Heavy heart

The last few days have been emotionally draining. My other half said goodbye to a friend and our hearts are heavy. There’s a space in the world that is empty now because of his passing. The memories don’t fill the shoes, don’t keep his side of the bed warm for his wife or wrap their arms around his son. Memories will help when time passes, but for now they don’t stop the pain our friends feel. 

The comfort that exists when grief is shared is something that should never be forgotten. But my heart is heavy, the candle will shine, and I will try to love every opportunity I’m sent.

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Something Magical this way comesĀ 

I’ve been using this blog all wrong, I’ve been trying to write to an audience, believing that people will be reading. That changes what I say and how I say it. It brings a fear of judgement and retaliation to my writing, which means I’m never honest with myself. That needs to change.

This is my blog. It needs to be written from my heart. I need to be honest with myself if I ever expect to be believed. This is my space to find a place for my thoughts and feelings. If they’re not liked it’s ok, because without putting them out there I can’t grow and expand. If I quash them then they’ll never evolve. 

Last week I felt like I needed a friend on my text list who didn’t exist. Someone who was in my contacts that I could message without worrying about what they’d think or feel about what I was saying. Someone who would listen but not take on my words. Understand without judgement because they’re not real, they’re not there, they would never answer so I wouldn’t have to ignore their advice. 

I get so fed up of hearing myself moan in my own ears that I bore myself with the sea of negativity. I know I should snap out of it, I know I’m lucky beyond belief, I know beauty and happiness but I still fall foul of the droning moaning. That’s why I’d like a friend that doesn’t exist. If I could bug them with the things that aren’t really problems maybe I could let them go much quicker and with ease. There’s no maybe, I know I would. 

I thought about typing in a random number and sending them the messages, but somehow I think the poor unsuspecting person on the receiving end just wouldn’t appreciate the offloading!!! In fact I’m sure it’s a good way to becoming labelled as officially insane. 

That’s why I wanted to change the way I use my blog. I’d like my fingers and thoughts to be fluid, one enabling the other whilst the words find their way into the universe. A place to organise thoughts and reflect on feelings so that I can achieve my goals.

My life has changed so much recently, but then when I look back this isn’t something new. Change is what I need, every decision I have ever made in my life has been to implement change. I’m an evolver, I like to grow, I like to become a better person inside and out, so I’m constantly making changes in my life to move me forward. 

Inevitably some of the choices have been the wrong ones, and it’s taken me longer than it ever should have to change those mistakes. I thought if a choice was made then you should honour the path it leads you on. Now I’ve learned that paths lead backwards as well as forward, some even have smaller routes leading off from the side. No choice has to leave you buried in concrete. There is always room for adapting your choice, and if it’s really necessary the choice can be changed. It’s happiness that matters more.

Life is a short lived and fragile blessing given to us. We have to be the best we can in a way that enables us to experience the joy of life to its fullest. 

Seeing my family and friends smile, hearing their laughter, reaching goals and creating dreams. It’s all a magical experience that should never be taken for granted or underestimated. 

It’s my ability to see life in this way that has probably been the biggest change in my life recently. I’ve always loved being around my family and friends and I’m conscientious to the detriment of myself, but I’d never taken the time to appreciate the nuance of it all. 

It’s not just hearing the soothing sound of the ocean, the comfort of soft grass under your feet, the beauty of birdsong, the magic of laughter or the instant charge of energy sunlight gives when it warms your skin. It’s about letting it permeate to what’s within, absorbing the gifts and remembering we are creatures of this planet. We can harmonise ourselves to this world instead of fighting to become a dominator of life and a barcode.

What excites me is I have so much change ahead. Changes that I can control and invite into my life. I have so much to learn, so much to give to those around me and so much life waiting to be loved. 

The people who you surround yourself with are so important. 

Cherishing moments and seeing them for their potential is a magic that we sometimes forget.

Learning to love with abandonment is a gift that keeps on giving. 

Being yourself is a journey that never ends.

