Another month gone. 

This isn’t our month either. I’ve order some ovulation sticks to see if I can find out what’s going on cos my cycles are quite short and I think I need to start finding out what’s happening. I’m quite “in tune” with my body and any slight hormonal change or imbalance affects me hugely. 

I know it’s only early but every month that goes by I feel so deflated and a little defeated. I can’t help but feel those old feelings of my body failing me coming back. As much as I try and remain positive I can’t help but worry that I’ve been left with some problems following my birth with Frankie. I’ll know a bit more once I start testing for ovulation and then I can go from there. 

In the meantime I will just relish Frankie’s new found manners and continue to melt everytime he presents me with chocolate saying “pwease” 😍 I’m so lucky to have him. 


Facing my fears. 

After becoming increasingly consumed by my caulrophobia I’ve decided enough is enough. I need to sort myself out. It doesn’t outwardly affect me day to day but I would say there isn’t many days that go by that I don’t freak myself out a little either subconsciously or by something on TV that triggers it. 

With the rerelease of IT and Halloween on its way the panic has been pretty constant for the last month or two and it actually makes me hate myself a bit. It’s such a ridiculous phobia 😩 and I want to at least bring some sense of rationality back. 
I’ve emailed a couple of hypnotherapists, which was a really big step for me to do and haven’t received any response which made me really annoyed. Perhaps my phobia isn’t “good” enough for them. So I have done a bit of research and the help process seems to be exposure. Gradual exposure that increases until the fear element is reduced. To be honest just reading that at first gave me a panic attack but after a few weeks I’ve decided to at least try. 

I just don’t want to have a meltdown in front of Frankie if the situation arises. I tend to run if I see a clown (took a lot to write that, I’ve been avoiding it up to then…) and I simply cannot do that anymore with my little boy with me. I also don’t want to pass my phobia on inadvertently so I would at the very least like it under control to be indifferent or just able to walk by taking deep breaths. 

So my initial plan is to start with my good buddy Wikipedia, I plan to read the pages on IT, from the novel, up to the most recent film. From there I plan to read up on the history and origin of clowns. This may sound odd to some people but as the old saying goes, knowledge is power and I feel the more I know, the more rational I can be about it. That’s the plan anyway. 

Today, I took the step to read the novel page. And I’m ok. It was ok. I’ve set myself some rules, no reading anything before bedtime, make sure there is distraction around. And if I get freaked out, just close it down, do some breathing exercises and try again another day. I’m not going to pressure it but I want to move forward as quickly as I feel comfortable to. 

I don’t think I’ll ever want to actually watch the film. Although everything suggests I probably should although it’s not just that clown that scares me, in fact that’s just one manifestation, I’m scared of all clowns. I just feel that starting with reading about that particular clown is a “safe” place to start in that I am aware of it. After the reading, I think I’ll see how I feel and watch comfortable films/programmes that happen to have an appearance from a clown that I usually cover my eyes or fast forward. 

Anyway, that’s what I’m doing. Wish me luck. I will keep you posted. If you never hear from me again, I encountered a clown and it killed me and I was right all along. Lol. 


I have garnered some real life criticism for oversharing online. Which is fine, I fully appreciate that my parents don’t understand the need to tell anyone about what’s going on in their lives. And that other people choose to only promote the good. But for me, writing about what’s happening gets it out of my head and allows me to function better. Yes I could just keep a diary but I feel a blog makes me a bit more accountable. 

I’ve always been an oversharer. I’ve never been one to shy away from a question and I’m too honest for my own good. So if you’re one of the people who has thought “I didn’t want to know that” then perhaps you shouldn’t be reading this blog, cos it will get worse! I promise! Haha! 

Try, try again. 

God I’m naive. I assumed cos we got pregnant so easily with Frankie that once we decided we were gonna make him a sibling it would happen straight away. Obviously it didn’t and I spent the first month being a mentalist testing stupidly early and feeling more and more horrendous with each inevitable negative result. It didn’t help that my period decided to show up 2 days late as if to get my hopes up and then be a little red bitch. Since then I’ve tried to be a bit  more patient and actually didn’t even test this month. Yay, go me. Lol! Patience is a virtue and all that. 

