Showing posts with label actual happy times. Show all posts
Showing posts with label actual happy times. Show all posts
An Explosive Silence
@cosmicgirlie
Something...REALLY amazing happened today.

Actually, SEVERAL amazing things happened today, and I'm hoping my instincts and all don't screw me over in the next 24 - 48 hours.

A few days ago, I felt like I had no choice but to post "Conversations". I hear a Voice, The Voice, in my head, pretty much all the time. 24/7/365. I've heard it since I can ever remember; I became aware of it around the age of 13 or 14, and it took on a whole new strength when I was around 19 when my depression hit level 10 on the Richter Scale.

For a long time I wondered if I was schizophrenic; I had no desire to think these things, so it couldn't possibly be my voice, right? Why would I do that to myself? I argue with it daily and I'm constantly worn down by it; I have no way of changing it, but only to make it a little quieter some days. Those are good days.

Anyway, this Voice has plagued me for years, has pushed me to overdose on medication, has encouraged me to repeatedly try to take my own life, has destroyed much of the awesomeness I felt I could have become. It was the voice that convinced me to put my cello down, to never pick it up, to sell everything on eBay, and to not consider anything else. It was the voice who drove me to be the opposite of what I wanted to be.

So when I wrote Conversations, I had pretty much had enough. I was tired, it had been a difficult day, and the Voice had been plaguing me hard all day. What I wrote, was only a tiny snippet, and I didn't have the courage or strength to write the full force of what it says, or had been saying that day. Or even in that hour after D went to work.

But I had to get some of it out; I felt like my head might actually explode and melt and die, all at the same time.

And then people commented.

And it was surprising, because whilst I guess I knew people would comment, I was still cynical about what they would say. And then people responded more. Not just on my post in the comments, but on twitter too.

And then came more.

Then came blog posts. And I was so moved, so touched, so flattered. But I still couldn't see what was so special.

And then today, something...I don't even know. It felt like the impossible happened.

I suddenly had a flurry of emails, telling me I'd had maybe 10 new comments on that post alone, in a very short space of time. "What is this? Is someone spamming me? Why would they do that?"

And then I started reading the comments. And I was lost for words. I couldn't work out where they were coming from, and strangely enough, my first instinct was to thank whoever was sending these people to my blog. I checked Analytics, I checked feedjit, I tried not to panic. How could so many people I don't even know be so amazing all at the same time? It just doesn't happen. Why would they care? About me? How could they care about me?

And then, a lovely stranger by the name of @DaydreamFreak on twitter sent this out:

@cosmicgirlie If you want to thank someone thank @ItStartsWithUs for sending the email with a link to your blog post to the Love Bomb group.
It was out of the blue, but it lead me to find Nate St. Pierre, someone who, quite frankly, I wish I had met and spoken to years ago. He leads a group called It Starts With.Us, and my post was "subjected" to a Love Bomb.

Which is something that I think should happen to way, WAY MORE people.

It was amazing.

I'm very rarely moved. I'm very rarely fueled by other people's emotions.

But that post, of all the posts I've written over the last three years? I've never been so glad I wrote it. Not because it meant I got (at last count) 76 comments. I was already thrilled with the response before the Love Bomb.

No.

It was because of two things, both of which I'm almost scared to say out loud because I don't want it to end.

The first: I've reached people. I've helped people. In writing Conversations, I've (unknowingly) put my neck out to help others, to show others they're not alone. People have reciprocated so much that they've let me know I am not alone too. I urge you to read the post, and if you can relate in the slightest way? Then please, please, read the comments. Because I know they will help you too. And if they don't? Please write to me. Tell me. I want to help you.

The second: for the first time, in as long as I can ever remember, in maybe 8 years of making noise inside my head, and longer with me not knowing what it was...

Today?

The Voice?

Has been silent.

Right now, I'm crying. With happiness.

I don't care if it's back tomorrow, that's ok. I know there's hope. I know it's out there, somewhere.

So, thank you, all of you, every one of you who has contacted me in any way, for helping me find a moment of true peace.
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Today...
@cosmicgirlie
Today has been awesome.

Today has been fucking marvellous.

