PMSing. Hard!

Bloating – check

Weight gain due to fluid retention (and bloating) – check

Appetite disruptions – check (double check if you count wanting to eat the content on the house and then not wanting to eat at all)

Headaches – check

Boobache – check

Mood swing – check

Anger fuse – what effing fuse? I mean, check.

So here it is, the raw honest truth about massively PMSing. I’m not normally a sufferer, but I want to rip out somebody’s throat today.

How the he’ll can’t you gain 4lbs since yesterday body? It’s certainly not funny. So now you’ve got me (well a combo of you bloated self doubtingness, and man) waiting for Chinese deliver and it’s after 10pm.

I’m so unbelievably angry for no reason, at everything it’s funny. Or at least it will be, when I’ve bled out for 5 days not died and slept. Now I’m a little less angry because the gin kicked in. Another thing I blame bloating for. Two single measures of gin and I’m done. Like not drunk drunk, but slightly squiffy. Squiffy enough to shout about PMS.

Being a woman is hard bloody work.

Now don’t get me wrong, we have the pleasure of pregnancy and child birth. Yes, childbirth is painful but the whole process is amazing and for the most parts enjoyable. But periods? Then when your done with that menopause?!

Who thought of that? Who decided that women would just bleed and then have hot flushes? Oh yeah and to top it off, most women don’t get better with age. I’ve already decided I’m going to be a ‘glam-ma’ when I’m older (if we have grandbabies [in the very distant future]).

Takeout is still not here and the gin is wearing off. Not a good sign for the delivery driver. Best of luck to that guy!

Xoxo, L

** edit** takeaway didn’t turn up till 11pm and the feeling of wanting to rip someone’s throat out and feed it to them (physically impossible, I know) has returned. Oh good luck to anyone crossing me tomorrow. I don’t even want to cross me.

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Sit Still

Have you ever tried to take a photograph of a nine month old child? Yes? How much of a workout is that?

Heads up, it’s a picture dump post…

I had the brilliant idea when walking back from the village. I bought Dela a bubble wand, sensory play and all that. Yeah I’m down with baby sensory. Love the stuff in fact. ‘Wouldn’t it be cute’ I thought ‘to get a picture of her with bubbles around when she’s looking up at them’.

Optimistic me.

We started in our dark and (currently) shabbily decorated living room. Dela didn’t have a huge reaction to the actual bubbles, she was more interested in the wand so kept crawling straight to me to grab it. And I’ll tell you for nowt (Yorkshire term) it’s really difficult to take a picture, blow bubbles and fend off a child with grabby hands. As you can see from this picture of the first batch (oh there were many), the backdrop is awful and the baby isn’t even paying attention to the glossy bubbles falling around her.

‘I know’ my inner monologue piped up again ‘let’s go in Dela’s room and try with a nice, bright backdrop’. Tucking the baby under arm and doing a light jog up the stairs (she finds this hilarious), pop her on the rug in her room and we are joined by the menagerie. Yep, all three cats and the demon dog followed. So we’re sat (all of us) in a white and pink room and I’m blowing bubbles and trying to keep the baby in one place and the dog and cats out of shot. And breath.

Ushered the dog back down the stairs. Cats revert to basking in the sun on the window sill. Dela wanted to be everywhere but where I plonked her. In a wise moment I though the standing fan would make a great bubble blower, I’d still have to hold the wand but it would do the blowing.

No. Just no.

The fan blew the bubbles in an upward frenzy and popped against the walls. Sigh. Still no nice photo.

Dogs pushed his nose through Dela’s bedroom door, cats sat hissing at him, Dela is chasing the cats round on her hands and knees. ‘Maybe an outfit change’ inner Lotty chimes into the chaos. The bubbles now lost in the mix.

I westle with the baby to change her outfit. For every item of clothing I took off her she made a dash for a cat. “DAT” she’s shouting them. “No Delilah sit still, let mummy just… urgh” she’s pinned India to the floor and started to ‘pat pat the cat’. I’m so pleased India is the softest kitty ever, I’m afraid any other cat would have swiped out for this treatment. Lucky, lucky Dela. I shuffle my backdrop as she’s distracted by the purry furry, grab her and set her down and start snapping.

