February is going better than expected, having lost 7lbs to date (bearing in mind I still eat a reasonable amount of crap), I've indulged in some DAMN HAWT underwear (no nursing bras!! OMG), which appear to be colourful and have a surprising amount of lace on them, my wardrobe has been emptied of nursing tops (although Isaac and I are still feeding - 10 months! Fuck yeah) and I recently purchased a pair of rather purtiful boots.

It's all quietly chuntering away, but I'm damn well pleased with myself that I've now completed two months.

So what's in store for March?

Well. It's a curious one, but something that seems to be happening a bit already so thought I'd make more of it.

March YOR, is to go out and meet more people. Not just people I already know, but more NEW people. People I've never met. Granted most of these people will probably be ones I know as a result of Twitter, but nonetheless, I've met some lately and had a great time. There are others I'm desperate to meet for the first time, some I've met and really want to see again...and I don't think there are any I've met and never want to see again. Heh.

There are major advantages to this particular YOR; Noah starts nursery in a few weeks, which will leave me with more travel time on my hands. I look forward to spending more time with Isaac, and he's a great traveller so he'll come with me if need be and it's appropriate. Evening jaunts, obviously, will be just me! I've really started to enjoy the time that's being given back to me lately; my trip down to Dawlish, Devon last weekend was fucking awesome, and I'm already looking into when I might be able to go again.

Then of course there's BlogHer 10 in August omfg NYC BAYBEE. When I finally pull my finger out, I need to get to making a list of people I want to meet. Cos OMFG NYC BAYBEE.

I'm not entirely sure how to go about meeting up with mew peeps though; many work in the day, obviously (and, it turns out, I have children), and it can sound a bit stalker-ish when I say to people "we need to meet up and have beer one evening", because I know that in their head, they're finishing that sentence with "so that I can follow you home, camp outside your house and most likely burn your bunny/goldfish/children".

This is NOT the case.

Promise.

Heh.

So! If you're up for meeting up, please do let me know. Although this is listed as March Year of Resolutions, of course it will carry on for the rest of the year providing it's successful...

Fancy meeting up?

Today, it all kicked off in the Blogosphere. Apparently, to have a good blog, we're supposed to write what we like, but make sure it complies with what people like; we're meant to be ourselves, but aspire to be someone else; we should be interesting, but real; we should include lots of links to others, but write about ourselves.

And if you want to be a "Top Blogger", you have to do all of the above and much, MUCH more.

Which is why, this post will be utterly shit, because I? Will not conform to any Rules of Blogging. Which makes me a good blogger. Nyer.

What I WILL do, is blog the following.

Today, my arse appeared in #assmail on Boob Emancipation. Given that I have now discovered I can take a pic of my own arse in the shower, I am proud as FUCK.

I have a fixation for boobs. I am not lesbian. But I DO think boobs should be celebrated. As should many asses.

Today, Noah barfed up his breakfast at the table, then started listening to said table. Like, head down, ear pressed, smiling at the table. And dancing slightly.

Whilst Noah was doing the above, Isaac was laughing hysterically at his thumb, whilst eating his breakfast.

Shortly after, Noah ralphed all down his front and on the floor. Whilst cleaning this up, Isaac crawled over and puked on my feet. Whilst cleaning all this up, he went to go bang his head on the corner of the table.

I often do not care what people think. About my blog, or me, or whatever. Sometimes I'm sorry, but often I'm not. And that's how my shit rolls.

I love comments. Good and bad. However I do not live or blog for comments. But I ALWAYS appreciate comments. I will not fall apart if there are no comments. But I might consider kicking some ass. I might not always RESPOND to comments, because of course, I am shit, but still. Always nice to have them, even if they make you look like a fucktard. Because I can look back and say "Oh, hi Fucktard!" Or I can look back and say "Cock. You're all being nice and I dunno what to say. Um, thanks."

I love smut. Throw in a cock, and I'm happy.

I regularly like to exclaim "cock" on twitter. It makes me feel better, and smile. It makes me feel even better when people say/shout "cock" at me. That makes my day.

In keeping with February YOR, today I managed to complete Day 6 of the 30 Day Shred. I can get to circuit 3 without screaming, I no longer crawl up the stairs, a pair of my trousers are a teeny bit loose, my boobs are shrinking but so is my belly, and hotness will soon be mine.

January YOR is well under way, and holy fuck, it might even be live by the end of this month. The number of photographers on twitter is making me SHIT myself. Which reminds me, one of my fave photographers who is also a good friend, was featured in Photo Pro Magazine this month. And by featured, I mean OMFG 5 PAGE SPREAD WTF AWESOMENESS. Added bonus? Well. You had all better recognise that baby and squooshy mouth, or I shall hunt you down and yell at you a lot.

That is all.

And now? Please to look at pictures, in the hope of making distracting you from my crap blog with AHWW!!!! LOOK AT TEH CUUUUUUTE!

Yes I know. You totally forgot what you were going to say, right?

