Catch Up.

Jan 2012: This year has sped past.

Right now life has taken on a different meaning. It's evolving into something I could have never foreseen. I'll update on that later, but for now? I'm struggling to keep my eyes open, my energy levels up and my 'little' photography project under some kind of control. And control is a strange thing. It's an odd word that means nothing in the scheme of children and parenting. 

I wrote a while ago about not wanting to rain on Roman's parade and I think that's why I've taken a back seat with the daily writing. I need to really take a step back and just see him, rather than analyse the day to day. Taking photos allows me this, but writing lets me delve deeper and perhaps to cobble together stories that are sometimes bred out of my emotions that day. This isn't always a fantastic thing ;).

I can't seem to find the energy, time or motivation required for this project, but I know one thing; I must keep going. I hate quitting what I start, especially when I'm so close to completion. We're 9 months down with taking our photos, but only 8 months updated. During the week I just don't have the time that is needed to play catch-up so my plan is this: get everything done this weekend, on Saturday, when I have a few free hours all to myself. Those hours are delicious, so enjoyed, and I spend all week looking forward to them. 

I'm just so tired these days. So, so very tired. I know what I need, but I can't get it; more help. And if I did have it? Resentment from the other side would be felt; even if it wasn't there, it's always there without people speaking about it. I push myself to my absolute limit all the time because I'd rather ruin my health than feel the quiet resentment of others. My brother is visiting us for a week and I'm really, really going to enjoy that time with him. An extra pair of un-resentful hands is always welcome here when Bryan isn't around (the time I feel over whelmed the most.)

You probably think I'm weak or pathetic, or that I don't love my son. I'm not weak because so much has happened in my life, it's built up barriers, defenses, hard skin and I work my butt off every day to provide for my family. Pathetic? It's objective. I don't think I am. And I love Roman but I am sick, I am disabled and I'm doing a lot more than I should be doing. It's ridiculous but then, that's me, it's what I'm about. I take on too much all the time and I hate to sit still without something to do. I'm one of these annoying people who constantly pushes their limits, often times suffering set backs, and I still keep going. It affords me a semi-normal/average life that a lot of people in my position don't have. I'm fortunate but I'm still blooming knackered.

Edit: As I'm writing this I'm alone, with Roman. We're watching some science programme, which is always fun. My kitchen is a mess and it looks like the next 3 Saturdays will not be mine like I imagined. I have no idea when I'll update with 366 posts, but I'm very much behind on posting - and uploading so it's going to take a lot of my time and that's something I don't have right now. Help.

Awkward Family Photos.

This is my favourite photo, maybe ever. And doesn't qualify as an 'awkward family photo.'

A while ago I discovered the awesome website Awkward Family Photos. With each photo I cried tears through fits of laughter; these photos were priceless, but not from a sentimental or quality point of view, nope...as the website suggests these photos were awkward - and incredibly funny with it.

So when I spied these photos in my camera, it put me in mind of the AFP website ;). From Bryan looking like a serial killer to the awkward smile and then the awkward squint I could very well see these photos featured on the AFP website ;). 

Side note: yes, they're lovely. Even the photos that were 'out takes' so to speak are lovely to me because that's my family and despite all of these awkward family photos they make for some lovely (and funny) memories. I will enjoy adding these to my family records.

Don't Go IBM/Lenovo.

In December I decided it was time for a new laptop - my previous one was overheating, touch pad not working and generally reaching the end of it's sorry life. It was long overdue to be replaced, let's be honest here. It had been good to me - it had survived water damage, for goodness sake! - and now it was time for a decent burial. 


Being the money saver that I am I decided to do what all smart money saver's do; wait for the Boxing Day sales. For my readers who aren't familiar with this Boxing Day it is the day after Christmas and many, if not all, retailers have crazy sales. Being a money saver and someone who likes to have convenience on their side I decided Amazon.co.uk was the best place I could find something new. So Bryan went on a search because quite frankly when it comes to computers I think to myself 'whatever is cheapest!' and go with that. He then spotted a bargain laptop; the Lenovo G570. It seemed too good to be true for me, even on a Boxing Day sale. I wanted to wait because something didn't seem right with this low price - but the fact that it was being sold through a credible and trusted on-line store swayed my decision the other way. In fact Bryan said, "it will be fine. It's Amazon." He had a point and Amazon had successfully delivered our previous purchases without event so we went for it.