Anyway. Dust myself off, gain a bit of sense back and try again this month!! I don’t want to be obsessive so I’m gonna just “try” not to think about it until after my period is due.  If you want to place bets against me you’d get pretty good odds, I’m beyond the realms of impatient. 

It’s weird, I so want a little buddy for Frankie. More than I want to go through the newborn stage again, I want him to have a lifelong pal which is why we want this age gap. Although now the irrational part of me is wishing we’d started trying sooner! But we had to be ready. 

This isn’t something that you talk about openly with people so I feel that by writing about it it will ease my obsession a little. Isn’t it weird, we spend most of our sexually active (what a cringey term) life trying not to get pregnant and then when you actually want it to happen it’s not as easy as you thought!! Frankie was the result of a lot of Jagermeister and dancing till dawn, maybe we should try that again…?

One year on. 

This is a tough week. Month. It’s one year today since my beautiful little Moon was taken far too soon. The picture used was taken a year ago on the day I write this and it seriously hurts my heart. 

Day to day I’m fine, I have her pictures up and for the most part I’m ok but when I actually think about it properly and allow myself to acknowledge how much I miss that little dog and how permanent that Moon shaped void is. Frankie says “night Moon” (we’ll sort of says that) and waves at her picture before bed, its both heart melting and heart breaking. 

This won’t be very long, I could go on and on but I couldn’t let this day go by without commemorating my furry first born. And she always will be that to me. I genuinely don’t care what anyone else thinks about how much I love(d) my dog, whichever tense you want to use, that little angel was a huge chapter of my life and kept me going through some very dark times. And I miss her, every single day.  


I wrote this a few months ago and after month 4 of no joy I thought I would post it to follow this part of the “journey” cos I naively thought that it would happen as quickly as it did the first time round. 

I don’t even know if this will see the light of day. I just wanted to write it down really. I hate the term “trying for a baby”, I don’t think anyone needs to know that we are having more sex than usual. It’s a bizarre thing to announce. But yeh, we want another! Cos why wouldn’t we, I did a great job first time round. Lol. 

I joke now, I’m very much ok and very much wanting to add to our family. Frankie is such a joy that I can’t think of anything better than to have another!! There’ll be 2 years between assuming we are lucky enough to get pregnant soon. Pete is enjoying himself anyway haha!! 
I have thought about all of the issues I encountered and I will be reading back through my posts to make sure I am fully armed with information. I feel a sense of empowerment this time round in place of the sense of the unknown with Frankie. I plan to be kinder to myself for a start, I will be going on the plan for the worst and hope for the best standpoint in terms of birth. I will be an irritating pregnant woman, I will be asking, demanding and not backing down to ensure I get answers this time round. I don’t want to be left hanging again with a failed induction resulting in a c section anyway. I have Frankie to think about this time, I’m not being away from him for any unnecessary length of time. 

My overwhelming feeling is that of excitement. I am so excited. I look at Frankie and just can’t wait to give him a sibling. I had a moment of guilt that it will no longer be just the two of us but it was just a moment as we always wanted more that one. I loved having a big brother, I never wanted to be an only child. That closeness, those inside jokes, the way we know each other is something that I cherish so very much and can’t wait to see Frankie share private jokes with his brother or sister and inevitably annoy the hell out of them. 

The noise, the chaos, I can’t wait. 

Applying for jobs is a bit shit. 

I couldn’t think of a snappier title. Cos it’s true isn’t it! I have just been sent the “thank you for attending the interview but you didn’t get the job. Thanks but no thanks” email following a face to face interview yesterday that I drove an hour and a half for and spent £100 on a new outfit. This had been preceded by a Skype call and a phone interview. Basically for a month this has consumed me a little. And to be honest after the interview yesterday I didn’t really want the job, I wanted the money. I really wanted the money, my income would double which would have been nice. 

But it has given me a kick up the arse to aim a bit higher for myself. I got through to the last 3 interviewees which is great but I could tell as soon as the client met me yesterday that I wasn’t what she wanted. I bet it was my hair. Lol. Not in a bad way but it was very obvious I wasn’t what she was looking for and then she didn’t ask me many specific questions so her mind was made up straight away. I’ve interviewed enough people myself to know the “not interested” face and attitude. 