Allow me to distract you some more.

IN. DEED.

This is how we roll.

This is how I am spending my evening.

This is how I'll be spending tomorrow evening.

(Seriously. DVD ordered and everything. Jillian will have a great time whooping my wobbly ass into shape.)

My theory is, screw the fact that I'm carrying extra poundage, but let's at least make an effort to make it look like attractive poundage. I'm bored of having my belly rest on my crotch when I sit down.

In keeping with January's YOR, I'm still posting a pic a day on flickr. It's...a little unsettling, taking a pic of myself every day and staring at it trying to decide if I like it. Which of course, I don't, because I have a spotty chin, my eyebrows are fucked, and I often look stoned. Or, as someone else pointed out, worried.

Rabbit in headlights springs to mind.

But hey, it means I get my camera out. In last night's shoot I got my boobs out. But no, they don't make an appearance, because you know, I'm trying to keep it tasteful.

This will not last long.

I've also booked me a ticket to a photography show at the NEC, which is really surreal, especially as I booked myself as a photographer.

As in -

Name: Me

Address: Here

Occupation: Photographer (wtf?)

Company: Jay Mountford Photography (say what now?)

(I'm STILL working on my site. WordPress opens a can of Whoop-Ass on me every time I look at it.)

Unfortunately, I am not Hot (February YOR). What I am, is full of cold. So much FOF, I may have dribbled a little snot on Isaac's leg, and in Noah's hair today. You know when it's just so watery, and you don't move quick enough to catch it? It's kind of like that. I hate that. It's messy. So I kind of end up sitting around with a tissue wedged up my nose.

...hmm.

On reflection, that's definitely not hot.

BUT. I have managed to wear fucking sexy bras and various thongs/French knickers for the last week-ish. Which of course has leaded to no action at all, because all I want to do is sleep. But you know, there's been plenty of heavy breathing and stuff.

...while I sleep.

That's not to say, D does stuff to me while I sleep.

Because he doesn't.

...I think.

Look, you know what I mean.

Maybe I should just start working on March YOR, and let Jillian get on with a little ass-whoopin'. That's hot, right?

My latest Photography Phun is "A Month of Me", whereby I take a self portrait every day for the month of February. I was inspired by a sexy-ass twitter buddy, who is doing 365, which is FAR more inspiring, and I'd jump on that bandwagon if I wasn't 31 days too late.

Anyway! Unfortunately after having removed most bodily fluids from every possible orifice, the second picture looks remarkably shit (there was no way I was going to smile), but still, I'm determined to keep going. Especially if it means I have to take at least one pic every day.

So what's on the cards for February YOR? It's a doozy. Absolute GENIUS.

For February?

YOR?

My resolution, is...

to be...

more...

...hot.

Like, HOT.

Like, HAWT. And not hot as in wear more jumpers and sweat excessively every day.

No, no, no.

Ok, let's break this down. Every year, someone out there makes the resolution to lose weight/be more healthy/improve their figure blah blah blah.

I? Cannot be arsed with diets. I do not diet. The end. I may exercise on occasion. Which is often followed by a large meal. And sometimes chocolate. And maybe alcohol. This isn't to say that I'm going to give up the good stuff, because I'm not. I'm not even going to set myself up for that because it would be a sheer miracle if I lasted a week.

And so, I plan to learn to love what I am on the outside, in the small hope that I can enjoy the inside a little more. Which means that there may be a few more subtle changes in the things I blog. Things that are sex related (omfg she just said s-e-x in her blog no fucking way she's a w-h-o-r-e), things that are pervy (omg did she just say perve, she's gonna hit on all of us) and hopefully things that reflect a lot more confidence, especially in my physical self (oh see now she just turned into a cocky shit).

I know this sounds like a really, REALLY stupid resolution. In fact, it is. I don't deny that. At. All. Like, how the fuck can a person be hot? I have no idea. But what I DO know is that I've really let myself go over the last two years. My excuse? Being a mom. I've lived in craptastic nursing bras and nursing tops for two years, the average colour of my knicker collection is black, the majority of them are big enough to cover most of Scotland (with no lace in sight), my face is often "can you tell I just got out of bed" and more often than not, it's a good week if I have more than three showers.

True story.

My sex life sucks, and needs a serious revamp. Which I am (we are) already working on, and I'm expecting not only to actually have sex, but indulge in places outside of the bedroom. Which would be lovely, especially as Isaac STILL lives in our room (would someone please just hurry up and buy our fucking house already?). And also? Positions. And outfits. And toys.

To be honest, I feel really bad, since I lost all sex drive after having Noah. An 11lb baby will do that to you. Add another 11lb baby less than two years later, and you're pretty much fucked.

Or...uh, not.

I need to make sure I look good, to help me FEEL good. I may not look hot, and I won't appeal to all, but as long as I appeal to the right people (me, hubs, friends, random hot people), then that's all I give a shit about.

Oh, and sorry, but the colourful language is here to stay.

Bitches.