This is the smile of freedom. The biggest, cheesiest grin I’ve had for a while and all captured last weekend when I took part in one of those bonkers mud run thingys.

Like the Great North Run, the Muscle Acre Summer Madness was one of my pregnancy projects. Whilst full of crazy hormones and frustrated at my lack of sporting activities, annoyed at my ever changing-ever growing body, I decided to sign up for a few challenges to help my body bounce back to pre-pregnancy weight and shape. But then real life happened and quite frankly even if I could’ve started running I didn’t have the energy, motivation or even the time to get back into things.

I know as well as anyone that exercise makes you feel good so the last few months have been that constant mental battle between knowing what is best and having the energy to carry it out. Anyway I was deemed fit enough to run last week by the physio and with her warnings of “take it slow”, “Run, walk, run”, “avoid hills” and “start with 10 minutes and gradually build it up” I went for my first run. Just a little 4km with a few hills and no stopping. I couldn’t help myself. I just felt FREE so the majority of her advice went out the window. I was child free and felt energised. Running is MY TIME. It’s how I process my day, release my stresses, feel strength and as a little boost my body looks better for it. So once I got back beaming that I’d achieved it I was super excited about the Great North Run and although there’s only 8 weeks to go I genuinely think I can do it.

So that leads to Sunday. Sunday was the Muscle Acre Summer Madness which I was sure I was going to miss. But then there’s me Mrs stubborn, or I like to say determined, wasn’t going to give in and I’m so pleased I didn’t. I mean look at that smile. I had fun. Oodles of fun wading through mud, climbing wooden towers, carrying logs and sandbags and that water slide! Well I felt like a big kid. What a brilliant experience. It felt great to do something for me but to top it off I had my beautiful family at the finish line cheering me on. There’s no greater motivation. I’d recommend it to anyone.

So that’s given me a real boost to up my training for the half marathon in September. Great timing really as the nursery holidays start today and as much as I’m looking forward to them this year I know I’ll need that ‘me time’ more than ever as days can be exhausting with little ones.

Today is our biggest tiny humans last day at nursery before she starts school in September and to say I’m emotional about it is an understatement. Everybody says it but the time has gone so quickly. She was just a 10 month old baby when she first started at nursery, then she was 2 when she started at Little Sandhurst Nursery and today she is leaving. We couldn’t be more grateful for all of the support LSNG have given G and our family so a big shout out to all of them. It’s a testament to their hard work and enthusiasm which brings G to tears when she doesn’t want to come home in the evening because she’s having too much fun. She always says “five more minutes Mummy” or “please can I stay for mushroom club” which is their after school club. You’d think she preferred it to being at home but I’m assured that’s the sign of a confident tiny one and that is what she has become. I’m just hoping she doesn’t cry at pick up today as that will send me right over the edge although we’ve already planted the seed of a bribe tea at McDonald’s so we might be ok!! Stop growing up so fast!


Camping with 3 kids

Camping with 3 kids

If you’re thinking about doing this then it may be a good idea to reconsider ALL of your options like a staycation, visiting a distant relative or just cancelling your annual leave altogether and going to work! All of those options have to be better than going camping with 3 kids. After doing it last weekend I can safely say I would rather rub chillies in my eyes than do it again.

I thought it would be a great idea to take the family camping for the weekend at the Big Church Day Out festival last weekend. L wasn’t keen mainly because she doesn’t like festivals or crowds but I really wanted to go so I did. Big Church Day out is a festival that brings together thousands of Christians from all over the UK and Europe to worship and celebrate all that is good.

The festival has a special place in my heart as we took the girls there last year and it was the day after our embryo was transferred and that little embryo is now our tiniest human. So technically she has been to the festival twice!! I remember thinking about how we could be pregnant the whole day we were there so it’s nice to go back with our little success story.

Thankfully L came with us on the Friday to set up. I was grateful for the extra pair of hands which was needed just to transport all of the stuff. I mean have you seen how much STUFF you need to go camping? Then all the child paraphernalia on top of that! Geepers my car was weighed down and bursting at the seams. Then all that STUFF has to go back home with you and be put away in the right place when all of the excitement of the trip has worn off and all that’s left is the smell of outdoors and portaloos haunting you.