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Days like this are made for sofas

Summer hasn’t quite faded away, I don’t need to pull out the woolly jumpers or fluffy socks, but there’s a gloom in the air that says change is on its way.

There’s a snail making its way across the window, perhaps he wanted to see what we thought about the rain. The dog thinks he can catch the snail, even though he’s on the other side of the window. No matter how many times he scrabbles at the glass without success he’s still not understanding he’s on the wrong side.

The lights were on to banish the grey but I refuse to keep them on all day. So there’s only one thing for it. 

The sofa.

With a head filled with a longing to be back in The Land of Dreams and a toddler who is enjoying his quite time the sofa has become my hero. 

Slush on TV, blanket wrapping us up, I plan to stay here for as long as the world will let me.

There’s a beauty in the gentle rain that steadily falls, a calm I’m happy to embrace. 

Happy sofa day. 

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All hail the glory of the booby juice

Here it is, my one time rant about breastfeeding.

As a breastfeeding mum I try really hard not to preach or judge. I’m a health care professional too, or was in a previous life, so not only do I know what should be done I’ve also seen the harsh reality of how today in our crazy world, it’s not always easy to do.

I don’t want to be the breastfeeding gestapo,  women everywhere get super defensive and say that they tried and couldn’t. I want to say that there are more than a handful of times where I thought I couldn’t too, but nature found a way.

That’s the crux of it for me, it’s natural.  Boobs were made for a purpose,  and despite what everyone may think, it wasn’t to attract men. In a primeval way perhaps huge mammaries were a flashing beacon to our potential suitors, ‘look at how well this one will nourish our offspring’. The attraction could be a bit Freudian too, reminiscent of the days snuggled up in our mothers bosom. Probably not,  it’s more likely a flashback to the days of page 3 girls, a bit of eye candy and a sense if naughtiness that was acceptable to schoolboy and dad alike. Boobs are there to be ogled.

Luckily I was never given a pair to write home about.  These bad boys have always been a strictly functional duo. Now I’m a fully fledged woman, with certified evidence I can see the merit in being flat chested. I can run, there’s no constant back ache, no grooves in my shoulders from bra straps. In fact I save a fortune in not needed to wear a bra at all. I am blessed.

It didn’t feel like that when I was growing up, the nervous teenager on the school bus with the unfortunate short hair. “Is that a girl or a boy?” as laughter followed me to my seat. I thought that a pair of decent knockers would have shut them all up instantly,  but thankfully I was too scared of a general anaesthetic to ever have implants done.

My breasts are amazing. The best thing in the world. Well at least to my son they are. So much so that 2 years down the line they’re impossible for him to give up. There have been so many times when I’ve thought thank goodness I’m feeding him, and probably in equal measure I’ve wondered just how long this torture will last.


It’s not all amazing cuddles and beautiful eye contact.  The first few months of feeding are almost hellish, am I doing it right? Is he getting enough milk? Is it fair on the rest of the family that I’m a sofa hostage? How long can I do this for?

And when you just start to think you’ve cracked it the baby decides to have a growth spurt,  or gets a cold, or starts teething.

My cherub is 2 years and 3 months old now. He hasn’t slept through the night ever and can still feed up to four or five times a night, plus the snuggles he demands in the day. I work from home now and he knows that jumping on the boob is a good way to keep him still and quiet. If the phone rings he’ll hop on, if I’m inputting the accounts he’s right there under my top and hanging off a nipple before I even realise what’s going on.

Sometimes it makes me laugh,  sometimes it makes me cry. I’d like to sleep a whole night without being mauled, I’d like to wear a dress that doesn’t require open access. I’d like to not be judged by people who haven’t ever been in my position.

I’m so grateful to the booby juice, on more than one occasion it’s been not only a life giver, but a saver too.

My son was admitted to hospital recently with pneumonia, his right lung was two thirds congested, blocking air intake. If we didn’t have the booby juice things would have been so much worse. Unimaginably so.

I was asked by a nurse if I feed at night, and when I replied yes she told me that might have been how the pneumonia developed.

