Time Flies....

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 21 April 2015

Not that I've been having much fun!

Let's just say, the beginning of the year did not get off to the best start.  For numerous reasons.  Mainly to do with some marriage issues.  And that's all I'll say.

I am pleased to report though that we're putting things back together, slowly but surely.  We're working on our (my) issues and trying to fix it.

Things have been a bit hectic since my last post.  Christmas, coming back to work and 'those' issues have all taken their toll, and suddenly I find myself in April.

I want to do a bit of a post for Depression Awareness Week but I'll do that separately.  I wanted to let you all (my few readers) know that I was still here, still surviving.

I went on a very enlightening course in March to target my anger issues.  I came back feeling empowered and ready to put a different spin on things.  I'm mostly working my programme but as part of that, I need to get back into journalling and blogging as a way of making me present and aware.  Which is hard when you sit at a desk all day and wish the hours away and try everything in your power not to be present!

We're moving house again in a few weeks time.  The new place is smaller, but closer to Worcester Park.  There's not a lot of bulky storage (boy, am I going to miss the garage!) and has built in wardrobes so it's going to be interesting to see where we're going to put everything.  Already I'm having kittens about the kids toys, (Scarlett's room is certainly smaller), and also all the stuff from our study.  I'm thinking of just putting majority of my books into storage or something until we eventually buy a place and I can have some fitted bookcases made!  I feel however, that it's a more realistic move for us.  Ultimately we will end up in something this size (or possibly smaller) thanks to the fucked up market in our part of the UK, so I think it's a good time to have a clear out of all the stuff that's been hanging around for the last year.

Scarlett continues to do well at school.  Her reading and writing know no bounds (though, her writing still needs work, I'm still cursing the school for insisting on teaching them cursive, I kind of think it's holding her back!).  Her listening still needs work and her iPad use is quite frankly ridiculous, but she keeps us down with the kids through her YouTube viewing....!

Woody is finally walking, and has suddenly become a proper mini person in the last couple of weeks.  I like him a lot more than I did this time last year (honesty is the best policy, right?!)  He knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to throw a tantrum if he doesn't get it.  But it is getting a bit easier with his pointing at what he wants.  His current vocabulary includes, "Hiya", "Iggle Piggle", "Sgar sgar" (Scarlett) and "Des Des" (his childminder).  He's very good at nodding and shaking his head and seems to mostly get this right, though it does have hilarious uses, "Woody, are you a monkey?" *Nods head vigourously*.

We've joined a gym in an effort to shift the horrific amount of weight we've gained in recent months (years!).  It's going well so far though Andy has yet to make it up there.  We need to do some Saturday morning's together when the kids can go to the crèche/kids activities and Andy and I can get 2 hours in.  I've been trying to go as much as I can, I have aqua tonight and I'm very excited about it!

Work is....  Yeah, well, work is work.  I'm not massively enjoying it, I miss being at home (I mean, who wouldn't!).  I wish I could go part time but that's not going to happen any time soon (if ever!)  It's a bit depressing to think I might have another 40 years of working ahead of me.  I cannot be stuck doing admin forever, I seem to have lost any skills.  I feel sometimes like I could've done anything, but I threw it all away about 13 years ago and that was that.  I'd love to work for myself, but doing what I don't know.  It's very hard to feel that expanse of time ahead of you, with no real goal of how you want to fill it.

Any ideas?!

Hoping to Move On

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 16 December 2014

It's here. The eve I've been dreading.

I wanted to write this tonight because I don't want Woody's birthday to be darkened with my PTSD.  But I had to get it out there.  I hope people can understand.

All day I've been thinking about sitting on the antenatal ward, waiting.  Waiting for a bed to become free.  It never happened.  Eventually we asked to be discharged on the promise of being induced the next day.  The weather was horrible that day and I'm glad today has been a bright sunny day, so unlike this time last year.