Well it arrived just fine, everything worked and seemed 'good.' Two weeks later my 'z' key snapped off after Roman threw a book at the keyboard. And I mean it snapped off - clean off. I was angry about this but thought it was a fair cop seeing as it was my/Roman's doing. There wasn't really an awful lot I could do other than suck it up and search for a key. This is impossible to do. Lenovo don't offer spare keys on their site and my model seems to be impossible to buy spare parts for let alone keys.





Feeling frustrated with this situation I got in touch with Lenovo. The American customer service representative who dealt with me was really, really good. And I mean really, really good. They were polite, helpful and wanted to really get to the bottom of the matter. When I explained that their American customer services number was no good for me as I lived in the UK I was then passed onto someone in the European division of customer services. This is where it all went downhill.


First of all I managed to get a key that matched my model - except that it didn't. I bought this from a person who owned a computer shop in Edinburgh and was able to post it out to me. When Bryan went to fit it onto my machine it didn't fit at all and obviously wasn't a fit. Annoying but that was the least of my worries. One night while Bryan was looking at the computer he closed it over gently and the side broke away (pictured.) 





I was really annoyed, as you can imagine. Still, I decided to hear Lenovo out and to see what they'd do for me and my not-even-a-month-old laptop. I learned that once Amazon sell a product then it falls on the company who you bought it from to repair any damage. I learned that my model didn't 'qualify' for an on the spot (home) repair and that it would need to be taken into their depot to be fixed. This would take anywhere between 7-14 days. Now when a company says 7-14 days and they're making a repair I always add on a few extra days to allow for any unexpected problems, so that could mean I wouldn't have a laptop for two weeks or more. Not gonna happen.


I explained that I need this laptop because I work from home and asked, because I am upfront like that, if they would be able to provide me with something while my own laptop was being repaired - a big long shot, I know and their answer is going to be obvious but they couldn't do that. This is where it pays to have your own contents insurance - especially if you're me. 


Their policy sucks and it also inconveniences me. Lenovo/IBM will no doubt argue by saying they've tried to make repairs but when those repairs will lose me business and time from doing my job I can't risk that, especially right now while we're at a busy period and I have authors and others relying on me. Next time I will buy a Dell - which will probably be soon because today the other side of the casing on this Lenovo G570 came loose. Won't be long before the whole thing falls apart, no doubt.


My brother has a Dell laptop and he had a few issues with the touch pad. Dell customer services called him up after he sent them an email about this problem and arranged for an engineer to visit to make an on the spot repair. My brother was in Utah at the time so he left the laptop - and our home address - with the engineer. The first time the engineer called round we were out, so he left us a card with another date and time on it. He arrived a few days later, was very pleasant and didn't spend too long repairing it. "This happens to a lot of them," he told me. "It's a very common problem with these touch pads." After he'd finished his sentence the thing was repaired. He left his card with us should there be any other issues and went on his merry way. Simple. 


Life needn't be hell with a Dell - or is that Nicotinell? Either way, that sentence is true. Life with this Lenovo? An utter pain. I'm about to email them back and grudgingly inform them of the latest shenanigans from this laptop. I'll then have to, again grudgingly, surrender my laptop for repairs. I'm not looking forward to it. But I'm not forking out to repair it out of my own pocket when this is still under warranty. And who knows, maybe they'll take it away for analysis (their words, not mine) and decide it needs a decent burial and that I need a new laptop. Then again I know that won't happen ;). 


I need something that works and is reliable. I'm about to start a new business venture soon (more on that later) and I need something that, you know, works and doesn't look like it fell off the back of a truck. Until then here is my advice: don't buy IBM/Lenovo products. Their customer service is awful, their products are dire and my experience as a whole has been disappointing to say the least.

Making Iced Biscuits - Things To Do With Your Toddler.

 If you read my post about 'iced biscuits' you may be wondering what in the heck 'iced biscuits' actually are. Or maybe you've just stumbled across this post in which case; a BIG hello to you!

If you have a toddler/s then if you're anything like me then you're always on the look out for things to do with them. My favourite thing to do with Roman (my 2 year old) is to cook. I always include him in the process in some way because it keeps him occupied and allows me the freedom of working with my ingredients. I like to cook things that are easy and quick to prepare because goodness knows what's going to happen next with a toddler ;).

