We aren’t very good at this blogging thing….

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So it’s becoming glaringly obvious that we aren’t all that cut out for blogging. But today, after a few months away from here I need a space. Somewhere I can voice a concern, somewhere I can let it all out and not need anybody to see it. I don’t need replies, advice or sympathy. I just need to let it all out.

big one is hurting, he is hurting badly and I have no idea how to help it stop.

he has recently started getting very upset that man shape is working and he doesn’t see him. Now this is nothing new, he has been doing this job since big one was tiny. But the past few weeks he has cried at bedtime because ma shape hasn’t said goodnight. Cried because it’s a ppi claim call not man shape on the phone. He is all of a sudden very upset that he is missing out on his beloved daddy.

It came to a head yesterday when he had an awful day at nursery. He was throwing, shouting, pulling hair and spitting because he told me on the way home he is so angry and so cross daddy is at work.

I was lucky that yesterday I could call man shape home to spend time today with big one. But that isn’t going to be possible all the time.

I just have no idea how to help him. How to get him to understand that hurting others doesn’t make things right.

I’ve spent my day furiously googling ideas on how to help him but everything is basically aimed at parents who won’t be returning, or seperated families. Everything I’ve read on anger doesn’t reflect what he is doing. I feel so lost.

I want to take that hurt away, I want him to understand that daddy loves him more than anything and always comes home and kisses him when he’s asleep. I want to have my baby back. I want my loving little boy who was always happy and kind. But I just don’t know how to get him back.

I sometimes wonder what I did wrong. Was I wrong to work? Should I have dedicated my life to parenting? Would he miss daddy if mummy was there all the time? If I didn’t have small one would he have been happier as the no wouldn’t have to spread my time. I know, I know it’s none of these things but here in the dark they come out.

I wish there was a quick fix. I wish there was something I could say or do just to make everything right. I’m scared. I’m scared that we will get to that point that nursery won’t take him any longer because the way he behaves. I hate the sympathetic smiles from other parents when I’m struggling with my beautiful baby boy and they just breeze past with their children. I just wish we were them. I want this nightmare to end. I need my baby back so much that it hurts.

Exteme dieting….. One day this girl might be thin

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Well well well. You are a fatty. Fatty patty! But at least you don’t eat flapjacks. I guess there’s that for consolation.

Today is fat girl fuck off day one. Yes, truly.

So as I’ve known got a long time I am fat, and instead of doing anything I’ve ignored this fact and am now in the desperate race to be at least a little bit smaller.

In exactly 11 days I’m going to a wedding, not that I’m looking forward to it, but we are going.

There will be lots of people there, people I don’t know, but I still can’t be fat infront of them!

I need to find something to wear and have seen a really cute red play suit. It’s cute but not something fatty patty could ever wear. I considered ordering two different sizes but then saw how awful it actually looked from behind on the poor model online and she’s well thin!

Back to the drawing board I guess.

Before I can really decide on a dress I need to decide how thin I can potentially be in 11 days. That’s where I’m totally going biggest looser on yo ass!

My name is say no, and I’m an extreme dieter.

I’ve been a slave to diets for years, years I tell you. But that’s nothing shocking in these days where every fucker and his wife are too. It’s like a lifestyle I have chosen to accept. Low fat, low sugar, low joy!

Well today is different. Today I’ve taken things further. I’ve got me some of bad ass appetite suppressant, fat burning magic pills. 

When I say I got them, what I actually mean is man shape once bought them and were never used and who would look a gift horse in the mouth hey? 

So my magic pills, it’s okay you get them from boots, they ain’t that dodgy!, coupled with slim fast and zumba may mean I am a little smaller in 11 days. 

I may actually find something decent to fit my fat body. 

I may even enjoy myself, but I wouldn’t put money on that. 

 

 

Or the others 😕

 

 

 

 

One of life’s realisations

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I am fat. There is no denying it, I knew but didn’t want to face up to it but now I’ve reached an all time low. My engagement ring is too tight. I struggle to take it off, it leaves a dent. I’m fat, see!