As you can see it went really well!

She got adventurous and crawled between her wardrobe and cot, but then she got stuck so had a melt down. “Delilah will you sit still!” I felt like I was going to follow suit with the melt down front.

She gave me the run around, but apart from the ‘I got stuck’ melt down we were pretty happy. A fidget but happy all the same. Finally, finally I got a couple of okay shots. Some are a little hazy, but I liked them anyway and no bubbles in sight.

Im no photographer as you can very much see, but we got there in the end. The best bit was she crashed out for a nap as soon as I put her down. All that run around really helped.

Star cushion was from Next (last year). Rug from Ikea and Delilah’s all-in-one from George @ Asda.

Now I’m going to fall in a heap on the sofa and enjoy a glass of wine. Happy Friday Lovers.

Xoxo, L.

Just a Moment

I took a moment to not write last night. I’ve been drowning in everything. House work, no break from taking care of every one else, feeling inadequate and uncomfortable in the body I have at the moment and just not having time to just breath purely for myself.

I am proud and pleased to say I put everyone before me, but I just needed a moment. A simple, selfish moment when I’m only me. When I’m not mummy or fiancee or daughter or granddaughter or housekeeper or menagerie owner. A silent moment of nothingness. The thing about being an introvert is that I crave a little down time. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my tribe. I love them a million times over and more, and I would do anything for them.

I keep thinking I’ll try get back to running maybe 3 times a week. Get up earlier and just get out and alone for just 30 mins for a run maybe with Demon dog, although he makes running so very difficult. Might start fulfilling my needs as an introvert. It might improve my fuse, because currently the smallest thing sets me off.

It’s certainly worth a shot.

On the upside, this weather is glorious! We’re enjoying it completely, and tomorrow Delilah gets to meet my godmother for the first time and we are very much looking forward to seeing them. We intend to get together at the park, the one with a decent cafe. It means that Ems and Dela and N (my oldests friends son/my godmother’s grandson) can have a play in the sun and we can have a coffee and a chat.

Yesterday Dela and I went to play at Nana’s while the lads were at Airsoft. Dela likes her splashing bowl, and stole my icelolly. Fun was had by all.

I hope you are enjoying the the, And taking care of yourselves. We all need to do that, and I need to practice what I preach.

Xoxo, L.

20,000

20,000 steps. Well that’s topped up my workout from first thing this morning! Winning!

Anyone who read yesterday’s post will know I ordered my shopping online. One item on my list was coconut oil. I’m cooking super healthy and this is the oil I prefer to use. Now I have on the substitutes, meaning if the supermarket doesn’t have what I’ve ordered I will get an alternative.

3 of my items were substituted. Desiccated coconut. Just a swap out for a different brand. Great, okay. Fabulous in fact. At least I got this item. Second was almond milk, I use it in my shakes. Again just a brand swap. So perfectly fine. Coconut oil. Let me reiterate that. Coconut oil. My coconut oil was replaced with CREAMED COCONUT! Just what?!

Can someone please tell me (other than the word coconut) what these products have in common? I have no words. I think a closer item would have been olive oil or any kind of oil. Needless to say I refused this item at the door and will go coconut oil-less until I find some.

Tuesday’s are our out and about days with Dela’s Nana. We took a long walk, a coffee, a play in the park and a mini (healthy) picnic. My neice threw most of her sandwich on the floor because it obvs the best game in the world. Dela fell asleep at lunch time so missed the lot. I’m of the opinion that you shouldn’t wake a sleeping baby, especially for food. She will always eat once she’s woken up, you wake her, she might not nap again and be ratty for the rest of it.

For dinner we used up my pre prep’d courgette and bacon slice. I made some chocolate chip banana bread, and some peanut butter bubble crunch. There’s also a picture of my oats, which were heaven for breaky. If you haven’t tried frozen raspberries yet, go do it now. They’re like little frozen ice pops.