With the Jubilee coming up (you know the Queen being the Queen for 60 years) I thought these might make a nice addition to any Jubilee parties going on - yes, some people are having those. How British of them.

Things you'll need:

1. Jelly diamonds - or anything to decorate the top of your biscuits. I bought these because they are a vegan brand but you can use chocolate drops or any other kind of candy/sweet that will sit on top of your 'biscuit' (cookie.)

2. One pack of biscuits. Typical in Britain for this activity we will use 'Digestives.' They are a semi-sweet wheat and malt biscuit with a smoothe surface - ideal for icing. I know that in the US/Canada you'd usually have to import these biscuits or find them in the International section of select supermarkets but you can use any smoothe surface cookies/biscuits of your choice, they'll work just as well.

3. Icing sugar/confectioners sugar/powdered sugar. You'll need enough that you can get 3 heaped table spoons out of it.

Things you'll need (not pictured):

1. Two table spoons (one for heaping icing sugar and the other for mixing. It's important not to mix the wet spoon with the dry icing sugar.)

2. Two containers to put your icing sugar mixture into - one for your toddler and one for you. 

3. If I have missed anything here I can only apologise, if you notice that do leave me a comment to let me know - I need all the help I can get.

* STEP ONE *

This is fairly straight forward: dump three heaped table (big) spoons of icing sugar into your mixing bowl. Fill a mug of water and gradually add drops of water, mixing as you go, until your icing looks like this:

Yeah, it looks like glue.

This is also the point where you'll want to give a little mixing bowl to your toddler to keep them from going crazy in their chair ;). And be prepared that whatever you give them to 'mix' will actually just be consumed by them.

Get your glue...sorry, I mean your icing and put a good dollop (one tablespoon) in the centre of your biscuit. Let it naturally spread rather than spreading it yourself - because this is messy, yo!

Okay once your biscuits and icing have done their thing and decorate with jelly diamonds (diamond jubilee, get it?), Jelly Tots (are they exclusively British?), any kinds of sweet/candies of your choice.

And you're done. 

Make as many as you can cram down your neck.

I had a half of one of the biscuits because my dentist told me to cut down on my sugar. Since then I've not really stuck to that (oops.)

Gratitude and The Art of Being Grateful: A Husband and a Father.

When I was much, much younger than I am now my parents always encouraged me to be 'grateful' for things and at the time I didn't really understand what they were getting at. Mostly they'd remind me to be grateful for the things I had or the things I was given; I always, always thanked people if they gave me something (and yes even when I didn't really like something) as a child because my parents taught me to say 'please' and 'thank you.' 


As an adult I found myself saying please and thank you too much, far too much. To the point where I was thanking people for things I'd done for them. That's okay, I suppose, as in those instances I saw that they provided me with a chance to either be a better person or to serve them and to take something from it. But a lot of the time I was overly thankful, so full of thanks that I wasn't sure it was entirely genuine. More like a conditioned response with no meaning behind it. I also didn't want to offend or upset anyone and really show I was so grateful for them. 


Then I spent time with Bryan. Who never used to say thank you or please...unless you count saying 'thank you' (danke schoen) in German. At first this really bothered me. Why? Because he wasn't being 'proper.' And I was pretty sure that when he met my family and started saying 'danke' to them as a thanks that they'd think he was rude. I'm not a snob in the least. I don't care about people speaking in really fast, heavy Scottish accents. I don't care about where someone went to school or uni - or if they didn't/don't plan on uni. I don't care about the job someone does - if they're working, they're working. I don't care if someone is on state benefits or if they are receiving other assistance in order to, you know, live. I don't even care if someone is an heir/heiress and living off the fruits of their parents labour - okay this one does bother me a little but after watching 2 Broke Girl$ I'm a little less bothered ;).


So, to cap off what I'm saying: I'm not a snob, I don't care about your bank account, schooling, job or what neighbourhood you grew up in as long as you treat others with courtesy and kindness we'll have no real problems. Some of us know what basic manners are, some of us do not. And others have different standards to mine - it's okay. It's just that I had never met anyone who was so uncomfortable with saying 'please' and 'thank you.' And of course now I have met a lot of people who think that 'please' and 'thank you' is no big deal. More than I've met in my entire life.