Today, Noah and I cooked carrot cake, thanks to a kiddies cook book from Cassie

Today I secured some more photo session bookings.

Today I did my first order of photos from my website, to check print quality, ready for first real orders.

Today I spent some awesome uninterrupted quality time with Isaac.

Today an owner of a house we viewed (and fell in love with) last week phoned to tell us she's coming off the market for a year and to get back in touch with her next year so she can sell to us.

Today I was reminded of who my friends are and how awesome they are.

Today I spent 2 hours on the phone to someone I'm going to meet for the first time on Sunday.

Today, I felt alive. It was pretty fucking good.
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Unchartered Territory
@cosmicgirlie
Something's happening. I'm not sure what it is, or how to deal with it. It's a good thing, trust me, a very good thing. A nice thing. But I don't know how to handle the situation.

If anything, she'd probably just tell me to go with the flow. She'd probably just say that it's ok. Don't stress about it. It's normal. People make good friends all the time. I know that. Of course I know that! Like, DUH, I know people make good friends.

I'll probably offend an awful lot of people with this post. People who thought they knew me. People who thought they understood me. People who tried to relate to me, to understand what it is about me. What makes me tick.

I pushed most of them away at the first sign of misunderstanding.

See, the thing is, there's just too much going on for me to have to explain myself. I can't explain who I am, what I am, in just a few short words. And sadly, that means an awful lot of people don't have the time for me as a friend. Sure people tolerate me, or hang around me occasionally. Maybe I misunderstand them, maybe they misunderstand me.

In fact, I know I'm misunderstood. I suspect many people think I'd rather just get on with things by myself. Deal with my own problems in my own time. Not want to share problems with others for feedback, or advice, or just to generally sound off.

Wrong.

And that's a shame.

Because often, the above is the exact opposite. I need to sound off all the time. Just one reason I started this blog. I can deal with stuff, but not always on my own. It gets too much. I need to share problems. All the time. But I need to be heard. I don't always want you to keep interrupting me with your experiences. I don't want to finally open up to you, only to have you talk over me and me not even finish what I was saying. Sometimes? It is all about me.

To the very few who DO offer me their ear, GENUINELY, I don't always take it. I have my reasons. Usually because I know they couldn't relate, or I just don't really know how to talk about it, or they're not right for me at that time...but I always appreciate the offer. Always. And I hope they know that. I'm sure they know that. I hope that even though I almost always decline to talk to them, they don't ever stop offering, because sometimes that in itself, is enough.

Am I too fussy in picking friends? Am I foolish for not letting potential friends get too close? I haven't had a good friend since I left high school. There have been people come and go since then. There are people who I let get close, too close, and then pushed them away because they hurt me.

I don't seem the vulnerable sort, do I? Yeah that's me, tough exterior, maybe a little soft on the inside, just gets on with it, takes no bullshit, and takes most other stuff on the chin.

There are people who are discovering that's not the case, all the time.

There are some people who ARE lovely. Beyond belief. And I want to spend more time with them. Different reasons make it difficult. Or, different circumstances mean we're not in the same place, which is fine. They're still so very lovely. They know who they are. They know I'll always be there for them, no matter what. They know I'll always smile when they get in touch. They may not think it's them that I'm talking about, but that's ok. They still make me smile.

However.

She's lovely. She's the sort of person I wish I'd known a long time ago. She understands way too much. I nod my head vigorously in agreement with every email she sends. She makes me laugh. A lot. To the point where I have to tweet her just to tell her she made me laugh. I'm jealous of her talents, even though it's in areas in which I hold very little desire to excel.

I've had lots of friends. I've had some good friends, and still do. I currently have one or two great friends, who I always have time for. But it's been some time since I had a best friend, who just, well, knows.

Just let it flow, right? Don't push her away? Don't get hung up? Don't get weirded out? This post probably sounds like I've found a new love of my life (I stress I'm happily married, and not a lesbian. And of course there's nothing wrong with lesbians. *snort*), but seriously, I get nervous when someone seems a bit...perfect? Good for me?