The first night we were all excited and clean and enjoying ourselves. We went out for dinner in the village pub which was lovely and I thought “this is easy. I can totally do this”. Then there was the night. The dark of night set in and the chaotic one decided it would be fine to wake 5 times. Thankfully the tiniest human did me a favour and I only had to get up to feed her once. She is an angel. L whispered “warrior” when I got up and it made me smile and feel strong. When I asked her the next day why she said it her reply was “You just are, and even more so because you’re determined to do this with the kids this weekend”. Aww made me feel all warm, gooey and appreciated inside.

I was sad when L left but I understand her and I know there is no point in forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to. So off we set on our separate ways. I had made this cart to transport the kids around from an idea on pinterest. It was perfect. More so when I managed to recruit someone else to drag them around in it!!! I got loads of comments about it, although I wasn’t feeling quite so smug when I came round a corner too quickly and it rolled over with the bigger girls inside! Bad mum moment! They were fine of course but I certainly took the corners a lot slower after that. So I could be seen over the weekend with the tiny one in a sling strapped to my chest and the two bigger girls being transported along in their wagon. I was sweating! Like full-on-almost-exploding-knee-pit-and-under-boob-sweat sweating!!! Not attractive at all. Thankfully I did manage a shower over the weekend it was just the kids that didn’t!!

We saw some fantastic artists on the various stages and there was loads for the kids to do. They had an absolute ball. The downside was I spent half my time in portaloos with the kids. I tried to make them go when I was there but then they would say they didn’t need it. I would then walk about 500m back to a stage or exhibit and one of them would now need it so I’d have to go all the way back 3 kids in tow with the baby pinned to my chest. That made it interesting when I needed the toilet! I was grateful I had a blocked nose but seriously I was so sick of having to visit those plastic cabins full of dirty mess. You can imagine my WTF face when I dropped my hair towel on the floor in the portaloos and then the grand finale was my friend who gave G a punnet of blueberries. Before I knew it she had ate the lot and nobody needs to clean up that mess, by hand, from a travel dinosaur potty positioned at your camp. L could not hack this as even I was broken!

I don’t think I’ve been so thankful to see my house. It feels like luxury 5 star accommodation in comparison. I was so grateful for running water and toilets that flush but I think L wanted to bleach us all when we arrived back home.

Some bits of the weekend were AMAZING. Spending time with friends, seeing the girls having such a great time outdoors, the artists and sessions we took part in were brilliant, thought provoking and interesting. To top it off I came away with a nice sunkissed glow. But if it hadn’t of been for my friends who helped me out I wouldn’t have lasted the whole weekend so for them I am grateful. Now I could sleep for a week, my body feels like it’s been hit by a bus and all of the prep that went into it was too much. Next year I’m definitely just going for the day. L said she will come too!! Woohoo!

So after that super busy weekend I’ve been smacked in the face with the joys of half term! Seriously why do the nurseries and schools close??! I’ll be there super sharp on Monday morning to drop the noisy ones off as I need some quiet time and my toddler to stop telling me “I don’t like you”!

I need caffeine.

I need caffeine.

Today is a caffeinated drinks and sugar kind of day after very little sleep from having to keep getting up putting the dummy back in to settle the tiny one. How do people do that? It seems counter productive. The other girls never took to a dummy so we never had this experience and I’ve only just stopped wrapping the baby into a burrito and I’m finding she isn’t going off as easily so I’m staggering around like a crazy drunk on this repeated loop of popping that dummy back in to hopefully get at least an hours sleep all the way through. I think I was up at least 6 times last night but I lost count, or the will to live, at about 3am. Surely there has to be a better way?

You’d think by child three I’d have cracked this parenting lark but it just shows you each child comes with its own set of rules and instructions and they’re in a different language so there’s no way of knowing what to do.

To make matters worse, today is swimming day which is my least favourite. It’s just the energy trying to coordinate the three of them with their lunch and then the task of getting them all dressed afterwards. So wish I could pay someone to do this for me! I would pick that over a cleaner or ironer any day.

Roll on September when Mammy will be taking over swimming duties on a Saturday morning and if the kids are really lucky she can be like a McDonald’s Dad and take them for lunch afterwards! She’s in good training after I negotiated for her to take our big girls to a kids party on Sunday along with one of their friends. L was ACTUALLY in charge of 3 kids! Ha ha! Yes! She has three kids too so she will need to get used to it.