My previous relationships to my marriage were filled with gratitude - or you know, I like to think so ;). My ex boyfriend really messed up Valentines Day one year; declared it no big deal and bought me nothing, so the next year we celebrated it for a month. I got a present every single week. All his own idea. And once you start a tradition, it becomes just that, so for the next 2-3 years of our relationship that was how we celebrated. I'll say one thing for my ex; he messed up. A lot. And I mean a lot. But when he made it up to me he did it in style. And he was like me; bumbling at times and full of 'pleases' and 'thank you's' for everyone. 


But it's funny that I have those experiences of gratefulness and yet I still believe that the only person who has ever done the best by me is Bryan. Respect is a bigger gift than a month long Valentines. Really knowing someone, asking them sneaky questions to uncover the best gift for them and keeping it secret from them...that's beyond anything anyone has ever done for me. There are other things that Bryan has gone above and beyond on - and yes he still has a way to go believe it or not - but I realised very quickly that saying 'danke' is his way of saying thanks. I let it go. I figured if it bothered my family so much that they'd either mention it to me or they could take it up with him - for goodness sake, they're all adults and it's their business if they care so much! (I'm pretty sure they couldn't give a flying fig.) 


This marriage is filled with gratefulness, a lot of it unspoken thank yous and just knowing we're grateful to spend all this time with each other. It's also taught me that having manners isn't everything - some of the most horrible people, or the people who I've let hurt me the most have been filled to the brim with manners but then filled to the brim with lack of respect for me and only cared about their own wants. Manners aren't everything in a person and they can be taught. Being an inherently good and nice person isn't really something you can teach someone. Being an attentive father and husband is something men choose to be, it is not something I can force on anyone.


So today I am so grateful for Bryan - the first photo you're seeing below? Us on a horribly busy train in the morning. I'd decided the night before, on a total whim, that I wanted to see my gran on a public holiday right after Christmas (one of the worst times to travel) and Bryan said okay. That was a two hour trip with a nearly two year old mostly getting squashed by travelers - or better, tutted at for daring to bring a (quiet) child onto public transport. Bryan just lifted our son from his buggy and sat him on his lap, no prompting or asking from me. 

In the supermarket. Roman was having one of his 'I don't want to be in this buggy' moments - which are rare - and people were staring at me as though I was this horrible child abuser and could control my child's rages at the drop of a hat. I was worked up and stressed. Bryan lifted Roman out and onto his shoulders. All was well in the world and a few passersby may have melted at the scene.

I started out this blog post not really struggling with the things I could say - in fact my problem has been to curb my word count - and yeah that's sickening blah blah blah I know but it doesn't make any of this less true. Yes he annoys me at times and we do have our disagreements and 'discussions' but that still doesn't make any of it less true, either...he's present as a father and as a husband. Does it mean he's perfect? Heck no. He still has things he needs to learn, as we all do, and he still needs to constantly improve but what I will say is that he learns quicker than anyone I know and I'll say it again: it still doesn't make what I've said any less true.

I'm grateful and my gratitude cup runneth over when it comes to Bryan.

_______________________________________________________________

Next time: A Home.

Yesterday.

I got all panicked, anxious and crazy yesterday. I don't know why. Perhaps it's the cough I have sitting in my throat threatening to spread down into my chest and then the fear of not being able to breathe properly when I lie down. It's just that every time I tried to work, to do something productive, I felt like it wasn't happening. I berated myself because I needed to be productive, yet here I was poised and ready to leap onto the keyboard to complete the many tasks I needed to do and I couldn't work up enough energy to do any of it.


The more I worried about it, the more anxious and crazy I became. The more time I spent trawling through websites that wouldn't help me and looking for answers in inspirational things people in the past have said. What I really should have done is stopped working for the day, thrown in the towel there and then to take a step back. Instead of trying to push myself forward when I just wasn't going anywhere or making any progress.


I often look at mothers. I have a whole board dedicated to mothers on my Pinterest (sorry I'm being a hipster) that's how much they fascinate me. I can't remember what I thought about mothers before I became one, I honestly can't. I think I thought they were brave for going through childbirth, sometimes multiple times, and then brave for spending 24/7 with their children, often times without husbands to help or doing it on their own (yes there are single dads and stay-at-home dads out there, but we're talking mothers today.) 


