Self-Care Is More Than Just A Bubble Bath

It took me a long time to admit it but after Erin was boring I had post natal depression. I didn’t want to admit it for so long but sometimes, things build up and up until you blow and that’s exactly what happened with me. Since then, I am so much more mindful about taking time for myself, looking after me and listening to my body and what it needs. I used to think that self-care was taking a nice soak in the tub or an extra 30 minutes in bed once in a while. It’s not though, it’s a

Why You Shouldn’t Stress About Potty Training

Back in March we had our first attempt at potty training. We got all kitted out with the Summer Infant My Size Potty and Erin loved it. We gave Erin time to get used to the new potty and a few weeks after it was delivered we got Erin some knickers and gave it a go. It didn’t turn out too well though and Erin just wasn’t ready at a place where she was ready for potty training. We gave up after a couple of days and decided to wait until the weather was nicer and Erin was slightly older

Some Days Are S***… And That’s Okay!

I think when you become a parent, or even when you get pregnant you don’t really think about much other than how wonderful it must be to have a child. No one ever really focuses on the bits that aren’t full of fairy dust, sparkles and rainbows until they actually happen. Although I had a really bad pregnancy I never found myself thinking about how hard things might get at one point or another. I certainly never thought that parenting really is s*** sometimes! Having suffered from PND, focusing on the bad days happened more often than I would really like

Sterilisation: Failed By The NHS

Last month I was supposed to have my sterilisation procedure. After months and months of waiting, and being on a waiting list, I had finally been given an appointment. The 19th September was quickly approaching and while I was nervous, I was pretty excited about having something done I’d fought hard to have and also waited so long for. About 10 days before my procedure date I received a letter telling me that my appointment at the hospital was cancelled with barely any explanation why. With the gynecology department at the hospital being no help whatsoever I was forced to

Bullshit, Lies And The NHS

Since the beginning of the year I have been posting on and off about the choice John and I made not to have any more children. After a really traumatic pregnancy and birth, we decided that the risk of me getting pregnant again is not worth going through what I did last time. Earlier in the year we made the decision for me to go ahead with a sterilisation and after months and months of waiting for an appointment, I finally got booked in last month. Last Wednesday I received a letter from the hospital cancelling that appointment. Upset is

Improving Motivation With A Lumie Desklamp

My office is in a really dark and dingy corner of the house. We have a big 24ft living room/ dining room with a bit extra added on to the side, making it an L shape. The L bit used to be a different room at some point but there is no light fitting. When the sun sets and it’s dark outside I am left working either looking at our garden or the curtains, neither of which give me extra light! I work from home full time now and I generally don’t sit down to work until 7pm after Erin has

PND and Me: Seeking Help

Yesterday was a hard day. After posting about my admittance of having post natal depression  (PND) quite quickly made a doctor’s appointment. I knew that if I didn’t I would probably chicken out and not want to go. Seeking help really is the first step to recovery. My doctor’s surgery changes its rules about when you can and can’t book in advance for so getting an appointment with a particular doctor is nearly impossible. My appointment ended up being with someone who doesn’t work there very often and I had never seen before. I actually think I liked it better that way.

Being Able To Admit That Something Is Wrong

When I think about it, I think I knew something was wrong months ago. It was only earlier on this evening, after a row about something stupid and me crying pretty hysterically, did I admit to my husband that I think I’ve got postnatal depression (PND). I don’t think it though. Really, I’ve known for months but haven’t wanted to really admit it to myself or anyone else. It’s not just one thing that has got me here either, it’s really quite a lot of different things. I sort of feel like a bit of a broken record here but I