Tomorrow I’m leaving them all for the first time ever for a whole afternoon while I head off with friends for a bottomless prosecco lunch. I’m going through a mixture of emotions feeling bad leaving them, especially the little one, who I will need to express for and what if she doesn’t take the bottle? Thankfully I have a back up plan of a super nanny who has accomplished the bottle feed before who can come to the rescue if needed. Then there is a part of me that doesn’t feel guilty one bit. That actually I deserve to let my hair down a little and go have some me time away from the kids. Not too much prosecco though as I can’t be dealing with a hangover on Sunday. That would not be pretty. Plus there is the risk of overdoing it since I’m massively out of practice from a drinking session. It’s been way over a year!

L is currently on a mini break. Well actually that depends on who you ask. Supposedly it’s a work thing. But this work thing involves a meal with colleagues, a night in a hotel and alcoholic beverages. To me that sounds like a mini break!! Anyway supposedly she wasn’t going to drink and was going to go to bed after the meal as she had an early start but sounds like she may have been forced into partaking in some beverages as we didn’t hear from her all night and I get a message this morning saying how she feels a bit swimmy (code for hungover as hell and please clear the diary for the evening as she will be too rough to do anything).

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem as our social calendar is fairly limited at the moment however tonight I had booked a babysitter so we can go for a practice walk as we’re hoping to take part in a hike in July and L wants to do some training. I very much doubt we will be going on any practice walk tonight.

I guess the whole family is feeling a bit weary getting to the end of the week. I asked G to put baby’s dummy in and she said “Mummy I’m sick of this. She needs milk” that’s from a 4 year old! And chaotic isn’t much better she’s the noisiest human in the house but had the cheek to cover her ears for the entire car journey as the tiny human was exercising her lungs. I think we all need a mini break!

More than being a Mum?

More than being a Mum?

It was that point when you’ve recently had a baby and your new normal life has kicked in and you’re thinking “Is this it?”. Not that your unhappy or ungrateful for all you have but just the new routine is sometimes really hard or really dull or both. You feel like maternity leave will last forever and you’re not sure how you will be able to be the mum, the wife and the housekeeper for all that time without having something just for yourself. Well that’s how I felt a few weeks ago.

I feel that in the first few months, or maybe even years, of parenthood you lose yourself as an individual. You are a mum now and your own identity can be lost in this. I think partly it’s down to confidence. You put all of your effort and focus into being a mum so anything outside of that comfort zone feels scary and alien. Right now I look around at my wonderful girls and I feel exhausted. I’m a mum 24/7 with no time for me, Katy. I wonder if all I am is a milk machine feeding round the clock, preparing food for the older girls, constantly doing household chores which are never ending but battling with who I am and how do I flourish in all of this when I don’t even have the time to dry my hair or shave my legs.

My confidence was knocked. I rang the gym to book a class but hung up before I got through as I chickened out of it. Perhaps part of it was the thought of the physical exertion but the other part was being in that environment meeting new people and being on my own! I know! I moan about how I can’t even go to the toilet on my own but then I am scared to be on my own too. My children have become my safety net. When I was pregnant I always felt so confident and sure of myself. I’m not sure if that’s all those hormones boosting me or if it’s just the empowerment that comes with knowing you are responsible for growing a life. But with that gone the thought of me being on my own in some situations is oddly frightening!

For some I know it is enough to be at home and provide for your family but that’s not me. When I’m feeling nervous or scared I think I could be that person but deep down I know I couldn’t.

I was invited to an award ceremony at work. When I first heard about it I said “I’m not going. I won’t fit in my clothes and I don’t feel up to it”. Thankfully L and my good friends encouraged me to just go and enjoy it and I’m glad I did. 9 weeks since the tiny human arrived and I managed to fit into my tailored undress uniform that was measured for me in 2010. Pre kids!! That’s an achievement in itself. Plus I received a certificate for some work that I did last year.

Being at work gave me the reminder that I needed that I am more than just a mum. That I have successes and achievements at work in a career I love, which I want to build on. I felt proud to receive an award especially since my work is so enjoyable and rewarding.

I helped at the local church office the other week and a few people commented on how good I was. This is where people forget that you’re not just a mum but you’re a professional who manages a career. So there is more to me than the tired; dishevvelled looking mum dragging 3 small children around.

Work made me feel like Katy. I came away from the awards really buzzing. It was a blessing in disguise, exactly when I needed it, which was two fold. It made me feel excited about my new role going back to work and that I have something for myself more than being a mum and housewife but what it also did was remind me how this maternity leave is so precious. That before I know it I will be back at work and juggling that work life balance (and probably moaning about it) so I really need to make the most of it as already it is going too fast.

It’s only now that I’m feeling more at ease with my new normal and I’m certainly not going to wish this time away.