It's the same way I viewed sex and relationships. Yeah, bare with me on this one and I promise not to divulge anything explicit. It's just... way before you are married, say you are ten years old, old enough to understand the biology of how babies are made and the mechanics of how a woman gets pregnant and you're in this weird transitional phase of semi-understanding the changes in your body and the changes around you; mostly the difference in the way people speak to you, how they treat you (mostly awkwardly because you're not this cute toddler/6 year old anymore.) It's that curious time in your life where you so desperately want to cling onto playing with dolls and requesting a toy tea set for your Christmas but you really, really want to grow up as well, to open up this world of discovery and just be a part of this adult world you see grown-ups around you moving in, yet you're not a part of the child world or the adult world so you have a rose coloured view of what the adult world is like.


At 10 years old I knew more than my peers about these biological and mechanical goings on in the adult world. Children of my age, and perhaps a year or so older, seemed to know very little. It made me feel weird, awkward, perverse even. And what was worse was that I actually started to like people. Boys. I don't think I ever had a crush on a girl or had a question mark next to my straight sexuality. I just always knew I liked boys. 


At 10 obviously I was very much too young to engage in a relationship with a boy - the ones at church were okay, but they were all my friends, sort of like family, you know? And to be honest I didn't see myself in a relationship. I remember when I turned 12, it was a strange time for me. Boys...they liked me. And it was super duper awkward for me because I might like them, but I wouldn't date them. Despite this, I was asked several times on dates, friends brothers would speak to me on the phone (the most awkward thing in the world), asked to school dances, asked to be several people's girlfriend (the worst thing you could ask me at 12.)


Well, one time, I was asked to be someone's girlfriend and for once I actually really liked this person. It is mortifying what I did next and even at my age of 26 I'm still mortified and really want to apologise to this person (but I'm just too embarrassed to do that!) if I ever meet them again - which isn't going to happen, of course. 


So, I really liked this boy. He was very close to me; in my life and in my heart. I honestly considered him a very dear and true best friend and when I started to notice I had feelings for him...it was so weird. I remember the day I realised it. He was turning pages in a book (in a class) and suddenly I noticed the way his hands turned pages; something I hadn't noticed before but just melted me on that day. I felt really strange for liking that, but I couldn't shy away from one fact; I really liked him. It grew and grew to the point where everything he said and did was one big awww.


One of my friends had been talking with him and he decided he was going to pluck up the courage to ask me to be his girlfriend because I was giving a lot of signs that I liked him, too. Which was definitely a fair assessment and very astute of him, I must say. Well, as 12/13 year olds do (my friend was 13 at the time) she told me about the conversation with this boy. I really just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, I was soooo embarrassed that anyone would have 'feelings' for me. I felt this panicky craziness wash over me and despite me really, really liking this boy I knew I had to say no to his question. Why? Well, because I am stupid. And I was 12 years old. And because me being his girlfriend? It wouldn't have elevated my social status. And yeah...that's pretty much the reason. Because I was a shallow, shallow and horrible 12 year old who, at times, cracked under peer pressure.


This friend hadn't exactly been very nice about delivering the ins and outs of the conversation with this boy to me (and to this day I'm mystified as to why he even confided in her.) And it was very clear she thought me and him together would be somewhat of a running joke. So, even though I really liked him, I wanted to fit in with people more. Which, more than anything, just hurt me a lot.


The problem is that I was making it obvious I liked him. We flirted, we had had some really deep conversations (as deep as 12 year olds can get) and I feel like I wore my heart on my sleeve with him - I wanted to make it obvious I liked him so that he'd show his interest and so I'd know. I didn't expect, or really want, anything more. It was too scary to think of it going beyond what we had and when we flirted, shared words and wore our hearts on our sleeves it was comfortable for me - it was my view on what a relationship should be. My rose coloured view, if you like. 


Well, this boy, he had his conversation with me and it was so sweet. He made this whole speech about how he was so happy I liked him, that he wanted to do all these things for me and then he asked if I'd be his girlfriend. I said no and couldn't look at him because honestly in that moment I wanted to cry. I knew he wouldn't give me a second chance and to be honest I didn't even want to give myself a second chance. I'd done a really terrible thing. Something I regret even to this day. And I wish I knew how to say 'I'm really sorry for how I treated you all those years ago' to this person but I'm too much of a wimp to even do that, except...am I really? With Facebook and whatnot I could easily find this person and explain things but my worry is that I've held this guilt and these feelings for all these years and they had forgotten about it, that it caused me all this anxiety (to the point of eating me up on days like yesterday) for nothing.