I've also been thinking of someone who did have her baby a year ago today.  If she's reading, I'm sorry.  I had intentions of posting a card through her door for her son but chickened out, she's probably the last person she wants to hear from. But I think of her often, of the horrid things I said, of the way she made me feel, of my own issues which I projected onto her and the childish way I acted.  And I'm sorry for all that.

I'm scared about how I might feel tomorrow.  I so want to enjoy the day, it is, after all, Woody's first birthday.  Something momentous, and joyous.  But I'm worried I'm going to have these niggling thoughts in the back of my mind.

Really, it's the 18th I should be worried about.  Maybe that's the day I should have my funk, enjoy Woody's day tomorrow, and be prepared for the sinking feeling come the 18th.

Woody was born at 11:47 (a time etched into my mind as it was the time I frequently woke in a cold sweat for weeks after his birth).  So really, the shit didn't hit the fan until the early hours on the 18th.  I should fear that date more.

And what is it I'm scared of?  I think the flashbacks.  They've been getting more frequent the last few days.  The things that happened, the way I felt, the things I told myself.  Like an out of/in body experience.  As in, I can clearly, vividly remember lying there, under the blanket, being attacked with needles.  And then of lying in HDU, the darkness of that ward, the painful surges of morphine through my veins.  It is vivid.  Really, fucking, vivid.  It's real.  It's become a really sad part of my life.

There are lots, LOTS of people who think I need to let go but I don't know how.  I am seeking help for that though.  I meet with a therapist on Friday to see if she's the right one to help me overcome not just this, but all the other things that have troubled me for the last 15 years of my life.  If she's not the right one, I will carry on searching as I have to fix myself.

On a brighter note, I'm working on some lovely things to share the rest of this week, time will tell whether I find the time to bring them to fruition.

I'm Still Here.... Just

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 28 April 2014

Hello, to my very few readers (and probably dwindling by the second with all my bad mood tweets and flare ups lately!)

I just wanted to say I am still here, but my PTSD and depression are taking me over at the minute and therefore I'm basically a piece of shit to everyone I encounter. Sorry about that, I don't mean it, I seem to have a horrible gremlin living inside me at the minute and I don't know how to get rid of it (if only it were a tapeworm....!)

I'm planning on following a couple of May writing/Instagramming prompts to hopefully make things a little more interesting around here.

In order to save my sanity I'm trying to keep away from Twitter at the minute but I will be spamming the shit out of it with my May posts.

I know I'm at the bottom again and that I'll come back up but it takes a little while and I have to concentrate hard (which is hard for someone who has a slight case of ADHD at times!)

Anyway, hopefully you'll join me for the hopefully Merry Month Of May.

Dear Scarlett, Happy 6th Birthday!

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 25 March 2014

Dear Scarlett,

Happy 6th Birthday!! My word, how time has flown. I cannot believe that six years ago I was getting ready to meet you, and at 12:34pm on 25th March 2008, you came feet first out of my tummy and into our lives. We have the photos. They're kinda gross!

You changed our lives in ways you cannot imagine. And both Daddy and I are incredibly proud of you. We tell each other most days how lucky we are to have such a bright, clever, helpful, funny little girl. Everyone loves being your friend. You're such a dude.

As I said last time, I know it hasn't been easy for you since Woody came along, he takes up a lot of our time now and he cries a LOT which can be very tedious. But he loves you so much, we can tell, you always get the biggest smiles and giggles from him. We're very proud of the way you've taken to being a big sister, we really cannot wait to see you grow up together.

You are going to get spoilt rotten today you little monkey, I can't wait to see you open your presents!! We've gone a little crazy this year as you've put up with quite a lot this year so far. Hope we're not setting a precedent!

I'm looking forward to coming to your school this morning to see the garden that you and Daddy made at the weekend and seeing the gardens of your classmates. I hope it hasn't all wilted overnight!

We'll do something special at the weekend, just the three of us, just like old times. Maybe we can go to the cinema and see the new Muppet film? It'll be totally your choice what we get up to.

Hope you have a lovely day at school,

Love,
Mum xx

Dear Woody, Sorry For the Delay

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 12 March 2014

I know a lot of you have been waiting for a Dear Woody post.