Is it wrong that I'm kind of waiting to find some major flaw that makes me revert to my usual rant of "see? Let someone get too close? They will fuck you over. And you'll be back to square one. And be full of regret. And you'll learn your lesson. And they never took you seriously in the first place. And didn't you know they were just humouring you? And of course, they were only so nice to you just to make themselves look good. And they never took you seriously. And you're a fool. And also? DUH."

Continue downward spiral of ridiculous thinking.

I hate this way of thinking. I don't want to freak her out. I don't want to push her away. I don't even want her to be freaked out by this post. I just hope she understands that I don't cope so well with people ALWAYS being there for me. Even through their own shit. Even when they are at the end of their own tether.

I don't know where this post is going. What I do know, is that I'm apprehensive. I know she fully understands why. I know she has so many other friends who help and support her immensely, and she does the same for them in return. So I'm apprehensive because I don't want to get hurt again, by someone I consider important to me. I suppose I just count myself incredibly lucky, despite my cynicism, that she counts me as one of those friends.

And I know that, even though I don't understand this now, that this really is unchartered territory for me, and I'm not just chilling out and enjoying the situation (Situation? It's not even that. I don't know what else to call it...normal-ness?), I'll look back and count myself as incredibly damn lucky to have been in this situation. To have known her, and have her give time and have patience for me.

I hope she knows that.
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Fings What Ave Made Me Smile Dis Week
@cosmicgirlie
(Because whilst Jillian Michaels kicks my ass, she also seems to be pummeling my brain)

I can't stand opera. After watching this? I LOVE IT.


I can't even decide which song is my fave, I'm ususally in hysterics by the end of Snoop Dogg.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Given my (slight) addiction to yelling the word "cock" when things go wrong (or, any time I tweet/open my mouth), a lovely friend on Twitter informed me of this.


I may be immature, but I swear to God, I CAN NOT stop laughing every time I look at this!!

*snigger*

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Some lovely links on other people's blogs; that's always incredibly flattering. Especially when it's about my appearance (which I'm always wary of) from Mary Ruth, or recommendations to see what I'm up to from Tara Cain.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

I have no idea why, but this ALWAYS makes me laugh. It's not even funny.
But it's SO. FUNNY.

(Click to make it big)


_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Satan's Thong. Omg, you...you just have to go look.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

This kid, despite driving me batshit on somedays, has been a real dude. He LOVES playing with this.



And on the subject of His Royal Dudeness, we received our letter asking if we would like to accept a place for him at the nearby private school. He starts First School in like, a month and a half.

I wouldn't normally be happy (because I'd be too busy being terrified) but then I saw the school uniform for September, and almost died from teh cuuuute!!


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Star-Struck Dumb-Struck Boob-Struck Wtf?
@cosmicgirlie
So yes, I met Gordon Ramsay last weekend. I've had an un-dying fixation with him for some time, and going to his book signing at the BBC Good Food Show made me a rather happy lady. Cos you know, HOTNESS.

I decided that the greatest moment came when, whilst waiting in the queue, I realised that my boobs had grown significantly throughout the day; we obviously didn't have Noah or Isaac with us, so I was sporting some fucking awesome cleavage. Seriously? Nursing? AWESOME.

My turn finally came, and as some dude took the two books off me to be signed, I thrust everything else (camera) at D, double checked the boobs, threw myself across the counter to shake his hand and kiss him, then realised I was sporting some fantastic pit-sweat patches.



Life had reached an all time high.

He asked me some questions. Unfortunately, the guy chose not to ask me the questions I had expected him to ask me (What's your favourite dish to cook? Is that your husband? Are your boobs real? Do you like it rough?).

He asked me about Christmas dinner.

Me: Um, I think I'm cooking ham this year!

GR: Ham! Ooh, roast honey glazed?

Me: Um no...

GR: Oh...you're gonna boil it? (looking at my boobs)

Me: Umm..yeah ok... (I'm actually roasting it)

GR: Who you got round for Christmas dinner then? The whole family? (squinting at my boobs)

Me: No it's just me, husband and the two kids. 2 years and 6 months.

GR: 6 months? Congratulations, fantastic. You look great for it! (to my boobs)

Me: Thanks! (pop the boobs a little)

I don't remember much else, apart from saying thank you umpteen million times and flinging myself over the counter to kiss him. Again.

