Buy one get three free

Weeks pass by without pen to paper, either because I'm too busy (even to do a wee sometimes) or I am tired, uninspired and have a touch of the old writer's block. Then I get a hundred ideas of what I want to rant about, share or express. This blog is about what is going on in my head right now.

3 YEAR OLD BULLIES:

There are two "dominant" characters that I aware of at Charlotte's nursery. One of her little boyfriends is getting pushed around by another boy. His mother tells her son to push the boy back, I can see her point. Boys need to be tough and to be able to fight their own battles. We tell Charlotte never to hit or push anyone. She is upset as says that another girl hits her and pushes her. This could be an attention seeking tale. The nursery workers say there is a little girl that is a bit bossy towards the other children. I never thought that it would upset me so much. Ben told me off for teaching Charlotte to be a bitch as I tell her to say "whatever" or "talk to the hand" but mostly I say to walk away from it and play with other friends; to concentrate on the nice children. It is a shock that bullying starts at such a young age. Though if I analyse this it is human nature. Wild animals kill each other. At 3 do kids know right from wrong? Probably not but the parents and grown ups do. Now is the time to teach our children to be kind and giving little beings.

MENOPAUSE STUFF

Two of my friends are getting night sweats and their periods have stopped. Starting the flipping things at age 11 was crappy but exciting too. I became a woman. When the time comes for me for them to stop, I will feel sad. It will mark the end of an era.

MOBILE MADNESS

This is something that I come up against working in recruitment. HR Managers complain about it fashionably. Why do young people of today have a crazy obsession with their phones? Many are glued to the bloody things. When I started work and to this very day,  I arrive at my desk miles before 9am, take a sort lunch break and rarely take a personal telephone call. That was so taboo. I know and love dearly a young person who checks her phone during zumba and even doing 90  in the fast lane of the M25!!

DEATH BECOMES HER

At 3, I have already had conversations with Charlotte about the birds and the bees. She knows that once upon a time she was a twinkle in my eye, then a bump in my belly and that she was made because Mummy and Daddy love each other. Well, she does ask where she comes from.  I was thrown when she asked if we will die, what happens when we die and then told me that she died when she used to be a big girl and then acted it out (she dropped her head and pretended to be asleep). Eek!! I thought she was an old soul and had been here before, but that kind of freaked me out.

Miscarriage

Christmas Eve 2005. I was sitting in the Family Church Service feeling extremely emotional. This time next year I would be a Mummy. Every time I hear the Christmas Song, "Little Donkey" I get the urge to burst into tears. I have no idea why. This Christmas was no different. My hormones were completely up the spout. I was so happy and so proud and feeling fantastic. Only this feeling didn't last for long as a little over a month later the baby was gone. No more. Over.

"It wasn't meant to be". "There must have been something wrong with it". People mean well but the comments didn't help.

Each time I lost a baby, and I know thousands of women feel the same, I wanted a reason. "Why me?". It just wasn't fair. Life isn't fair.

I think about my babies more and more as I reach the end of my fertile years. Their Birthdays are written in my little book. Are they Charlotte's guardian angels? Will they be watching over her? Were they boys or girls? I know the answer to that. Let's call it a Mother's intuition. Would they have been ginger too? I could have them playing the Weasleys in a future Harry Potter film.

A woman becomes a Mother the moment she sees that blue line (or little pink dot if you go to the Pound Shop). Once we know there is a new beginning inside of us, we nurture that growing being and love he or she unconditionally. Miscarriage is unbearable and anyone that has experienced such a loss knows how intolerable the pain is.

This Christmas I will be praying for women that have suffered this terrible thing. Hang in there. The future is bright and there is so much help out their to guide you through the grief and give you hope.  That is why I am chuffed to bits that Ben and Rash are running the London Marathon 2013 for the Miscarriage Association.

I will never ever forget my babies that are not on this earth. All four of them.

Confessions of a Twentys Rep and a Club Rep out in London..

Many years ago, when I was a girl-around-town I had a night out in London with a group of friends.  We met a group of boys and sat huddled around a table in a trendy bar having fun and fighting each other for the attention of the gorgeous one. It was an outrageous night and as we got drunker, we were doing the best we could to get a date with Mr Gorgeous. My mate, the Club 18-30 rep succeeded in swopping numbers with Mr Gorgeous and boy, did she gloat. Good for her though, the best girl on the night won the prize.  The rest of us were a tiny bit jealous but had such a wicked night it didn’t matter.

The date was actually a disaster!  Club Rep met Mr Gorgeous the following week in a bar and immediately noticed something about him that none of us had noticed on a drunk dark night in the West End of London. She excused herself to go to the ladies to powder her nose, then swiftly ran away never to see Mr Gorgeous again! Ok it may not be politically correct, but there is a lot of pressure on young single women to look good, feel good and quite simply vanity and expectations get in the way of kindness and sincerity. The nicer things in life are more important to us as we get older. 

I told this story to the girls in the office this week to see what they would have done when they noticed that Mr Gorgeous was not as perfect as we had first thought. We had honest bitch that would have said, “sorry but this is just not going to work”. We had Coward Bitch that would have also made a very quick exit and me, who would probably have married the guy, loved him forever and had 2.4 children.

The moral of the story is: Do not judge a book by its cover.