If truth be told I haven't really known where to start.  The problem is, if we were to start at the very beginning (which is a very good place to start), it all just feels too raw and scary still.

I know it can be really hard for some to understand what I went through.  It's not even about the fact that my uterus ruptured.  It's not even the fact that I thought I would die (well, it might be a little bit about that).  I feel absolute, all consuming sorrow when I think about Woody's actual 'birth'.  I often can't bring myself to say he was born, or even that I gave birth.  He was delivered. I refer to his birth as 'The Event'.  He was wrenched from me.

Again, I know that can be hard to understand, the idea of not having given birth.  "What does it matter?" you might ask.  Those who knew me whilst I was pregnant will know that I was VERY positive that I was going to have an amazing birth experience.  I was a total bloody hippy about it. Every time I visualised his birth, I imagined that glorious moment of all consuming love as he was placed on my chest, for skin to skin, and amazing, immediate bonding and the rushes of hormones we can only dream of.

But that didn't happen. And instead I am haunted, daily, by the image of his purple, lifeless body being plonked onto my tummy, the cord being cut and him being whisked over to the resuscitaire.  Where they began calling out numbers and times and saying things that scared the shit out of me, and Andy.

And then it goes hazy, because then I went into shock and my body started shutting down and I had to literally fight for my life.  And I couldn't concentrate on Woody.  There was nothing I could do for him at that point.  I just had to trust that the Doctors and midwives looking after him would make him better again.  Whilst I prayed they could do the same for me.  And then, I didn't see him until he was 36 hours old.  Bye bye hormones and glorious moment of birth and bonding.

I know, I really, REALLY know, people are just trying to gee me along and cheer me up and get me back on my feet when they tell me that I should be happy we survived, and to try to move on. I've suffered from depression before.  This isn't depression.  It feels deeper than that.  The hole I'm in feels darker, and deeper and more lonely some days.  Only some days, but on those days, there's not a lot anyone can say, just let me know that you're thinking of me.

I've discovered that birth trauma can be quite a lonely place.  People wanted to hear my story to begin with.  People were concerned, and shocked, and glad that I was alive and so was Woody.  That we were both doing okay.  I felt I was on a pedestal.  I've been called a hero.  I survived that.  I fought it.

But there comes a point where I've told everyone I know.  And I daren't talk any more.  Everyone has heard it.  I worry people are starting to grow bored of hearing me talk about it.  Even the counsellor at the hospital seemed uninterested this week (although a screaming Woody may have had something to do with it, it was a bit of a waste of time this week).

I don't know what I'm getting at with this post.  It's my usual rambly nonsense, and I hope I haven't offended any of you.  I just needed to let everyone know that I have days where I feel all consumed by what happened.  It's okay, I know that's hard to take.  It's hard to see someone you know and care about in pain, although mental pain is really hard to empathise with I know.  It's okay.  You don't need to say anything.  I know things like this make people feel uncomfortable, I get that.  I just need everyone to know I'm still hurting.  I will never get over it. Not fully. It may heal, but I will always carry with me the sense of loss I feel over the situation.

All that's left to say is to my darling boy, I am so glad we survived it baby, me and you kiddo. You're my hero.

Dear Scarlett - 5 years,11 months

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 25 February 2014

Dear Scarlett,

My darling girl. I cannot believe how grown up you are. Sometimes a little TOO grown up. Monday evening for example, you came in and immediately kicked off as I asked you to put your Rainbows uniform on. You're getting a little too good at the hand on hip, gesticulating with your chin! You do make us laugh, you are such a character, it's just a joy to be around you.

At the minute you're well aware that it's 28 days to your birthday and you keep asking me when your party is. Let me explain, mummy is not the go-to for maths. This question keeps requiring me to subtract 3 from the number I've already had to calculate. This hurts mummy's brain. Ask me about English or spelling, ask daddy about maths and science.