But for the first time I really am ok about it. Pete gave me a pep talk about what was the worst that could happen and since that’s not getting the job, it’s not that bad. He was right. Again. Bastard. It wasn’t meant to be and that’s cool. I’m sure the person she chose is perfect and the perfect role for me is right around the corner. 

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to. I shall keep you posted on the self imposed ass kicking. I actually do that when running but that’s a whole other post. Or maybe I should never tell anyone that again…

To my boy. 

My beautiful boy. I am so lucky to be your momma. I am so proud of the kind, sweet, funny, rebellious, fearless little hooligan you are. I just want you to know that. 

We didn’t have the best of starts and for that I will be forever sorry. I was a little shell shocked and it took me some time to find my stride but we got there dude and we’re good. 

You have changed me in so many ways but also having you has strengthened my loyalty and need to protect. There is nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you with every ounce of my being. Nothing. There is nothing that you couldn’t tell me, I will always listen without judgement. I will offer advice when you want to hear it. I will always be on the other end of the phone, no matter the time. 

I would hate for you to make any of my mistakes and I will try and equip you with all the tools to make the best decisions but you’ll mess up, we all do, I just hope you can learn from those mistakes and move on. I wish I could protect you from ever feeling any pain, sorrow or heartache but I can’t. Never be too big and bad for a cuddle tho. 

Your smile melts my very being. Your cuddles make my world go round. You infuriate me daily as well, don’t think you don’t, but that’s all part of the fun. But that face of yours, well, it’s gonna get you away with murder you cheeky monkey. 


I’ve always been a bit shit at taking pictures. Not that I’m not very good at it, I just don’t do it. I’m generally enjoying myself and forget. And to be honest some of the times I have the best photographs, I didn’t have the best time. Not sure if that’s coincidence or not. 

Anyway, my little boy is growing up fast. And I try and take one picture a day at the very least, it’s a thing I decided when he was about 6 months old. Luckily the PND didn’t stop me taking pics but I wish I had more from before 6 months cos they were sporadic. But beyond shoving a camera in his face, since he now steals my phone if he can see it so I often end up with a picture of the floor, I am consciously trying to commit every beautiful moment to memory. He is changing constantly and I want to remember everything. 

Everyday there is a tear inducing moment that makes me so proud to be Frankie’s momma. Every single day. Whether it’s just a little kiss that he has stopped playing to come and give me or a delighted little giggle at jumping in a puddle or the little pat he gives me on my shoulder when I’m carrying him. He does things that make my heart melt and break at the same time and I can’t help but think that soon he won’t need me in the same way he does now. It’s so hard to think that I will have to let him go a little at a time before he eventually has to go to school. Pete says I’m not allowed to homeschool him. Which I suppose is fair. But still, he’s mine and I want to keep him forever. 

Anyway, I’m crying now and anticipate being an embarrassment of a mother for the rest of my life. I’m ok with that to be honest. This shit should be more documented, the huge wall of love and emotion that smacks you in the face is something that you need to prepare for a little more!! 

Extreme parenting. 

I gave birth to the next Eddie the Eagle. I’m sure of it. He’s (nearly) 17 months and he’s such a little daredevil!! He throws himself off everything-the slide, the sofa, me! My nerves are shot to shit and I find everyday even more exhausting than normal!! 

I watch him and he will find something fun, such as going down the slide and then it obviously gets a bit dull for him and he finds new ways to “liven” it up a bit. I’m sure it’s very clever in many ways but sometimes I don’t catch him and his bruises tell the tale of a stunt baby and his nervous momma. Sure he cries for a little bit, has a cuddle, and then cracks on with the next extreme sport he’s made up. 

I didn’t sign up for a stunt baby and none of the manuals warned me of this!! Stairs, well he’s done crawling up them (I’m always there, no need for the childline calls) so now he’ll hold onto the bannister rails and every so often swing round into my legs, laughing like a drain. My god, I’m gonna have a heart attack if he carries on. 

One thing is for sure, my reflexes are getting brilliant. But I literally scream for him to stop sometimes and I think everyone things I’m being totally overbearing and overprotective but it’s because he is one step ahead of everyone!! I have to think of the worst case scenario of every obstacle cos I know that’s what he’ll do. 
Anyway, that’s off my chest. I feel better now. Going for an early night ready for tomorrow’s games of “catch the baby”.