We remained quite close friends for years after this incident, with about a year and a half of awkward silences when we were forced into groups together, but soon getting over this weirdness between us once he got a girlfriend. To this day I think me saying 'no' to him was the right decision, but I made that decision for the wrong reasons. I should have said no because I was 12 years old, didn't need a relationship to add complications to my life and because I wasn't mature enough to handle a relationship - I really, really wasn't. I was still secretly playing with my Barbies at 12 so a relationship plus all the other drama of my life at that age would have been a disaster. Also, this person knew my position on relationships - I didn't want to date until I was 16 - so a lot of the time I tell myself 'well they knew this and should have respected it' but it doesn't change my own crappy behaviour. I should have stopped to really think about what I wanted to do, then explained this to the boy. I shouldn't have left him at 'no', high and dry. 


Also, this boy I said no to? He reminds me so much of Bryan it's unreal. Obviously Bryan is a better fit for me, we have a child together, are married and I'm older and wiser...but yeah. This boy is like Bryan and Bryan is like that boy I said no to all those years ago. And for the whole time we've been married there are times where this story comes and bites me on the bum and I just think 'I'm so glad I didn't know Bryan when I was 12. I'm glad he wasn't the person I said no to.' 


So before I was faced with this awkward decision at this awkward age, I used to look from the outside in at relationships and think to myself 'people in relationships are brave.' And the thought of a relationship used to cause my heart to speed up (not in a good way) and my breathing to go shallow; that is not someone who is emotionally ready for a relationship. And at 12 I was not ready. But I still feel very guilty and anxious about the way I made my decision and the way I left things with this person.


If you recognise yourself from this story; I am sorry. I was a terrible person at 12, what can I say? 

Changes And Voting.

Buy this poster HERE. It's brilliant, isn't it?

Hello regular and new readers.


To my regular readers:


All your comments are gone! I installed a new way of commenting only to realise (after it was done) that it wiped out all your comments. After two years (this month) of blogging all my comments are lost :(. While this is terribly sad for me, the new 'system' will make commenting easier for everyone - apparently you can even comment through your Facebook, which I am still admittedly figuring out, and although I'm fairly certain most of my regular readers had found their feet with my old commenting system I just wanted to make it a better experience for everyone.


Not only do you have several platform accounts you can comment from (Facebook, Blogger, Wordpress etc) where you couldn't comment from before but I can REPLY to comments properly! :D. I'm excited. It isn't horribly complicated but if you run into problems then please either email me (on the side) or contact me on Facebook directly (where there happens to be an interest chat about honeymoons, too! Did you go on one? Or were you like me and 'deprived' of one ;)? Well, add your voice to the topic - I want to hear suggestions and get ideas!).


To new readers; hello! Welcome to my little blog. 


I hope that the new way of commenting really makes things easier, it was frustrating me not being able to reply and I knew there was a risk of all my comments going bye bye but I'm looking forward to many more being added.


On top of this I have a small favour to ask you. I'm 220000 on the list at Top Baby Blogs and this makes me sad :(. I would really like to be in the top 10 and while I've tried to do this on my own it's just not possible - support and asking for help is the only thing to do in this scenario.

It makes me a little squeamish asking for help in this kind of thing...but I really want to make this blog my own little special something. At this point in time I'm not sure what that means for me, but I just want to share my life with anyone it can help and inspire. After all if it wasn't for blogs, I wouldn't be doing my own 366 Project so I believe blogs can give back and I'd really like to do that.


I've been feeling like changes need to happen over the past few days and I'm just getting ready to put those ideas onto paper and make this blog to be the best it can be but I really need your help in doing that! So, vote for me (daily if you can), pass the link round your friends, Tweet about it, blog about it - all help is appreciated and will be rewarded with invisible cupcakes and internet hugs from me.


P.S remember that commenting has changed - easier, quicker and more fluid than before! Woohoo.

I've Pulled.

The strange world of shoulder anatomy.

Today I woke up with the worst pain in my shoulder. Perhaps, ever. I had plans of getting my butt in gear, going to Stirling and just generally killing myself at the shopping centre (hate those places when they're packed.) Well, my plans were foiled when I woke up with a pulled muscle (seriously hoping that's all it is.)


So instead I spent the day eating an obscene amount of food - honestly. Probably the most food I've ate in one day in a long time, I just couldn't stop opening my mouth and shoving food in. I think I was working on the theory that food usually makes me feel better, it may even give me a rush of endorphin's and help with the natural pain relief. I also intentionally put pressure on my shoulder for a period of time by lying on my back and then sitting forward - to relieve pain. Don't ask me how that works, it just does.