I know the general argument is he's an arrogant fucker with attitude, a foul mouth and not the best personality in the world. And you'd sooner go for Jamie Oliver. But seriously. You just know Jamie Oliver wouldn't know how to take you roughly in a swanky hotel just yards from a fucking fancy restaurant.

Yeeeesssssss please.

D and I moved on to the Beer Tasting Arena, to ponder over the loveliness that is cleavage.



And yes this was taken, by D, in the middle of the Arena. With two lovely little ladies who were sat at our table, whom we hope to meet again next year.




"Book signing, dumb answers and awesome boobs. DONE."
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Challenge Accepted
@cosmicgirlie
I've done Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday flying solo. D has been working early (from like, 4am ACK) so from when they first wake up to about tea time, the challenge to manage the boys is on.

For the most part it's been fine. Apart from on Tuesday, when I put my phone in my back pocket as normal, to try to keep it away from Noah (who likes to keep handing me the phone, and gets pissed when I put it down; I'm yet to understand this). Went to change Isaac's nappy on the floor (you know, for the fun of it) and on removing the phone from my pocket, the screen was an array of spectacular blobs and colours. Broken LCD. Juussssst greeeeaaaaat.

And I confess whenever Noah starts whining, and Isaac starts screaming, I do struggle not to scream and whine right back at them. But I haven't cried yet (Yet! I said YET!) and I got them to playgroup on Tuesday...and we're hopefully going to sort out my phone this afternoon...and I might even get to the park tomorrow (weather pending).

Like I said before, I know there are moms who do this all the time and don't bat an eyelid. They have like, millions of kids, and they just take each day in their stride. Any mom who does that, just gets on with it, I totally admire.

As I said before, I have such little faith in myself, and while my hips and pelvis are starting to show marked improvement (thanks to private physio and chiropractor session at £40 for half an hour - ouch...) I'm obviously still loathe to go over board and end up making them worse again.

I think it's helped that Noah's starting to show improvement with his all night coughing; I took him to the Dr's on Monday afternoon and they've now given him an inhaler to use before he goes to bed. It's a struggle, but it seems to be helping a little. Not so great that they both like to wake up around 5:30 a.m. But at least they're both in bed by 7p.m.

I don't know. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the Nanny back; the house is a mess and there's laundry seemingly everywhere, and I could just do with 5 minutes to do some more work, and I'd like to sneak out to Subway for lunch and whatever. But for all my self doubting, I don't think I'm doing too bad a job actually.
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I'm a Big Kid Now...
@cosmicgirlie
Yes we did it. We took the side off the cot.



Because I'm too young to die repeatedly from a heart attack. So of course we put a "safety bar" on the side.



And what amazed us both, was after a little bit of to-ing and fro-ing, and then leaving him to it (with a baby gate at the top of the stairs), and one small whine where he dropped his paci's down the stairs, around 7:45pm (usually when he finally falls asleep) we found this.



He had taken his favourite books off the shelf to read, and played with an empty Disney box. Then gone to sleep. Last night (Night #2) he went off without even fussing at the gate.

And now, he's just gone down for his day nap. No fuss.

If there is a God? I thank you now. Because two days of Big Kiddo going to bed in a cot bed without fuss is worth A BILLION (well, maybe two or three) days worth of sleepless nights.

Damn I'm a proud mum.
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And in the news today
@cosmicgirlie
You'd think, given that it's been a week since I blogged, that I'd give you some kind of update(s) right?

Well I would, but shit me, I don't even remember half the stuff from the last three hours, forget the last week.

Needless to say Isaac is still frigging awesome, even if he does have a shit ass cold, and spends most of the night snuffling like a lil piggy looking for truffles (in my bra, no less). He's doing pretty well though, having gone through the night a couple of times (yes seriously, and he's not even three weeks old and people need to stop competing about whether a baby will sleep through the night already - do you think the baby read the manual? Um, nope.) and he feeds like I'm feeding him some kind of alcohol.



Awesome start to life, right?

