Swimming on a Sunday is normally John and Erin’s thing. John often works 6 days a week with Sunday being his only day off and I like to make sure that he and Erin get some real quality time together on their own. Most Sundays they go off swimming in the morning as our local pool lowers part of it so toddlers can stand up in the water and have a play. However, John worked a very rare Sunday last weekend so I took Erin swimming instead. So, before the pool has an ‘open to
Category: Rant
I am who I am
Sometimes I feel like people want me to apologise for being who I am. Sometimes I feel like people would rather me keep my mouth shut rather than say what I think. Sometimes, I feel like people don’t like me because of who I am. I have gotten to a point in life where I just do not care what other people think. I honestly think that this is something that has come more and more with age. I know I was never like I am now as a teenager or even in my early ’20s.
C-section recovery hell!
Unfortunately, this is not a very pleasant subject to write about at all. You may remember back to when I wrote about my C-Section Recovery After 6 Months. Well, here we have the 11 month update! If you didn’t read the previous post, here’s a quick round up of what happened. An emergency c-section turned into a raging infection which I now know was some internal bleeding, sepsis and e-coli. That then turned into a second surgery a week later and a rough road to recovery. While I was in hospital, and for a long while after,
Purple is not a flavour!
I don’t even know why this got me so riled up, or what even made John and I talk about it the other day. However, it annoys the crap out of me when people can’t use simple words like the correct flavour for something. In case you hadn’t realised, purple is NOT a flavour. Purple is a colour. The flavour of a Fruit Shoot with a purple bottle is not purple flavoured, it’s blackcurrant (and maybe apple, I don’t know). This annoyance is something that comes from working in a soft play center for a
Preschool proms
It’s the end of July and that means it is the end of term for schools, nursery and play groups etc. That also means that my Facebook feed has been bombarded with pictures of prom outfits. I was not expecting there to be photos of preschool proms! When I finished secondary school (no, not high school as it’s called now) proms were not a thing. We didn’t get to do anything special for leaving school. Well, going out and getting drunk wasn’t an official leaving celebration but that’s what I did at 16. I have
Arseholes everywhere
Yesterday I decided to go into the city (Norwich) with Erin because we needed a few bits and pieces. Now, if you didn’t know this already, I don’t drive so a trip to Norwich involves a 30ish minute train journey and then a 10 minute walk to the city centre which is hard enough all by itself. Anyway, I was looking forward to a day out in the sun with my girl but it really was not the fun day I had in mind. Erin has a bit of a thing about being hungry. If
To the lady on the bus who can’t mind her own business
Dear lady on the bus, I know you think you were being helpful telling me that my screaming daughter is hungry. I gritted my teeth and explained that no, she’s actually just had a bottle. I know you think you were being helpful telling me that my screaming daughter obviously had stomach ache then. She’s got acid reflux and yes, it hurts her but no, that’s not what’s wrong. You certainly can’t have thought you were being helpful when you muttered to your husband sitting next to you ‘She’s going to be ill screaming that
What a sh*t week!
This is so far from something I would normally post. I nearly didn’t write this post at all but then I thought about what I wanted my blog to be. I want it to be an extension of me, my life and what I’m feeling. Generally my posts are happy, excited and enthusiastic. That isn’t what this post is. The first thing putting me in this awful mood is that Erin has had her first cold. She did not deal well with it at all and neither did I. The poor little thing couldn’t quite