All in all a good day. And no disastrous happening so far, and it’s all most bed time.

Xoxo, L.

Branching Out

I’m giving myself a task next week. I’m going to make the effort to go to a baby related group every day.

I am, without a doubt an introvert. I am happy in my own little world, but that little world is mighty small sometimes. I never fall out with anyone, I simply loose contact. Although this hasn’t had a major impact on my life, I am worried that I don’t keep friends close enough to lean on if I ever need it. Maybe a selfish outlook, but I see everyone has someone. My closest friends are either miles away or just as good as I am for keeping in contact.

So the plan is to make some mum friends. I managed today perfectly well.

We always spend Tuesday with my mum, and my sweet niece. Today way no different. We walked the 3 and a half mile trip to Brighouse and tried out a little play gym called Rowley Poleys. I’ve been once before with my sister-in-law and the kiddies loved it. Tons of activities for them, different sections with different toys in as well as good facilities and a sweet little cafe. I spoke with two other mums and had no issue. I’m not shy, I’m just in my own little bubble most of the time. The other mums were truly lovely and shared their birth stories with me. I do hope to meet them again some time, they’ve almost restored my faith in other parents. After a strange encounter with a mum, who tried to sell me a pram while I put my daughter in a pram to leave a play group, I was convinced I was better off without mum friends.

Delilah had a blast in the ball pool section. Her big cousin threw raisins at her from a high chair while she sucked the life out if a tomato when they stopped for lunch(still no teeth).

Me and mum were done in by the time we had walked home up that huge hill on the way back from Brighouse. At least we hit the step count for the day. We did however get caught in the rain. Rainhoods up babies!

I know I’m bias, but she is the cutest. My little sunshine.

Xoxo, L

Mums: Were, Are and Will Be

It’s been a day of making cookies, drinking tea and long walks with my long dog.

Mother’s Day here in the UK. So for all the mums, for all the mums to be and for all the people that hope to be one day. For the men who take the role, aunts, grandparents and adoptive parents through any circumstance: Happy Mother’s day!

I made pin wheel shortbread cookies. It was, undoubtedly, an experiment. Which, by all accounts turned out pretty well. Although I think next time I will try to make the swirl more prominent. They’re still cute cookies. I intent to post up the recipe later this week, with step by step pictures (because I remembered to take them this time).

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My long walk with Aro (the 8 and a bit month old Grey Hound Cross), AKA Demon Dog (currently sat by my side licking the carpet), took me to Wibsey. I paid a fleeting visit to my Papa and his Girlfriend, to drop of cute biscuits, boxed with the important addition of tea and of course, daffodils.  Demon dog decided it was a good idea to use his very long body and attempt to jump every wall we came near. Which on this particular rout, was aprox 79.9% of it. I looked like I was walking a freaking Kangaroo, in fact he has to be related to one, there just has to be one in his bloodline somewhere.

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The rest of the afternoon I spent seeing my mum. My wonderful, beautiful best friend. The woman who helped to make me who I am. Simply spending time drinking tea and rambling to each other is a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon together. I could ask for no more. We’ve not always seen eye to eye, especially when I went through rebellious teen phase and refused to come home after countless Friday and Saturday nights at the pub. The time I nearly, almost nearly kicked the window out of the back of her Saab because someone thought I couldn’t handle the fact my boyfriend (at the time) had cheated on me so called her to come collect me from my best friend’s birthday party. Which for the record I was completely OK, everything was under control apart from the fact I was hell bent on revenge.

Mum was there. There to listen to me cry and scream non-sense. Always there. I know I’m majorly lucky to have her. I also know that I probably don’t tell her enough of the time what she means to me. So despite my thinking that Mother’s day, Valentine’s day and other countless days are a commercial load of bollocks to make money, it is a good time to remind people what they mean to us. It reminds me to tell her I appreciate and love her. Completely.

Mother's Day

Here’s to Mum!

L xox