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”. 

What life is all about. 

I think I used to be quite materialistic. I was all about designer labels and having something that no one else had. I think in psychiatry terms it would have been me filling a void in my relationship with pretty things to mask my disappointment in my life. Or I just really like pretty things. I still do, if I still had the money I would buy new shoes all the time. Although now the shopping habit has extended to stuff for Frankie. In fact now that I am on so much of a budget I would sooner get him something whilst I look like shit. 

Totally digressed there. Soz. So now, I realise that life isn’t about material shit, it’s about a spontaneous kiss from a little boy who calls me mama. Or baba cos he thinks that’s just what we call each other. It’s about those beautiful sleepy cuddles. He won’t remember that he had the most awesome little Converse but he will remember that I was here for him. I appreciate a lot of people do have to work full time and also want to work full time but for me I just want to be with my boy. I didn’t think I’d be like that either but I can work when he goes to school, for now I wouldn’t trade the fact that I’ve been there for every single milestone for any amount of money. 

I love him so much that he makes me broody, I just want more of him! But then I’m torn between us never being just the 2 of us again. I know we have Pete but for the most part it’s me and my buddy. But I guess the fun and love just increases. I fully understand why people have so many babies now. Cos they are awesome. And for me, they make everything worthwhile. 

I just want to add that I am aware there is more to life than having babies and I fully understand why people choose not to have them but for someone who spent a long time trying to find a bit of self worth, bringing my little man into this world and imparting him with wisdom is what life is all about for me. 

This world is a mess. 

The title says it all really. I’m not sure anyone is that interested in my views on the most recent attack, but you’re gonna get them anyway. 

I’m not so naive that I’ve seen other attacks and thought that they were too far away to affect me. I’ve been deeply affected by them all to be honest, in more ways than I realise  sometimes. I can remember vividly the moments I learnt about each one since 9/11. And there wasn’t a day that went by when I lived in London and the tube was my transport that I didn’t think about the 7/7 bombings. Especially as my local station was Edgware Road. But I think the Manchester attack is something else and I think this is how a lot of people feel. This was a target against children. Fucking innocent children. 

I have watched the news constantl to find out what’s happening and I just can’t stop the tears. Tears of sheer empathy for the most part. I can only imagine how these people feel and I can’t stop the tears. But also tears of guilt. Guilt for bringing a little boy into a world in which I can’t protect him. 

I can’t help but feel angry that the hideous monster who did this has been named ahead of a lot of the innocent people who lost their lives. I want to know who they were so that I can mourn their loss in some small way. Their lives have been lost in vain, the least we can do is console their families in anyway possible. But there is no consolation. I cannot imagine the immense pain of those parents, siblings, loved ones and friends who knew that they were sending off their beloved to see their favourite pop star only to have them not come home. How the fuck is that fair? 

I know my views aren’t particularly original and I’m not the first to say it but this shit is hard to deal with.  The whole world has changed from when I was a kid and it’s a hard shift to deal with. To process. I feel an intense anger at the world and I needed to write it down. 

We need more love. Hate breeds hate but fuck it’s hard to avoid isn’t it? Rest in Peace to those who lost their lives, all my love to those still here. 


I think I’ve already expressed my thoughts about people being free and easy with their opinions on my parenting but the continuation of implying that I’m doing it wrong or “making a rod for my own back” is, quite frankly, starting to fuck me off. 

Frankie gets up generally at 5.30am. Everyday. That is not because of my being soft on him. To be honest, the sweary rants that I have every morning at that time are beyond soft. I need to stop before he starts to say “fuck”. Between him and the dog, the early mornings are slowly killing me I’m sure. I am a person who needs a lot of sleep. But in 15 months I’ve had to cope without a lot, I should be used to it but I’m not. If I’m being honest it’s the one thing about being a mum that I really hate. 

I’ve tried leaving him to it, which sometimes works to about 6am. Occasionally 6.30. But then the dogs starts screaming cos she’s a dick and that’s it, no one (except Pete 😒) is going back to sleep. If he’s properly crying, I’m not going to leave him to do so. Not my style, good on you if you can do that but I think that’s more damaging than me shouty swearing about getting up early. 

I’m not the only parent to have a kid that wakes up early. At all. But because I’m from a family of “good sleepers”, apparently it’s my doing. I don’t mean to direct this at any one of you, but please think about what you’re saying and maybe just say it behind my back. Or not at all. That’d be nice. He wakes up early, I’m tired, that’s it. It’s no ones fault, it’s just how he is. 

I just wish CBeebies started earlier to be honest. Waking up before CBeebies is possibly the most depressing part of it. 

Babies are so fricking expensive! 

I started writing this post months and months ago and shelved it cos I felt a bit nervous about addressing it but I’m in a “sod it” mood so here we go!! 

Seriously. It’s ridiculous how expensive they are. I really don’t think I buy unnecessary stuff either! It’s rare that I buy him stuff that he doesn’t use or wear. Except a stupidly expensive chewy blanket thing. He hates it and I keep forcing it on him. And the Tsum Tsums but they are clearly for me anyway! He doesn’t care about Baymax, Stitch, Yoda and R2D2! 
The expense becomes evident from the minute you take a pregnancy test as you need a pay day loan just to buy a couple. I exaggerate obviously but they are crazy expensive and I’m sure they don’t need to be. 

The most annoying thing for me is how the same items in the same shop are often priced differently if they are in the baby aisle compared to the other aisles. This really pisses me off. The 2 worst culprits of this that I’ve noticed are cotton buds and little packs of raisins. I bought the latter in one shop for about £1 for 12 of the small packs, on the baby aisle they were nearly £3. That’s actually disgraceful and should be illegal. 

I think the hindsight of having a nearly 15 month old and the fact I am sorting through everything to move has made me realise what was worth the money and what was a total rip off. I may do a post all of its own on that but Pete will read it and see how much money I wasted 🙈

Trolling. Why, how and WTF. 

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 😂) 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.