*am awesome mother

Noah is somehow being seriously cool and yet somehow, evil child all at the same time. Whoever said terrible twos started at two, was lying through their damn butt cheeks. Unfortunately, he's discovered the joys of throwing kick ass tantrums (like, worse than the bitch tantrums he was throwing before), but because I am his mother the THE MUTHA, I have finally mastered "the look" that stops him in his tracks. It's a nice power trip. Must remember not to over use it I guess...



Fortunately, he's FINALLY started to try to say words, albeit the most random ones like oil, teeth, bath, one, two and ah-ah-achoo (thank you Imagination Movers). Of course, anyone else listening probably wouldn't have a clue what he's saying, but since I'm his mother, I'm obviously going to declare him a genius so bite me already.



I've calmed down (a little) from all the breastfeeding uproar and have decided that in future I will indeed whip my boobs out wherever and whenever my boy needs feeding, and if I ever get back into Mothercare Birmingham, I will make a point of feeding in the middle of the store. And I'll probably make a fuss about it too. Why make Mothercare suffer, you ask? Well they should sort out their damn shitty facilities, and they should also make other customers aware of the situation, rather than leave said customers to defend their shite incompetence.

But you know, no biggie.

I will, however, thank you (once again!) for your support, it's nice to know I'm not the only person out there with a real attitude for not taking any shit. And here I was starting to think it was just me who was wondering if being bolshy was all bad...

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go squirt some more milk into a bag and store it ready for my escape down to Gordon Ramsay's Restaurant in London. Yup yup yup!!
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Answers
@cosmicgirlie
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 36+3 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 35 weeks
Time to Go: 25 days. Heh.
Size: Big enough to make regular people crap themselves.
Time til ANOTHER Growth Scan: 6 days

Ok, so I understand there are a few questions and situations that remain unanswered. And so, here are the results.

House viewings: Not interested at this stage. I didn't understand when the feedback was that the property was just too small. Which begs the question, why, having read the details on the web/brochure, did you come and view it, and also go round commenting on how huge the rooms were? Or...maybe you're a member of the Dumbass League? Awesome.

Noah: He doesn't have an ear infection (even though he's constantly rubbing his ears and wincing), and therefore one of the few explanations for his fantastic behaviour lately is indeed puberty. Or the fact that he somehow knows something is really up in this house (like the colossal fact that he's about to have a brother or sister).

And on that note, we've decided it's a boy. Not because of any scans. Not because of gut feeling. Not even because we straight out asked the Doc to tell us. Nope, it's because tonight, in the bath, Noah took it upon himself to say "brother". Always on cue, whenever prompted. Do you think he would say "sister"? Helllll nope. Wouldn't even make a sound. But every time, "brother" came out, crystal clear. Hell, I can't even get the kid to say mama or dada, and the closest we get to any word at the mo is "oof oof" (which of course, is a dog barking. Plenty in terms of sign language though, so we're sill happy).

TV Fantasies: I do have a thing for Nigel Barker and Gordon Ramsay. I have no idea why.*

SPD: Crutches suck. They do not work. I still waddle around most places, though I seem to have had a little respite lately. The fun comes when I roll over in bed and there's an almighty "cracking" sound that comes from my crotch. Somewhat surreal, I think. Usually followed by me falling to the floor and wondering if I'll make it to the bathroom without making a mess. SO cool.

T.O.O.: (cos I know you're all eagerly awaiting the news, on the edge of your seats, right? Right? Thought so.) Well you know all that stress and crap and god knows what else that I went through last week? Yeah...it would appear we needn't have worried. Yes! Actual! Good! News! T.O.O. is currently cephalic, and had been that way for a good 24 hours (including when AMW palpated yesterday and by the way did I mention she's awesome?), fluid levels and the whole polyhydramnios thing is actually FINE and we are NOT in a danger zone, and whilst they still think it's big (of course), there are no major concerns, and some of the MWs don't think it's even as big as Noah. As of this moment, right now, I am actually physically exhausted with sheer relief. 

So what does this mean? Well I have one more appt with a consultant next Friday (which was OUR choice, they actually said we didn't have to if we didn't want to) and a final growth scan on Thursday, though the Consultant has said he won't be overly bothered by the results unless they show something drastic. Sooooo...