I watched you on Sunday and it made my heart swell. You know what you were doing? Putting on your socks. And it reminded me how amazing you are and that you can do so many things for yourself, and I think having Woody, who cannot do ANYTHING for himself yet, has reminded how awesome you are for being able to do so much. You are your own individual being.

This first dawned on me when you were about 19 months old. You had been walking a very short time but you soon became master of it. You came toddling in to the bedroom (at that time, we still shared the house with nanny, and we had a sofa and the big telly in the bedroom!) and you toddled passed the end of the sofa, this little blonde head, bobbing along independently. So independently. You've always been keen to assert your independence. And it was at that point that it really struck me, you were a proper little mini person.

Now, don't get me wrong, you'd been pretty damn awesome up to that point, but suddenly, it struck me that you were your own person. And that struck me again on Sunday.

You've had to be quite self sufficient the last few weeks, what with your little brother coming along, in slightly crazy circumstances. We will discuss these circumstances when you're a lot older! I admire you for mostly just taking it all in your stride. You've been ever so good at being patient, and I do not blame you for getting annoyed a few times, you have every right to.

My sweetpea, you've been our baby for more than 5 years, had our undivided attention. But this screaming Mr Grumpy Woody has come into the world and turned it all sideways. Not upside down. Just sideways. And you're taking it so well. He loves looking at you, you really are the most interesting thing in his world and daddy and I are SO excited to see you grow up together. Our precious sweetpeas. Two peas in a pod.

You're back at school today after half term break. You came home in tears from Rainbows as you're having trouble with another little boy at school. And it makes me so cross, we've been having trouble with this little boy for ages and you just do not deserve it.  You're such a kind, honest, funny little girl and you don't deserve some little sod hitting and kicking you.  I hope you can rise above it (although, you're too much like me and you're more likely to lash out, try and restrain yourself petal!)

You're doing ever so well at school, your spelling and writing is just brilliant (just like mummy!) but you need to get a bit better at reading.  That's our fault too - it's always such a rush after school, but it's no excuse!

Keep being your creative self. I know I complain about all the junk modelling everywhere when you've emptied the entire recycling bin to build a model of something, but it shows how incredibly imaginative and creative you are. For example, your Lenor hat from last week. You nut! So funny! And your drawings are always amazing, I love it when you draw us something. You're better than daddy and I at that!

I was never very good at finishing letters and it seems I'm still no better at it.  All I want to say is we love you and keep being you, because you're just fabulous.

All my Love,

Mummy x

Scarlett's Big Haircut

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 22 February 2014

Yesterday, Scarlett did something pretty momentous.  She had her hair cut off.  All of it (well, yknow, nearly all of it).

This is momentous for two reasons; Firstly, Scarlett has had her hair cut probably a total of 4 times in her nearly 6 years of life and secondly, she agreed to donate her hair to the Little Princess Trust so that her hair can be made into a wig for little girls who have lost theirs during cancer treatment. 

Andy had always been quite protective of Scarlett's hair, it took her a good 18 months to actually get any hair following a rather severe case of cradle cap and as it's gotten longer, it's also gotten darker, so the very tips of her hair really are the last of her baby blonde.  But, we'd all had enough of trying to brush out the tangles and I was fed up of the kids at school pulling her plaits out and it coming home looking like a bird's nest.  And it wasn't really much fun for Scarlett any more.

She woke up yesterday SO excited to be getting it cut and kept displaying where on her shoulders she wanted her new hair to come to.  In the end, it's gone a lot shorter than we'd anticipated but it really suits her and she is over the moon!

My mum bought her a Palace Pet from Build a Bear workshop, something that she can Treasure (literally, that's the name of the cat) forever and remember the day she had her hair cut off to donate to another little girl.

I am so immensely proud of her, she took it all in her stride, I think it's only as an adult perhaps that it hits you what it's going to mean to another little girl to have new hair.

I want to say a big thank you to Claire and her team at Blush & Co in Locksbottom for cutting Scarlett's hair and giving her a wonderful new style, she was spoilt rotten yesterday!

Well done Scarlett, my beautiful, grown up girl.