I was really annoyed this morning. Annoyed because I kept thinking to myself, "as if I don't deal with enough pain and knocks to my health, this is just what I needed." I said a silent prayer to myself as I was crippled by the pain and then my shoulder eased a bit - I could barely breathe in and out before this point the pain was so overwhelming. I did feel bad about saying a prayer because I'd fallen asleep while in the middle of my prayer on the Friday night/morning and I had a bit of a cheek asking for help when I'd left God high and dry mid-sentence the night before. 


I was also in so much pain that I had to go back and repeat sentences I'd already said, just to make sure I'd said them. Because in my cloud of pain - oh but it was 'just' a pulled muscle, wasn't it, Bryan? - I was confused and a little bit sick. Thinking about that now I should have been worried, but I was so confused about waking up, not being able to move or take a proper breath that I didn't think of muscle tissue infections or something more sinister. Now I'm just convinced my body freaked out, went into a bit of a panic that I couldn't move, and I developed anxiety over it. I'm positive it's a pulled muscle because when I run the shower head over it? I'm virtually pain free. 


Anyway, I hope I don't get judged on my vain repetitions and God just see's my praying OCD for what it is. And I also hope that Bryan doesn't pull his neck out of place again - despite me walking out of the bedroom, in a big cream puff, and then spitting out to him; "I can't wait until you pull your neck again! Then I can say to you 'oh it's just a pulled muscle.' " 


On top of this I decided it would be smart to take a week off from blogging - not just because of the pulled muscle but because of a combination of many things; one being that I want to focus my energies and efforts into motherhood. I read an important blog post (I can't be bothered to hunt around for the link) about how children don't need fancy smancy crafts as seen on Pinterest, that they don't need 10 different sensory boxes nor does my house need to look like something out of Apartment Therapy in order to state the point that my child needs me. Not a clean house with immaculate floors, a swept kitchen, up to date washing, shiny sparkling dishes in the cupboards and the full works. I also don't need to be blogging when I could be spending time with Roman - although usually I do wait until he's in bed unless I get a few spare moments in the morning to quickly update things.


What my child needs is me. Especially at this age - this age I won't be able to get back again or repair any damage I might do intentionally. My wee boy is a great wee soul, he really is. He's so content about 95% of the time, sleeps through the night (this doesn't equate to the 'great wee soul' comment, it's just a nice bonus I enjoy), always receives praise on his cheerfulness and is generally just full of life. I'm blessed with Roman as my son because goodness knows I was a very, very determined little girl; full of cheeky comebacks, antics and driving people crazy all the time with my cheeky behaviour. 


But this little boy, this content little smiler, he needs me. This blog does not need me, I give it too much of my time and I need a break. I need to sort a few things out with our landlord, I need to sort out the walls in my home (covered in mould!), I need to sort out my eternally messy room and I need time to just belong to me and Roman in the afternoons. I need my son and he needs me - the more time we spend together, the more calm he becomes. His behaviour becomes seriously altered when he is ignored or, shock horror, is left to watch TV for an afternoon. He has started calling out for me in the mornings - when all I've ever known is a daddy's boy. 


So my goal is to work in the mornings meanwhile Bryan cares for Roman and then the afternoon belongs to me and my toddler - and Bryan can work in the afternoon while me and Ro stroll in nature and the shops ;). For that afternoon the TV will be off and if it's on I will talk to him about all the small details of the show and do sign language with him - which he loves. And for that whole afternoon I will not go anywhere near the internet or my laptop. It will be shut off as soon as all my work is complete and I will put an out-of-office reply on emails. 


Afternoons will be made of mess, fun, frolics, connecting with this beautiful country we have the privilege of living in and tapping into things that catch Roman's (and my) interest. 


We've been doing this for a good while now, but lately I feel myself slacking off so that's my plan. I need to be strict because lately my weeks have felt like they drag and as though nothing ever gets completed - mainly house work. 


So here's to the week and that we all enjoy what's ahead of us - and that we remember our children need us and don't care about how successful we are in a career or how wonderful our cupcakes are. They'll remember how we made them feel and the time we spent with them - not the time we spent on Pinterest fooling ourselves we'd make those kick-ass crafts with our kids. Although I do remember the kick-ass crafts me and my mum used to make together.


