For the first time in 16 years!

I have an ongoing battle with my weight. It’s a dull story, I’ve had children, stopped work to be a stay at home mom for my youngest and gained a lot of weight!! It’s a combination of being sedentary, being insane and eating all of the toddler rejections. In my efforts to prove to him how lovely food is I’ve done nothing but gain hips to perch him on.

So enough is enough. No more prosecco, no more chicken nuggets and no more lounge days.

He’s only just started nursery and settled well which has freed up that legendary ‘me’ time. I started running only to discover I’m too heavy to run at the pace I want without causing myself injury. I do yoga every morning, but if I don’t get the timing right my little man feels hard done by and destroys the yogic dream, but I keep trying. I went for a bike ride and rode through glass destroying the front tyre of my ma’s bike. I’ve stopped alcohol as I know that’s my biggest calorie intake. The universe absolutely knows I’m a tryer if nothing else! 

The day before yesterday I dropped him off to nursery, dashed up the hill to prove I was allowed to register with a doctor, piled money on the gas and electric, stocked up on bread and milk and then decided it was time to take the plunge.

I battled through the icy rain, I forced my way through the wind and I dived into that pool.

I was swamped with emotion. 

The pool was deliciously warm, an unexpected bonus as I had braced myself to be shivering from point of entry to full submersion. Apparently the management keep forgetting to turn the thermostat down before leaving the building at night. I have a theory about that but you’ll have to ask me later!

Anyway, I actually felt like I was treating myself, a blissful sanctuary that not only meant I was helping myself to get fitter, but was also enjoyable despite the clenched teeth during the £5.20 entrance fee payment.

I swam the first length with a smile on my face, gracefully breast stroking to the deep end wallowing in my own glory. So much so that the lifeguard noticed my joy and asked how I was.

“I am fabulous, this is the first time I’ve been swimming on my own in 16 years, and it feels like a real treat!”

I didn’t realise how loudly I’d pronounced my declaration until I heard a chorus of ‘wow’s around me.

I swam and swam and swam. I wanted to swim until I’d outswam every swimmer in that pool. This was my freedom, this was my exercise, this was my way of shrugging off that dressing gown and telling the world I was back.

I am no longer a stay at home mom. I am a company secretary, working from home, successful small business owner, who looks after her busy household and maintains a complex and diverse schedule!

I was swimming.

It was no Cotton Tree. 

There were no parrots in the trees. There was no sand. There were no waves crashing at the ocean shore, there was no sun warming my bones, there was no laughter filling my soul, but there was me. Doing something for me. That I will one day take back to Cotton Tree.

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Give yourself a pat on the back!

To all you step parents out there, well done. It’s not easy, from any side of the barrier. Being a step child can leave you feeling lacking, wrong or in the way. Being the adult who steps in to carry the weight can be impossible. An unthankable roll that at the best of times brings peace, but never the unconditional love that being a biological parent offers. It must be like trying to be a UN negotiator in the middle of a war zone. No matter what you say or do someone will fire an angry, resentful look your way.

Thanks for trying. The fact you were there, are there, at all means more than the parents who walked away.

To the parent that has found new love in their life, of course you deserve it. No body wanted a broken home or a glued together family, but no one invites any tragedy into their lives. What you are doing or have done is making the best out of life. Moving forward and teaching your children that any situation can be overcome. That we all can have a second chance, another shot at the happy hour. By teaching your children love you teach them happiness. Security is priceless, and if that comes from another person stepping in, well let’s go for it.

It doesn’t stop there.

To all the parents who showed up for work this morning, give yourselves a cheer. The ones who smile even though they’re tired. The coffee in one hand and snotty tissue in the other. The half eaten cereal and peppa pig crazed demands. The endless cycle of tasks that haunt you on a daily basis only to be rewarded with I want more and why. Take a step back to see how amazing you are and how much you make each and every day special. You are the most important person in someone’s life.

No matter who we are we touch someone. We may not know it, but someone somewhere looks forward to seeing you. A confirmation that all is right in the world. Together we intertwine to make things magical. Pat yourself on the back. Without you there would be a huge gaping hole in the universe. 

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Australia

Remind me to tell you all about my most favourite place in the world.

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When your best isn’t good enough

It’s one of those days, again. To be fair I’ve not had too many of them recently, but it’s enough to make me sad.

And that’s the real problem right there. It’s not one of those days, it’s me, I’m feeling glum and low and sad. So everything seems and feels wrong. The little doubts that niggled in the weeks past have queued patiently at the door, waiting for this very moment. Now they know I’m sad they’ll keep knocking until I let them in.

Now I’m not just a little bit low or sad, I’m lazy too. That’s why the housework always needs doing, because I don’t work hard enough. That’s why there’s always office work to do, because I’m not organised enough. That’s why I don’t know where anything is, because I don’t deal with things immediately. That’s why I injured myself running, because I’m over weight. That’s why my little man won’t sleep through the night, because he’s bored during the day. Understimulated. Underfed. Not shown enough positive attention. Not nurtured enough. Not valued enough. You name it I’m sure I’ve felt like that type of parent.

I know it’s all self torture. So tomorrow I’ll wake up better, I’ll do more, try harder, smile more, maybe laugh a little, clean the oven, scrub in those corners, dust the cobwebs, hold my head high and put those demons back in chains where they belong.

Hopefully.

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There’s something kinda yogaish going on!

This evening I have found the benefit of being kept awake for the early hours of the morning. Of plodding on with my busy day and pushing myself further than I have for what has probably been more than a decade. My wildchild has fallen asleep at a peaceful hour.

My teenagers are exhausted from having to engage their brains again after what has been a long summer and my man is at  his guitar lesson that should be 45 mins but turned into beers and gossip last week. 

That means only one thing. Out comes my yoga mat. My beloved peace and tranquility. When I sit there, calmly for just one minute something inside me changes. The switch is thrown and I can just be. 

My mat is a place of magic, where my strength, balance and emotions are tested. As a beginner I can’t believe the impact that it’s had on my life. 

I’ve found unexpected friendships with kindred spirits. I’ve challenged myself to become a better person. I’ve found a way to listen to myself and my own desires. I’ve found a way to listen to others. I’ve found a way to accept who I am and cherish the world around me. 

My mat is a place of powerful magic. Those that stand near me on their own mats carry an even greater magic. 

One day I can hope to be as good as they are.

Thank you for giving me the magic yoga. 

Thank you for being the one to show me Sarah

I can’t wait to be with my sister so we can practice together!!!!

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Missing my sister…

My amazing sister is having an adventure of a lifetime, and I miss her like crazy.

Today she’s been on my mind a lot. I thought of her in yoga, I found her in my heart. I thought of her as I listened to music on her speaker scrubbing the house from top to bottom. I thought of her whilst I was cooking and I thought of her when I sat down to relax with the intention of sending her a message to let her know.

She’d beaten me to it, she’d sent us a message.


That’s her, in Cambodia, teaching English to children.

How amazing. Such an adventure. I’m so proud of her courage and her sense of adventure. 
I absolutely cannot wait to see you at Christmas sis, it finally seems like it’s not far away! 

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The beauty of the written word.

I’m in much anticipation of my next delivery of recycled elephant poo paper from the exotic paper company! 

I have a story to tell my co dreamer.

Thank you letters for the school and staff that enabled my proud mother status.

Proud mother status to be embellished.

Reminders to family that I do care.

Special love to give to my Ma.

Friends overseas to annoy with tangible words.

Therapy, swirling inky word hand achey therapy.

My words are written with love, thought, feeling and passion. I mean what I say and I hope you all feel it.
Yay, paper is on its way!!!!!!

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