Surviving the Easter Holidays

Surviving the Easter Holidays

Is anybody else sick of the rain? Geepers its miserable and it’s the Easter holidays! I think it is selfish that the nursery is closed for 2 whole weeks. Not because I’m concerned for my child’s learning or development but how am I meant to cope with all three kids at home on my own while L works? And why do some people call it the Easter break? It’s not a break for me although it could break me! I’ve been openly dreading it. I love my children so so much but nursery gives me a break, it gives me time to rest and get through the never ending list of jobs that need to be completed to run a household and saves some of my sanity. Then there are those mums who tell you how much they’re looking forward to the holidays as they have so many activities planned and they’re all happy and bouncy talking about how lovely it is to have their darling child home with them every day. I just want to punch them. Weirdos. Go away with your grand pinterest parenting ideas and leave me to kick into survival mode to make it through each day.

Survival mode in reality is me secret eating the kids Easter eggs in the utility room. So if you got our kids an Easter egg please know it’s going to a better cause to keep me alive and happy; plus the tiny human loves chocolate milk! Only thing is I’ve nearly been found out a few times by the chaotic one who can smell chocolate from another room – she’s like her Mammy. It’s now becoming a bit of a challenge getting the chocolate from the fridge, out of the kitchen and into the utility room before being caught red handed by the pint-sized detective. I feel like some sort of secret agent crossed by a ninja but nothing will come between me and my chocolate fix.

My other survival tactic is taking life one day at a time and by doing so I am actually enjoying myself. It’s hard. Like flippin grafting like I’ve never grafted before hard but I’ve loved spending time with all of my girls. I had a complete wobble that I was missing parts of each child growing up and I felt sad (obviously exacerbated with the ridiculous amount of hormones still floating around my body). Now things have slowed down. We don’t have to be anywhere for a certain time and I’m not rushing around. I’ve started to enjoy the good moments more or move on from the crappy times quicker. I’m feeling like I’m there for them all as much as I can be and the guilt is slowly dissipating. Just need to try and get a bit more time with L and then I’ll feel like a winner. I’m hoping she understands I’m choosing sleep over her for now.

I was feeling epic the other morning when I had all 3 kids dressed and ready to leave the house by 8:27 but by 10:27 they were all miserable crying and I was trapped in the car with them stuck in traffic. G cried saying she was too hot and I told her not to be silly then she puked in the car. Now who’s silly?!! Thankfully she perked up once we got out of the car and we took the tiny one to get her first lot of immunisatons. She is 8 weeks already! The time is flying by. Thankfully I didn’t have a chance to get all emotional about inflicting pain on our little one as I was too busy trying to keep the bigger girls occupied. They were a good distraction.

Today I made it to the supermarket with the three kids in tow, picked up everything we needed and took it to the till where I realised I’d left my purse in the car! FFS!!!! I didn’t cry which shows big progress but I left the shopping at the till, made a return trip to the car to retrieve the purse then paid for the food. I did consider if there was a suitable person I could leave the kids with while I legged it to the car which would be so much quicker than taking all of them but there was nobody I knew as I looked desperately around the queues. I would’ve even been happy if super bouncy craft Mum popped up at just the right time to babysit for a minute but she’s probably way too organised and probably done an online shop or grows her own food in the garden.

We are adjusting to being a family of five and I’m learning how to be a mum of three and thankfully it’s getting a little easier. But to do this I’m having to learn to be kinder to myself, to let things go, to cry if I need to and accept help rather than being stubborn. To accept that it’s going to be hard and realise every day I am achieving.

Now to survive one more week of the “break” and it’s when L is jetting off to Vegas with her BFF for a long weekend of partying. Here’s hoping I get more than a “my wife went to Vegas and all she got me was this lousy tshirt” t-shirt when she returns!!!

It does get better!

It does get better!

I’ve just been chatting to a lady in a coffee shop who was cooing over the tiny one who is now 7 weeks old. I now have the ability to chat to strangers and I’m enjoying showing off my not so tiny, almost 10lb, baby. At the end she said “You look so well. Unbelievably well in fact” and at that point I no longer felt like a fraud. I do actually feel better than I have. Don’t get me wrong I’m not 100 percent yet but things are improving. It’s likely I’ll have to have another surgery soon so physically that’s a setback but feeling better emotionally is really helping. Plus who wouldn’t be happy with a hot chocolate, whipped cream and a big fat slice of carrot cake for breakfast! But seriously, I’m not crying all of the time and not wandering around like a complete space cadet feeling unable to cope, and I’m laughing again. It’s baby steps but hey I only produced a whole new life 7 weeks ago!

