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


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.


Childcare for disabled children – reasonable adjustments and the right to ordinary lives



Childcare is a part of ordinary family lives. In the modern economy, parents need and are expected to work to support their families – or in the language of Every Child Matters and section 10 of the Children Act 2004, to make sure their children ‘achieve economic well-being’. There is also copious evidence of the benefits of high quality childcare to children’s social development and learning.

So childcare matters – and as the Equality and Human Rights Commission say (see link above) access to childcare is an issue of equality – both disability equality and gender equality given the uneven distribution of caring responsibilities between women and men. It is therefore profoundly depressing if entirely unsurprising that the recent Parliamentary Inquiry into childcare for disabled childrenfound that so many families with disabled children were simply unable to access any childcare – never mind high quality childcare that would meet…

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happy birthday


This summarised how I’m feeling as I approach 6 months tomorrow

Life as a Widower

How do hold onto something that’s gone?

How do make something that’s finished go on?

How do you get through the day pretending you’re fine?

How can you light candles that will no longer shine?

How do you smile about something that makes you feel sad?

How do you try to feel happy when you still feel so bad?

How do you begin to put aside all of your fears?

How do you get through the day without tears?

How do you think they’d recognise you now you’ve change so much?

How do you embrace someone you can no longer touch?

How do you put on face and say you’re okay?

How can you ever take this pain away?

How can we be us if you can’t be here?

How can I keep you close when you can’t be near?

How can I show you if you cannot see?


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


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 😕





What if…


We probably won’t have this opportunity again.

In Jan ’15 it will have been three years since we moved to the Far East. That’s a long time, however, we haven’t taken advantage of living here at all.

I rarely venture out of doors even though the weather is quite frankly magnificent, day in day out. Sure, there are bursts of rain during the monsoon season (Oct-April) which sounds long, but it rains perhaps twice a week, and within an hour of raining, the sun is so deliciously hot and intense that it’s all dry again.

Of course, it’s intensity and deliciousness is preferred from the safety of my air conditioned apartment (though I won’t deny it, I’m scolded severely for attempting to turn the children into hermits too).

I live in the Far East, the opportunity to travel is limitless, exotic locations people can only dream of and cry off due to distance, are a mere few hours away, yet, we haven’t travelled.

Perhaps it’s because we moved at a time when our little family is more intent on expanding….

I can’t help but think if we came here a few years earlier, when it was just the two of us….hmmm…. though I can barely remember a time before my children and even less of my time before I met Mr Foof, does that make me pathetic? Does it? If it does, I have no shame in saying I’m happy to be a pathetic mess.

For I am happy, it may not seem it, because I’m a certified grumpy grumpuss, but I *am* happy, so why would I yearn for a time when I was less so.

Anyway, I digress, where was I… Ah yes, travelling.. Perhaps if we moved here after we had had our children, or completed(!) our family, then I wouldn’t worry about travelling when pregnant or being fat and not having the get-up-and-go attitude, except to be honest, I’ll always blame everything but myself.

I could probably travel now. Yes, baby Foof is only a year old and will need chasing, watching and general seething at, but I could still do it, and therein lies the problem. I’m too big and lazy to run after her, so I blame time and circumstance instead.

If we had moved here when it was just the two of us: read, I was slimmer back then, able to actually shift myself from A to M…

If we had moved here after I was done having children: read, I’d probably have attempted to, and so shifted some of my weight, possibly being able to move from A to E…

If I wasn’t still in the process of expanding my family, yet trying to shrink my fat.

To be honest, I can always pepper my life with ‘ifs’ yet fundamentally it’s me who needs to change, not time, not circumstances…. Me.

When it come to the fight between being lazy and being industrious, I will always opt for being lazy.

So I convince myself that it’s the ‘what ifs’ that prevent me from living life, when really it’s just me.

I despise lying and cheating, but I can always, without fail, lie and cheat myself out of anything. It’s a good thing I only subject myself to this villainy, or is that another lie I tell myself.

Either way, I often make decision that ‘Enough is enough! I will fix this! I will do that!’

Except I don’t…

I don’t *fix* that…

I certainly don’t *do* anything…

However I keep the faith that one day I will.

Therefore ‘travelling’ or ‘adventure’ rather.. Well that will have to wait, but holidays… Now, those I might just be able to squeeze in.

What doesn’t need to wait, are the small changes, the baby steps towards making our small apartment a home. Even if it is after almost three years, it’s good enough for me (as an added bonus, it also meant I managed to clear out some junk and find some much needed space in my cupboards).

So for today, I’m happy that the cupboard under the sink looks fantastic and that I have more frames to put up.

Baby steps that will hopefully lead to shifting this post-baby weight and maybe some adventure after all.

An unexpected thank you


Im not sure I should be thanking you at all. After all, your decision to stop returning my messages without explanation hurt me out of all proportion to the length or intensity of our relationship. We chatted for a month and only went on one date so why would I even care if you just stopped. I suspect many of the tears are actually for other things in my life I was pretending to be fine with.
But I am still grateful. The time we spent chatting was a huge amount of fun at a time when I really needed to be reminded that I can have/be that much fun. Talking to you I discovered things about myself I genuinely hadn’t known, hopefully these things will be useful in future (longer!) relationships.
And finally you made my first ever date fun rather than properly scary. Knowing I was terrified you messaged me stream of consciousness nonsense right up to the moment we met, how could I have found the time to be nervous. We had lovely food, no awkward silences and even a kiss.
Im very sorry we wont make it to a second date. I wish I understood why, I guess I never will.
My friends assure me you are a tosser and not worth my time, I almost wish I could agree. But I am confident that in a week or two I will be fine again, happy to take forward the good bits without focusing on the abrupt and unexplained ending. But for the above reasons I hope I will be able to remember you fondly.
Thank you.



Thought this was applicable to all mums not just those of us who are single!

Gingerbread's campaign blog

A poem on being a single parent by Gingerbread supporter and single mum, Tina Davenport.

Tonight I took a mirror, for the first time I could see,
All the people that I am, reflected back at me.
This woman, just a face, but in the eyes they tell a tale,
Of love that’s lost and things that I must be and never fail.

The mother and the father and the healer of young hearts,
Teaching them to fly again when lives were torn apart,
Creator of the safest place and catch them when they fall,
Working late into the night and juggling it all.

By day, the leader of a team, responsible by far.
Conference calls and meetings, rushed commuting in my car,
Fixing what is broken and supporting my own team,
Being full of energy, maintaining self-esteem.

Taxi driver, shopper, hamster-tamer, chef and nurse,
Expert plaster putter-on-er, world’s most…

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