I am officially the fattest I’ve ever been and getting bigger. I need to stop. No more shit. I say this every week but my resolve is weak. I’ve spent lots of money on fitness equipment that is just languishing in the corners of my house.

When smallest was born I was back to my pre children size, I’ve eaten myself into my worst nightmare. I’ve eaten myself into my own mother.

Mum is fat, she always has been. She has done every diet ever. Yes she has lost weight, but it’s eaten back on very quickly. I’ve always had a hidden repulsion to her body. The sheer size, the way her stomach falls over her underwear. And now this is me. I’m the product of my own hatred.

My problem? I will tell the truth is embarrassment. I’ve been raised to believe excercise is horrible, that only freaks would actually want to do it. Truth be told, I enjoy it but the years of being told it’s another thing that can be used to call me a freak makes it something to avoid.

I hate the clumsy feeling that comes with this size, the fact I’ve only dresses or leggins that fit, and fuck me I’m fed up of elastic waistbands.

So today my lovely friends is the last day. I cannot be like this anymore, as I creep towards 14 stone on my 5″2 frame I need this horrible reality check. Tomorrow is a new day, not just another okay I’m going to do this. It’s a real I CAN DO THIS!!

So goodbye fatty, hope to never see your ugly arse again.

Oh and if I fail I will just have to have another baby, this is when I am queen of weight loss would you believe!!

Waiting……just waiting

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I don’t like waiting rooms. They are always stuffy and uncomfortable. Although this morning I find myself the pleasure of sitting in one. It’s the car owners annual dread feast, it’s MOT day.
I hold out good faith it will pass, but I did that last year and the bastard failed on emissions.

So back to the waiting room. It’s busy today, there are two other women here. One older woman {read-mums age} and another who is the definition of mutton and refers to her car as the beem, short for Beemer. Twat.

Older woman is very good with her waiting room etiquette. She came in nodded a suburban nod hello and has proceded to sit nice and quietly playing with her phone.

Mutton does not know the rules. She has been on the phone, moaning about the cost mbe charge for tyres. £350 each before VAT if you are interested. oh you’re not? Shame. I’ve got some more tidbits about her week. Dial a dog are coming tomorrow, and she is having her eyebrows done at home, not sure what to them. I just hope she’s not indulging in HD brows, not at her age or with her colouring. It’s her daughters play on thirsday and then Friday they are going away. This level of knowledge should not be gathers from a waiting room. She has spent the rest of her time sashaying her blonde locks from side to side while tapping away on her phone with the noise on. She doesn’t two fast so it’s like a slow deathly heartbeat of the iphone touch tone.

I’m watchin, I’m watching every move they make on my car. It’s currently up high and for some god only knows what reason was shook. The fear seeing my car wobble like a fat person on a bouncy castle was a bit extreme. I had visions of it crashing to the ground and them telling me that’s what it failed on, wobble ability.

I wish I had washed it now. I normally always present a beautiful shiny clean car for testing as how could you fail something so clean and tidy? But then a bird shat on it from a great height on the way here.

Some may consider that lucky, I don’t. There’s no screenwash in it.

Let’s talk screenwash. Please!!!! Oh how I love thee screenwash! How I feel my life pails in significance without your presence. I wash my windscreen at least once every journey. I like a clean and clear screen and to tell the truth quite like the smell.

I ram out a few weeks back and I keep meaning to add it but forget. Or don’t have time. Or have been out and I’m scared of burning myself on a hot engine. Screen wash is one of the only things I know how to maintain.

Hopefully the lack thereof will not fail me.

The oiliy fumes are getting to my head leaving me to ramble. I will return with superior knowledge and a valid MOT.

God speed.

 

*it passed!**

Sitting up late

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It’s late. Very late for me! Big one is on his way home and I’m very excited!!

He went on Friday and it’s now Saturday night. I dropped him off at nursery, gave him a huge kiss and cuddle before leaving for his first time away from me. Him and man shape have been to a family wedding while me and small one stay home. It’s been a long day but I wasn’t expecting his return until tomorrow afternoon. For some reason though plans have changed and he will be home in the middle of the night!

