Trolling. Why, how and WTF.Β 

As an avid follower of Lily Allen, I’ve long been aware of people trolling. I said to Pete the other day that she’s basically me if I were famous cos I wouldn’t give a shit either and then would get into all sorts of arguments defending myself to morons. 

I must say though, when I used to use a wedding forum back in the day, trolling was not as vicious as it is now. Usually a bored someone who wanted to be part of something or fancied stirring up a bit of shit and then disappearing. I always remember the phrase “don’t feed the troll” and my little online posse used to type “trip trap” to let it known that we suspected a troll. We were cool. I hope some of them read this, hi ladies!! 

I follow quite a lot of people on YouTube (the YouTube πŸ˜‚) and with some of them, I have watched so many videos that I feel fully invested into their lives and I feel genuinely angered by people trolling them and saying such hideous things!! One was accused of being racist for merely saying she didn’t like Notting Hill Carnival. I mean seriously. And then her husband took the piss and it continued and escalated. But his response was comedy gold. And for me, it highlighted the ridiculousness of the trolls! That’s The Michalaks, if you aren’t familiar then check them out. I love them. 

Trolls are ridiculous. And probably individually are harmless such as our wedding forum ones. But it’s the other people who jump on the bandwagon and turn it more sinister and sick. The fucking keyboard warriors. See Lily Allen’s URL Badman for the perfect description. 

What I don’t get with the whole thing is that you have a choice to watch these people’s videos, follow their Twitter and Instagram etc. It is a choice. Why would anyone choose to follow someone they hate that much? That’s what is totally alien to me. If I hate someone, seeing their posts indirectly boils my piss so I wouldn’t choose to follow them to irritate myself on a daily basis!! 

I think with YouTube and reality tv culture and celebrity itself is that people forget that behind everything else, these people are real people. With real feelings and lives. No matter whether it’s a Mummy blogger with 100 followers or a Kardashian, no one deserves the shit these people dish out. 

I see the argument of “well they put themselves out there, they deserve it”. Nope. Nope. That’s getting to the same thread of idea that rape victims insight the hideous crime they’ve been subjected to. It’s a bullshit reason and no excuse. We live in a world of oversharing and visibility on all levels, it’s amazing in so many ways. I think perhaps people should remember what they were taught at 3 years old-if you can’t say anything nice then don’t say anything at all. 

Rant over. I’m just so over bullshit nastiness for no reason. 

Breastfeeding. Again.Β 

So after 14 months, I feel able to discuss breastfeeding in a rational manner without bursting into tears. I think. I appreciate that I have a very beautiful, healthy and happy little boy but I do still feel guilty and to be honest like a bit of a failure that I was unable to breastfeed Frankie for more than a couple of weeks. Even though the decision was taken away from me by my body letting me down. I can’t help feel like that and no amount of being told otherwise does any good. 

I wanted to write this post as I see more and more celebs and women in general posting their #normalisebreastfeeding pictures which of course is great and lovely but I can’t help but always find it a bit smug. That may just be me but I still think that those Momma’s who have chosen not to breastfeed or have been unable to are more open to comments being passed on their “choice”. 

I guess I haven’t yet found anyone else either famous or in real life who I can identify with or has had a similar experience to me. Certainly lots of people had one or two of my issues but not all of them. I also desperately wanted to breastfeed and had not even considered formula feeding as I couldn’t see any reason why I wouldn’t be able to. 

My issue now comes what to do if we are lucky enough to have another baby (not yet, Pete are you reading this? Not just yet!) As I would very much like to breastfeed and I have seen lots of mums who were unsuccessful the first time to go on and have a great breastfeeding experience the second time round. But won’t that make my guilt over Frankie even worse?! Like I was giving his sibling something he didn’t get. 

I don’t know. Maybe I’m not really over this issue and maybe I just won’t know until the time comes. I just don’t think I could be blasΓ© about it as much as I’d like to and say “I’ll try and if it doesn’t work then so be it”. It should be the most natural thing in the world and to those that struggle, that fact makes it all the more painful. 

Our first home.Β 

That probably sounds like we are hobos, we aren’t. But we are getting a new house. Properly new, brand spanking. And prior to this after leaving home I lived with my ex in his house which I never felt was my home, even though I was there for 6 years; I then moved back home before going to London (more on that in a mo); home again (my poor parents, I’m the boomerang kid); and then to the rented house we are in now which was really a means to an end. Pete lived in staff accommodation; then with a friend; then briefly with me at my parents’ house etc as I mentioned.

I have to say, even though my “home” has always been my beloved parents’ house, our little flat in London really felt like a first home to me. Mine, Pete and Moon’s home. Wow, this is harder to write than I thought, she was so always so happy there and I have the most incredible memories of that year. The flat was fully furnished but somehow it fitted me and Moon so well. It was my Sex and The City flat. I say my because Pete was hardly there and he would tell you the same. He will also tell you how much the rent was; Β£1500 a month for anyone wondering. Yeh, I know. I don’t think Pete has the same rose tinted memories as me about it either. But I’m keeping my version. 