DEFINITELY no C/S as long as it stays cephalic. No induction unless I get to 54 weeks or I go batshit, whichever happens first (feel free to place a bet). And once I've met with the Consultant on Friday, we may, note, MAY be able to discuss the possibility of trying again for a home birth.

I'm too scared to even consider the very idea at the moment, things seem to be going frighteningly well.

* I realise this was never actually a raised issue, but sometimes it's good to get things off your chest...right? **
** I also quite like Alan Shore in Boston Legal, but I can't confess to too much in one go, it'll just blow your minds.
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On a much lighter note...
@cosmicgirlie
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 29+3 days
Month: 7
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 27 weeks
Time to Go: 73 days
Size: Long. Simultaneous punches to the bladder and kicks to the ribs long!

I'm starting to feel kinda bad that my blog has turned into a bit of a whinge lately; so today, courtesy of my still awesome new camera (squeeeeeeee!), this mornings post is a heavy duty photo essay, on the finer points of things that are cute, cool, lovely, silly, funny and more, with some narration.

Enjoy...



Damn paci glued to his mouth and he still got cute smiles dammit.


Ahw!!


Man, that singe tear thing.





The first time we EVER got him to swim on
his back without screaming murder and kicking
the crap out of me.


"Mom!! MOOOOMMMM!!! HAAALLP!!"


"Now let's see, next is downward facing dog...
or was that upside down tv?"


Cuddles or wrestling, we're not quite sure.


"See momma? I can be gentle."


"I can also be crazy." (How BIG are those eyes??)


"Archie I just KNOW you wants a hug, yes?"


First time in the snow


"Woah!! This stuff is, er, cold."


"How ya like me now?" (he sucks
the "juice" out of baby wipes. I did
NOT teach him this.)


Wha...what? Another hug for me? Damn son,
you getting soft in your old age?


Frantic horse riding. Faster you rock him, the
more hysterical he laughs.


Bath times!! We loves.


"Aaaaa!!"


"Here dolphin, you need a shower."


"No mama, you must be mistaken.
This here is MY mobile phone."


He won't wear gloves on his hands.
But he'll wear socks. Hey, whatever
works, right?


He spent 10 minutes "talking" to
the snow on his swing.


Out in the Arctic, the intrepid explorer ventured
away from the security of his shelter into
unchartered territory...


...looking for only minimal help
and confirmation to go forth...


...and then fell over.


"I am sooooooo gonna be a skater,
check out these moves!"


"Hey daddad...what is this stuff anyways??"





Raspberry blowing competition. Noah won (by
a margin) for the extra fluids.


The fantastically cool men in my life.
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Take a Look See
@cosmicgirlie
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 25+1 day
Month: 6
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 23 weeks
Heartbeat: 151
Time to Go: 103 days
Size: A larger cat (Tiger?)
Time til 4D Scan: 25 days

The last few days have been strangely great. I'm fighting evil pregnancy hormones like nothing I've ever seen (sometimes I think manic depression doesn't even compare), I'm now on no sleep (thanks to The Other One who has limbs like lead weights and Noah still coughing up the remains of his poor lungs) and my crotch is reliving the fantasy tale of SPD, at full force.

But above all of that, I've enjoyed Noah so much, he's been brilliant. He's such a laugh and is enjoying his new toys so much. Yesterday at Tickety Boo they sang Happy Birthday to him which was really sweet (even though he had no clue what was going on of course) and D was there too which was nice.

At his photoshoot he was his usual "Screw you if you think I'm going to sit still for more than 3 seconds" self, which made it even more fun; but having seen some of the pics already, I'm so pleased with what Anthony has taken, and the work Your Big Day have done on them. I NEVER get emotional over stuff like that, and I actually got goose bumps looking at them. Goose bumps people. I didn't even know my body could produce them (cold, heartless woman that I am).

A sneak preview:



We had sooo much fun and Noah was just hilarious, trying to keep him still long enough to get ONE picture. And amazingly he was sooooo well behaved, no tantrums (despite the fact that he was pretty worn out by this point).

At home he ripped open a million more presents:



And devoured a considerable amount of food:











As well as having a play in the snow.




An awesome string of days, for an awesome kid. I can't wait to do it again.
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