We were an unstoppable force.

Not Popular. Don't Care.

Me as a fat, fat child. I loved food then and I love it now. I will never be skinny.

I've never been 'popular.' I don't know what it is about me but I am not a people magnet in the least. I'm not like my dad who can be friends with anyone and start a conversation out of the air. I don't have the nice-ness that my mum was born and blessed with - that same magnetism I lack to attract people to me just because they want to be around a nice person. I think I've always seen myself as this person with a steely edge who puts up barriers and borders to stop people getting in. I don't know how that comes off at all. I see myself as a terrible friend even though I feel as though there is a lot I'd do for people - if only I had the energy to do it all.

In high school I didn't have a problem making and keeping friends. At church and in our youth programme I was quite good at making new friends - the only catch there seemed to be that at first people didn't really like me at all, they had to learn to get to know me. To not second guess what was going through my head. So many people have told me things like 'I thought you hated me when I first met.' I think I have this problem, too.

There is also the other problem I have. I meet these amazing people and suddenly I do something (that I usually have no clue about) and they stop speaking to me. I think it's usually because our politics and other values don't match - but honestly, if I don't care, why should you? Trying to keep this blog politics free has been hard for me. It's something I feel very, very strongly about. When I turned 18 I couldn't contain myself about being able to vote - it felt like a bird being let out of a cage. So when there is a conversation going about politics I feel my head shouting to me; "DON'T SAY IT! YOU'LL RUIN ANOTHER FRIENDSHIP!" but then my mouth does other things. I can't help myself and I don't feel I should help myself - other people don't, after all...

But it's that whole 'if everyone jumped off a bridge, would you do it?' scenario. Just because someone is being unkind, mean, hurtful, offensive etc doesn't mean I need to do the same back. And just because someone is hero-worshiping their politician of choice doesn't mean I need to respond to that nonsense or counter it with my own views (hero-worshiping aside because quite frankly there are about zero politicians who are 'hero's' in my eyes.)

So, when I came to blogging with the idea of just writing what was in my head and spilling out my heart (with some censorship, naturally) I honestly didn't think anyone else would read it - least of all people I knew. Mostly I was writing for myself; I needed a space to fill up with my thoughts and impressions. When my mum started reading my blog I think I started to tailor the posts for her a little, then my aunt joined in and so I began to tailor certain posts for her, too. Then other people, strangers, started to read the blog.

I remember the little flutters of excitement I would get when someone would respond to one of my posts - even if what they said was mean, I got excited that someone gave a crap to work up a mean reply ;). But focusing on the good: the majority of replies were positive, encouraging and not just someone looking for a chance to try and network and leave me high and dry otherwise. The comments left me feeling full of respect for people, gave me faith in humans and restored my belief in friendships.

Only a handful of people (who weren't family) have truly reached out to me in life. And it's because the rest of those people didn't see who I was, not truly. I can't speak for why people have helped me and reached out to me but the only answer I can give is that they are lovely, nice people who teach me so much with their kindness. That even if I did give them chronic bitch face, make them think I hated them and was quiet around them they still reached out to me. 

Look I'm never going to be popular, and you know what? I don't care. I thought I knew the future of this blog, but I don't. And: yep, you guessed it, I DON'T CARE! :).

 I'm not sure how I want to be remembered in life but I would like it to be with kindness and love. I don't care if I'm popular or 'liked', because that's not what counts, is it? Having friends is great but it means nothing if you did nothing. 

I wouldn't even care if everyone hated me, because if I knew I was doing my best and my Heavenly Father knows I'm doing my best then that's what counts to me. If I succeed as a mother and do it without complaining too much then that's what counts and matters to me. Having a happy home, a happy relationship and 'good' marriage is what counts and matters to me. Doing my best for those around me, to the best of my abilities - that's what counts, that's what matters.

Having loads of friends and people 'liking' me because I say things that make them happy, make me fit in and make me seem like a better person when I'm not acting on it is false. 

I can only be me, do my best and accept that I will never be her or her. I only have my life to write about and if that's not popular with people or it's not interesting to read, well, people don't have to read it ;). If you don't take the time to get to know someone, how do you know you don't like them?

So I'll keep on doing what I'm doing. I'll continue on despite the trials, the problems, the health issues and I'll keep going; not giving a damn that I'm not popular, but just doing my best.