The house we are in now, although fucking awful, makes me feel somewhat bittersweet about leaving. I can’t wait to get away from the parking issues, the crazy guy across the road and the fucking Thursday night bell ringing but at the same time my baby boy came home here, my Moon died here. But overall I can’t wait to leave. To go to a place of our own. And Moon is with us obviously, we have her ashes in a little box, someone suggested scattering them in her favourite place, her favourite place was bed so she is staying with us in our bedroom anywhere and everywhere we go. To be scattered outside would be hell for my Maggie! She was an indoor girl. Sorry, digression there. 

In 6 weeks it’ll be ready (all being well) and we have picked the paint, flooring, tiles, kitchen and it’s just so much fun and so exciting. It’s finally going to feel like we can settle a little. My feeling of living in rented properties is that you never fully settle in, you know there is ultimately going to be an end point and so you never feel like there is much point in fully doing anything. 

So now I’m going to turn over a new leaf, stop living like a student and be extremely tidy and organised and house wife extraordinaire. That’s my plan. I wouldn’t put money on me if I’m honest πŸ˜‚

Life before Frankie.Β 

I can hardly remember or even imagine life before Frankie. Is what I should say. I do remember. And I do miss it in many ways. I don’t feel I have to defend or justify that, it doesn’t detract from how much I love my son but my life is forever changed. 

I miss being selfish. And spending hours doing my make up or watching crap on tv without interruption. Or staying in bed. Fuck all that, I just miss sleeping. 

But I mainly miss nights out. I miss getting dressed up and going out with my Pete. And dancing. And we danced, and snogged on the dance floor. And ultimately, that’s how we ended up with Frankie 😊 (not on the dance floor may I add!) 

I do however think that because I hadn’t had that life of going out when I was younger and started at 25, I really enjoyed every single night out. I really feel I made the most of it and as such if I were to never go out and dance again, I have the most amazing memories and know I had some of the best nights ever. With Pete. 

I can’t say I don’t resent that Pete can go out still and drink and dance the night away. Cos I do. He doesn’t very often, in fact I think he’s gone out 2 or 3 times since Frankie was born. But the fact that he just can makes me jealous. 

And now dancing is with a little mini Pete, to the tune of Thomas the Tank Engine. And watching his enthralled little face as he watches In The Night Garden. And you know what, that’s pretty cool too. Life just changes and adjusts in motherhood. It’s only taken me nearly 14 months to embrace it but we all get there eventually! 

Life gets in the way.Β 

I’ve started writing a few posts over the last month or so and the tone has felt really negative even tho I’ve been feeling quite positive lately so not sure what that’s about. 

There’s been a few big changes since I last wrote. We have bought a house!! It’s a lovely brand spanker as well so it’ll be all fresh and new and we move in a few weeks! I’m so excited. Finally a place to call our own instead of renting! I cant wait to just hang a picture on the wall or put up a shelf! It’s the little things! I think I’ll do some posts about that as it’s an experience that’s for sure!! 

Due to a few changes in circumstance I’ve had to finish at my job with the charity. I was gutted as I was really enjoying it but sadly sometimes you have to make a choice that is right for your family and not just for you. I feel so grateful to them though and am in the process of organising a charity walk to try and give back a bit. 

Pete is busier and busier, being a chef WAG is hard. Harder than anyone who hasn’t experienced it can ever imagine. He is basically working 7 days a week at the moment and it’s sad. He is misisng out on so much with Frankie. Maybe this is the subject for a post all of its own. I know it’s all working towards a better future for us but I’m afraid for the here and now, it’s just a bit shit. Frankie will only be this little once. 

Talking of which, little dude got his first haircut!! 


I don’t think I need to say anymore cos just look at him. I made that 😊 He was so good and I managed not to cry. He looks so grown up now though! And he’s wandering round even more like the baby thug he is. 

I can’t even remember if I’ve mentioned the new dog. Juno, Miniature Dachshund, Massive Twat. I didn’t want to replace Moon, and she never will. She’s a bit of a dick but she’s starting to settle down a bit and make me stop hating her being in my house. Honestly, she’s been a right test!! 

I think that about catches you up!! And to Nat, thank you for giving me the gentle nudge I needed. Love you lots. 😘 some friends are just so special that you know you want to keep them forever. 

Valentines Day.Β 

Apologies for the quick succession of posts after being silent for ages!! I’m all or nothing πŸ˜‚

I like Valentines Day, I think it’s nice. I used to put a lot of emphasis on it, hoping that this would be the year my ex would show his love for me, cos he didn’t do it any other time of the year. In fact it was the phrase “fuck Valentines Day” that effectively gave me the push to leave him. I left 2 months later. 

Now, I have Peter. Who lets me know how much he loves me all the time. And I feel so lucky everyday. Last year we had just had Little Man and so it was a bit of a blur but we were in a love bubble. Before that I was all about the gifts! I can’t lie, to finally have someone spoil me was incredible and I enjoyed being able to post a picture of my “love loot” for all the world to see and be jealous of haha! 