I can’t wait to see my baby again but fuck me I want to sleep!

Shouting but nobody can hear me

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Today has been the shittest of shitty shit shit days. If I could erase this day from my life then I would.

today big one has reached crisis point at nursery with his behaviour. I was called to pick him up as it’s that bad. So after many tears all day, lots of talking he is lovingly kissed and cuddled and in bed with the promise tomorrow will be better. 

Then another rock of shit got thrown into the fan. Man shape is home from work and I tell him we need to talk. I tell him about today and he starts screaming and shouting at me why does nobody know what’s making him bite? They knew the other week why the child who bit him did it, why never when big one does it? I try, exasperatedly to explain that it’s unprovoked, he just goes up and bites. But oh no this isn’t true. He doesn’t do it at home so it must not be true. 

I I feel like I’m smashing my head against the wall. This is why I can’t speak to man shape. He won’t accept any part of his responsibility, he won’t listen to reason. Essentially it comes down to the same thing. It’s my fault. It always is and always will be. 

I have now told him to go fuck himself and retired to my bed to cry myself to sleep, yet again. But I need to go downstairs so I’m really not in the mood. 

Good night you bastard of a day 

A deeper hurt

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I can’t sleep. It’s been like this for days. The irrational upset that is keeping me awake, it won’t subside. Tonight is the worst, I’ve cried. I cried deep heavy tears of a heartbreak that is yet to come. I don’t want the day to come, if I could have one wish it would be to freeze time.

it’s that time if year when children are preparing to leave nursery to partake in their new journey of school. This is not a journey we are taking just yet, we will be partaking next summer. So why so sad? I can’t do it. I just can’t. My beautiful baby is growing to fast. 

I remember the day we looked around nursery, it was January 2012, big one had just started walking and I needed to think about my imminent return to work. The heavens were shining on us as there was no waiting list. They are based 2 minute drive from my work, and utterly fantastic. 

That first year of big ones life was not a happy time for me, I clung to my baby heartbroken from the missed times together and here we were looking for somebody who could love and care for him while I went into the world to help provide a home for him. How I was in turmoil over leaving him, but that day in January when I juggled him and my driving licence out of my purse to show who I was something lifted. 

There is something about nursery, I don’t know what, but it’s there. A feeling I had, a feeling of trust, care and love. It radiates from the building, I knew this was the place for my most precious being. 

So on 27th February 2012, at 12 months 18 days old my beautiful baby started his journey at nursery. He settled in so well, he was happy. We were all happy, we have never had any reason not to be happy. I felt safe and loved. It has become to feel like family, we aren’t just paying for him to be looked after. These are our friends now. 

And now now as I see his friends prepare to leave, one had their last day today, I feel that deepness of sorrow grinding away in my heart. I’m scared. 

I’m scared that he won’t love school like he loves nirsery

i’m scared he will miss his friends who will likely go to other schools. 

I’m scared he won’t make friends and feel lonely 

I’m scared of bullying

im scared that saying goodbye to the family of nursery will break his beautiful heart.

I dread that last day, I feel the tears every time I think about him saying goodbye. I just can’t let my baby grow. I know he will most likely be happy and love school. He will have lots if friends, but the fear creeps up. 

I need him. I love him with such an intensity that him growing is a giant fear. I’m scared of his childhood becoming like mine. I don’t want him to feel he cannot answer questions at school as he doesn’t want to look like he’s showing off because he knows. I don’t want people to say things that will hurt him, destroy his self esteem. 

But most importantly I don’t want to loose him. My favourite time of day is the morning when he gets up and comes straight to me for our morning cuddles. I dread that day when he no longer says ‘mummy my favourite thing is nuggles’ and I fear that school will be that first step towards my beautiful baby moving away from me. 

Please time. Stand still. 

I pray for a day when I look back and think I was being a fool, but I fear that day. I fear what we will go through to get there.

so in September when you see that crazy lady, crying and clinging onto the school hate not ready to leave her beautiful child tell her it’s all going to be fine. Hold her, let the tears fall down, but tell her she will always have her baby because I hope to god somebody will hold my hand to ease that pain