I dismissed what she said instantly, it’s not the first time a health care professional has suggested that breastfeeding is now detrimental for my son’s health. Last year I was told the reason my son has a cracked tooth is because I breastfeed. Unsupported nonsense. There’s no evidence to support their opinions,  yet the damage they cause is huge. Thanks for the support,  the well done for getting this far, the if only everyone could give that to their children.

The way I see it, they grow up so fast. Blink and you miss it, my two teenagers are a testament to that. If I can’t be a little selfless now, give my baby what he needs for just a few years, then what’s the point?  I look at my whirlwind of a toddler and think ‘wow, I grew him, start to finish, inside and out’.

Of course I wish we weren’t so attached at the umbilical cord still. I missed out on going to the theatre with my ma a few weeks ago, and my yoga is a non happening event, but there’s years ahead for that. There’s only now for my little man.

If I need to feed him when we’re out and about I will, if he’s thirsty why is it wrong to offer him a natural substance that’s made to order for his needs? Why do we need a sticker on a door to declare that breastfeeding is welcome there? Why is it more natural for us to accept milk from the teat of an animal with four legs than it is to feed our own offspring? It makes me feel like our world is broken, possibly too much to ever fix.

So to all of those women, and men, out there that say the breastfeeding gestapo are at it again,  think again. Breastfeeding is a minority,  it’s seen as unnatural and frowned upon even by health professionals.  It’s the most isolating experience I’ve ever had.

It’s also the most rewarding thing I have ever had the pleasure of doing. I alone am responsible for the leaps and bounds. I did that. I grew him good.


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25.01.2016- “so you are alone in Kerala just roaming around?!’

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Tree shaped dreams

I’ve been trying to change our carbon footprint for a few years now.  It probably is a little late in my life, I admit. I’ve always recycled and not left the tap running whilst brushing my teeth, as well as absolutely annoying the pants off everyone else in the house by turning off the plugs instead of leaving things on standby. Deep down I know there’s more I could do,  and definitely more I should do.

I decided to see what my carbon footprint actually was so that I’d have a ball park figure of how much off setting I’d need to do in order to become carbon neutral.  A quick search saw me happily answering questions on the WWF site, and I have to admit I was quietly confident that my big size 8s wouldn’t be too large in worldly impact.  I’m a vegan,  the rest of the household are conscientious vegetarians, we source ethical clothing,  have insulated the house, recycle, and use public transport when available.

Apparently that’s not good enough and my carbon footprint is well into the red zone! I’m devastated!  How can the British government cut back on renewable energy sources and grants when that’s one of the UK’s major shortfalls?

I’ve been looking to switch to a green energy provider,  but I find it a jumble of confusion. I want to know that the energy they provide is truly green, where it comes from and that I’m helping to secure the future of green provision for the next generation.  I can’t find this information on their websites,  in fact sometimes green gas isn’t green at all. It’s a higher tarrif for caring,  but not actually helping! Why haven’t we implemented a policy that all new buildings are fitted with solar panels? That’s another letter in the pipeline to my MP,  I look forward to the generic fob off response.

In my dirty great red footprint shame I searched for ways to offset the carbon, lifestyle changes are fab but take time to filter through so I wanted a quick fix. That’s when I found the Woodland Trust offering a scheme. Pay them pennies per tonne of Carbon emitted and they’ll plant trees in your name. I like this. A lot.

Then I thought,  why do I have to pay a middle man to plant trees, why can’t I just do it myself?

Every piece of land in the UK is owned. It’s a sad but necessary fact. I can’t just find a piece of earth that looks tree needy and let the roots nestle in. I need my own dirt just so that I can help the world breath again.

So be it, if that’s what it takes then maybe that will be my life’s mission.  My way to shine amongst the stars. Sounds like the perfect Kickstarter project to me!

Please let me know if you have any ideas on how to plant more trees.

Time to email the school and let them know how disappointed I am that one of their teachers has inferred that vegetarian diets are unnatural. Time to spread the love for Cowspiracy!

Searching for the answer

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