This year, I don’t care. As long as I have my card I’m happy. And I feel like my lack of gushy post showing off my gifts actually says more this time. I think this must be contentment. 

I’m sorry for being a twat again πŸ˜‚ you all must hate me and Pete. He is a dick quite often I promise. And he rarely washes up πŸ˜’

Frankie is One.Β 

How did that even happen? He makes me so proud every single day; his happy little face, his dirty little laugh and the clever little things he does. 

He’s so bright I don’t want to miss a single thing. Everytime he passes me a piece of lego, rubs his hands together to copy me using hand sanitiser or learning to Indian call (Native American?) I don’t want to not be there to see it or pretend a piece of lego is a phone. 
We threw him a monster party, a full soft play set up and cowboy and Indian theme. It was awesome. And he had the best day ever. I thought i had gone a bit stupid and spent to much for a birthday he won’t remember but just seeing him playing with everything and revelling in the attention just made it all worthwhile. Cos I’ll remember. And when he’s 35, I’ll still remember my beautiful little boy grinning at everyone singing happy birthday to him. 

I feel like we had a shaky start but we are a team now. I feel like I’m being a good mum to him now and I think I’m finally getting better. Fingers crossed anyway. 

Who’s reading…?

Anytime someone tells me they’ve read my blog I am a combination of embarrassed, amazed and chuffed to bits. Mainly embarrassed. But it got me thinking, for all those people who I know or have known in real life that have read this, I wonder how many read it but don’t tell me? I wonder if anyone reads my struggles and actually revels in it? I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest. 

There have been times in my life where I have said things a little close to the knuckle, or spoken out of turn, of course there has. But there are also times that things said have been said totally out of context of changed to suit someone else’s story. And because I am a self proclaimed loud mouthed bitch, it’s a bit too easy to believe that I’m nasty too. Which I’m not. Pretty much anything I say, good or bad, is honest or at least what I believe. 

I don’t think honesty is always the best policy. I think there are many times I should have just shut the fuck up; I know there are many times that Pete wishes I would have just shut the fuck up. But I’m me, and I can’t be told. Or quieted. 

Except I don’t know if I am still me. And I’ve put myself on here in a very raw and vulnerable state and this is not the bitchy facade that people are used to, so to feel that anyone may be reading this and feeling pleased that I am struggling or even taking the piss is pretty shit really. 

But know this, it says a lot more about you than me and always remember; karma is a bigger bitch than I am. So good luck with that. 

This ones a downer…soz.Β 

I feel like I’m leaving this year as a pretty sorry excuse for a human being. I’m 30 years old, I should have my shit together by now. And I’m sat on the floor crying my eyes out because the baby is being clingy and moaning and the puppy is a yappy little fuck. The dual noise has sent me to a point that I have just had to sit and cry in the shower and let the noise carry on. Both are fine, just clingy as fuck and I can’t deal! I think I should maybe knock coffee on the head cos it makes my anxiety levels through the roof. 

I just feel sad going into a new year. I feel like I have no close friends. I have an amazing family but I think I must be such a burden on them cos I never leave them alone, I have nowhere else to go. I have an awesome boyfriend who I never see. And every so often it really fucks me off even though it’s what I signed up for. I just wish I had a good group of girlfriends I could call upon. I think in reality I wish my life resembled Sex and the City or Friends. Instead of being friendless and skint. I’m sorry to any of my friends reading this, but you know what I mean, we aren’t involved enough in each other’s lives to help. It sucks. 

I’m sorry for such a woe is me post on what should be a happy and sparkly night but I’m feeling very shit knowing that I am literally on my own tonight whilst everyone else is singing Auld Lang Syne and drinking champagne. 

2016.Β 

2016 has been a memorable and pivotal year, one that I know will remain as such for my lifetime. Most years pass by quite unremarkably but this one has now massively “Trumped” (see what I did there, a little topical, political pun) 2012 which was my previous big year.

I knew it was going to be a big one as I was pregnant for the majority of 2015 and so it wasn’t a surprise that I was going to have my world turned upside down by my Frankie Turdblossom. What I wasn’t at all prepared for and still can’t comprehend was that I would lose my Maggie Moon. An event which has shaken me to my core and I worry I may never fully be the same without my little squirrel rat. Again, if you think I am being overdramatic then you are reading the wrong blog. I won’t dwell on that further for now as I think it’s pretty clear how that has affected me.

This year has also seen further loss in the shape of best friends and my beloved job. Whilst I didn’t “lose” my job, I was put in a situation that made me feel that I was unable to return. However, that loss has lead to a new position working for an incredibly inspiring and humbling charity and as a role based mainly from home, I feel extremely lucky to be able to spend more time with my little boy.

All in all, it’s been an odd one with the highest highs and the lowest lows and to be honest I’m going into 2017 with trepidation. It’s difficult to look forward to a new year when the last one gave you a beating. But I want to wish anyone and everyone reading this a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, have a fabulous one and I hope it’s full of family time and loveliness.