Don’t get me wrong that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Far from it. I feel like I’m stretching myself so thin and constantly overcome with guilt when I can’t meet the demands of my young family. But I’m giving as much as I can. After the girls have had my all there’s nothing left for L or me but I do know it will get easier….maybe in 18 years!

I’ve had to lower my standards a lot. The baby was out in non matching pink clothes yesterday and G went to nursery with two pairs of knickers on this week which I spotted when she was on the toilet before nursery but by then she had her trousers on and shoes so there was no way I was even trying to rectify that at 08:45 when nursery starts at 9. The next day I completely forgot to put her in the shower after she’d wet the bed in the night so off she went to nursery probably smelling like pee. Poor soul. But in fairness I was flying solo as L was on holiday. Well she’ll tell you she was away with work but she stayed in a hotel, ate hot food in a restaurant and drank alcohol with friends. That sounds awfully like a holiday to Me! She says she’s just getting me ready for when she jets off to Vegas next month with her bestie. Don’t worry I’m making a note of all of these trips and I’m sure by the end of the year I can cash it in for a month in the Maldives ALONE. I daydreamed about it in the bath. I closed my eyes while the big kids were in bed, and before the milk bandit strikes again but just as I was feeling a little bit relaxed I hear “Mummy I need a wee”.
After an eye roll and a few choice words muttered under my breath establishing if she really does need a wee as Mummy is in the Maldives I get up and take her to the toilet then get back in the bath while she sits on the toilet having a FAKE wee as she’s already had 3 wees before bed.
“Mummy why are your eyes closed?”
“I’m wishing I’m on a desert island alone right now”
“Why’s your bath big mummy”
“Because I’m big, now have you finished your wee?”
“I need 5 more minutes Mummy”
I give up! I just wanted 5 minutes of nothing….who am I kidding???

I can’t stop thinking about how lucky we have been with our little newborn with her being so content and relaxed it has made all of the heartache and struggles I’ve been feeling so much easier. Then we got to 4 weeks. Now we always have a little chuckle when people have just had a baby and they’re all excited still and there’s a million pictures on Facebook of how great they are all doing and how good their baby is and you know it gets to about 4 – 6 weeks and things change. The baby stops just feeding and sleeping and starts fussing and you have no idea why or how to stop the terrifying sound of a newborn shriek and you realise you’re still learning about what they like and what will soothe them. Well that’s where we have been but thankfully coming out the other side. It’s when the honeymoon period is over, the adrenalin has dried up and the tears are flowing…from all of us. The low point was when it took me 3 hours to settle the little one for bed one night. I’d feed her she’d settle then she’d poo so I’d change her she’d cry then feed then poo. This went on for hours. The last time I changed her she pee’d on my bed. L was asleep next to me so I couldn’t even change the sheet. To say I was pissed off was an understatement. So I got a towel to cover the wet bit and tried again to settle her. Then the screaming started again. It woke L and then we ended up having a row about what was wrong with the baby and I asked her to go to the spare room and leave us alone. I don’t see the point in us both being tired. Not just because L is like a bear with a sore head when she’s not had enough sleep but because she has to go to proper work tomorrow. Anyway she left then the baby cried and I cried. That was that. I’ve now purchased a dummy and hoping that helps with the 6-9pm witching hours. Obviously I stood for ages perusing the dummy aisle with heart wrenching guilt coming through my body that my baby shouldn’t have a dummy but I managed to stop the tears and have a word with myself. I’ll not be upset about it tonight when it keeps her calm and quiet while I’m catching up on Greys Anatomy!

It’s ok to not be ok. Supposedly.

It’s ok to not be ok. Supposedly.

I can only describe the last couple of weeks as a continuation of the longest rollercoaster of my life! I’m experiencing highs and lows literally every single day and if I wasn’t having to keep the fluids up for feeding the milk monster it would be to stop me from becoming dehydrated from all of the tears!

Finally the time came for catheter out day. As if the general birthing a child ensures you’ve lost all dignity and privacy for your body after people have prodded and poked around, put things in places you’d rather not; then carrying around a bag of your own waste fluid is just a continuation of this unwanted experience. The doctor pumped my bladder full of dye until it was full and I felt like it would explode then took a load of pictures of it to check that it wasn’t leaking. It wasn’t which meant I could have the catheter out and just had to pee a certain amount during a few hours. Totally nailed it and did a happy peeing dance to celebrate. Never been so relieved (literally) than I felt right then. Only problem was by being so fixated on the catheter coming out I hadn’t considered I’d still be feeling pretty shabby, both physically and emotionally, once it was gone so that added to my frustration and upset.

