, grandads, aunties, uncles, sisters, brothers, mums and dads. They’ll have those moments, hear those stories and I hope they cherish them because one day those people won’t be at the table, but your memories will stay with you always. Take lots of pictures, listen to every story, laugh and tell them you love them. Merry Christmas everyone x 


My brother and I in the 90’s πŸ˜±πŸ˜‚

It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it…

Okay, I’m just putting it out there. I envy those women who can give birth & be home for dinner all on the same day. I’ve always dreamed of having my little bundle, being checked over, maybe staying for a night at most then being discharged but that’s never been the case for me. 

My first baby was almost two weeks late, I was due to be induced the following day when she decided she’d had enough of waiting. It was a long, long labour and even though it was my first time I knew something wasn’t quite right. When she did finally enter the world at 9.58pm on the 18th July 2011 she was 10lbs 4oz, had swallowed meconium she had done inside me (the first baby poo) and was very poorly because of it. She was whisked away and placed on a ventilator with tubes here there and everywhere, X-rayed, prodded and it was awful. I hadn’t felt listened too before the birth but I couldn’t fault the care she received after arriving. Yes she was a natural delivery. I know…ouch! She was kept in neo natal for a week, I was on the ward where all the mums and new babies go. Except I didn’t have mine next to me like everyone else. I saw mums come and go. I was kept awake but not by my baby. I had lovely visitors but I always felt that they left disappointed as they could only see me not the baby. But thankfully my gorgeous girl was fine and is now a wonderfully inquisitive six year old. 

 

Fast forward five and a half years after her birth my second child was due. Because of the size of my firstborn I was having regular scans with my little man. I say little but all the way through he was measuring big. In all the scans he had been head down and raring to go, I thought this could be it the ‘perfect birth’ I’d dreamed of, water birth, whale music, home in time for eastenders – the whole shebang! Until the last scan when he decided he’d actually like to enter the world bum first. I was so upset, I tried to have him turned twice but the boy was not for turning and I had to face the reality that one of my biggest birthing fears was imminent – the C section! I was booked in for the 21st March and terrified. The day before C-day I’d done the school run, been to the hospital for blood tests, done some chores at home and for once managed to eat some lunch (I had such horrendous heartburn this pregnancy) when I got up and felt a pop. My waters had broken. I was not prepared, he wasn’t meant to be coming until the following day, I had to get my daughter from school shortly and more importantly I hadn’t shaved my legs in preparation for the arrival haha! Anyway he was ready so after a mad dash to the hospital I was gowned up, drugged up and cut up. My beautiful boy was here 4 days before his due date and weighing in at an impressive 11lbs 7oz. Anyone that says c-section is the easy option I can assure you it’s not. I’d rather give birth naturally any day – even to my ginormous offspring. Another week in hospital seeing people come and go but at least this time he was with me on the ward and he was healthy.


In summary it doesn’t matter how they get here so long as they’re okay and you’re okay. Every woman is different and every baby is different so it’s obvious that every birth is going to be different. It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it…and that’s what gets results 🎼🎀 You’ve got this ladies! X