The following day we registered our teeny tiny human and made her all official. Funnily enough her name wasn’t on the list of the top 100 in the registry office but that didn’t surprise us as we went for something she will definitely have to spell out or clarify whenever she rings a call centre. Poor kid. The big girls were at nursery so we went for a lovely peaceful meal just the three of us to celebrate. You forget how easy eating out is with only one child in tow – hot food and everything!

We have also celebrated our anniversary. 1 year since we turned our civil partnership into a marriage and 11 years since the civil partnership. I can’t believe how quickly it’s gone since the big party in Windsor. We had agreed not to make a fuss since we have quite a bit going on with the arrival of the little one but L surprised me with my wedding flowers all over again with our first dance song “Shut up and Dance” playing. There were free flowing happy tears and that warm, fuzzy feeling at just how thoughtful she is. I felt loved. She’s got to love me to put up with me over the last few weeks I know it’s not been easy for her.

Next, to add to the ride, it was time for L to head back to work. This is it. This is me on my own with our three children. This is us having to begin our new normal. I felt ready for it. I mean the OCD in me was starting to get annoyed at how L was doing things round the house which is usually my territory. I mean she’s let G have potato waffles for breakfast most days with the giveaway sign of ketchup on her face and who knows how many chocolate biscuits the chaotic one has had. L wasn’t bothered though she said it was a clear sign I was getting better now I’m bossing her around again. Plus I made it to nursery only 5 minutes late with all the snow, three kids in tow and homemade costumes for world book day. Felt epic! Maybe it’s the Northern in me, or maybe it’s just the determination that I want to feel better and back to me, that I got a bit of fire in my belly.

So imagine the disappointment that the first week going solo the tears still kept coming. I found it hard for so many reasons. I was in pain manouvering through the day from lifting the kids into the car and going about my day to day tasks as well as coping with the tiredness, so it was no surprise when the health visitor asked me how I was coping and I became this blubbering mess of tears and ugly crying face. Now I don’t know what your experience is of a health visitor but I hear a lot of people grumbling about them and their faults but I guess I’ve been pretty lucky with mine as they’ve always been fairly helpful.

I’ve only had one awkward moment with our first health visitor who discretely shuffled the ‘contraception after a baby’ leaflet out of her welcome pack she was about to give me. Yes I’m not sure I’m going to need that love! So this time round and I’m a mess expecting her to be all judgy and critical at my ability to be a good mum and her advice was “you’ve had a baby. Go easy on yourself. It’s ok to feel like this.” Phew! It was like the fog had lifted a little bit. Maybe it was ok. Maybe I’m not completely crazy. My friend told me it’s ok to not be ok. Maybe she is right. Still keep trying to tell myself that and remind myself I’m trying to get over a hugely traumatic birth, whilst juggling life with three children and not to mention the physical healing which is still not where I want it to be. My stomach for instance is a mess. I’d expect it to start resembling some sort of normal by now, maybe a little podgier, but it is still really abnormal, hugely swollen and painful in many areas – probably about 5 months pregnant looking. Trying to be patient but it’s not really my thing.

I have been living in this weird blur for the last few weeks. I’ve even gone through some of my pictures and texts and can barely remember them happening or as if it was from another time. It’s weird and surreal but my control freak nature hates it plus I feel like I’m not getting to enjoy the best bits like I would want to. Also with this emotional side of things my ability to interact with many humans, be them friends or strangers, is becoming affected. When people tell me I look great or that I’m doing so well I feel like an absolute fraud as inside I’m hurting. When people ask me how I am my response is the usual “I’m good” or “I’m ok” but really I’m not but I won’t tell you because I want to be these things I’m just not there yet and that’s ok. Supposedly. I don’t quite feel up to big groups and I certainly am out of my comfort zone with strangers. Strangers are the worst. They see you with a fresh baby and feel its essential to impart their tales about their uterus, vagina or c-section during birth when I don’t even know their name. I can’t be held responsible for my actions if this happens again; my smiling politely has ran out.

So trying to take one day at a time and be kinder to myself lowering my expectations and slowing things down. I know I’ll get there and there will be less tears and more smiles just don’t know when.