9 things I liked in June…

I’m doing a spot of enforced positive thinking & hoping it bears fruit. Join in me in focusing on the pleasant and crossing my fingers that the good feelings grow.

1. I don’t have much call for work out wear, but I did love that plus size Nike mannequin. Fat folk can & do live full lives. I love it when brands get behind us wearing whatever the hell we want. It’s also satisfying to watch people tying themselves in knots trying to excuse their fat phobia.

Plus size Nike mannequin

2. I’ve been planning a self love/sexy gallery wall in my bedroom for so long and this month I finally executed it. It makes me happy to lie in bed and look at my kinky Shakespeare.

Framed art on red wall

3. I’ve been out of the dating pool for quite a while. My initial dips back in were disappointing & a tad stressful. I didn’t feel all that hopeful about finding the sort of chilled out experience I was after. Colour me surprised to have spent June having a relaxed & super fun time with someone lovely.

4. In the grand scheme of things this may be on the trivial side, but I like it as a symbol. The Trump administration banned embassies from flying the rainbow flag for Pride month. Lots of embassy staff around the world found other ways to show their solidarity. Possibly the best example being the embassy in New Delhi, who lit up the entire building. In the face of this appalling government it is heartening that people are taking steps to visibly resist.

New Delhi embassy lit in rainbow colours

5. While we’re on the subject my nails have all been rainbow themed this month & carrying Pride around with me has been very pleasing.

Pride nail art

6. I am a late adopter and probably about twenty years too old, but I have fallen in love with Lewis Capaldi this month. His songs are beautiful and his insta stories are bloody funny. If you are the one person left on the planet who hasn’t heard of him, fix that.

Lewis Capaldi

7. My amazing muffin made me incredibly proud this month when she won 2 bronze medals at her first Jui Jitsu state championships. My girl is so talented & her accomplishments make me so happy.

8. It’s hard not to smile when you know you’re wearing the cutest knickers. Wilde Mode happy pussy pants have been a simple pleasure this month.

9. June was the month that finally brought the new series of Killing Eve. It’s been driving me crazy that our American friends got to enjoy Villanelle’s antics whilst I languished murderless. All I can say is, it was worth the wait. Sandra Oh is a goddess.

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Along with the sunshine…

Years ago I had a genius idea. I thought it would be lovely if we could have a real life version of those romantic montages you get in films. You know the bit in a romcom where someone thinks back over their relationship and we see all the best bits. Now imagine being able to replay the special moments of your own life. That would be lovely right?

Not just the romantic high spots. A full on motion picture, this if your life best bits to play whenever you need a boost. It’s been a tough year so far. So allow me to wander through the memories that feel dreamy. I give you a snippet of my highlight reel.

This one probably doesn’t seem that special, but it still gives me butterflies every single time I summon it. I was just meeting someone for lunch. He was waiting on the steps of a gallery looking stern. As he saw me approaching his expression relaxed. When I reached him he kissed me in a way I hadn’t experienced before or since. I’ll never be able to explain what made that kiss different from all the others, but it made me feel completely wanted. Safe & desired & understood. Then he half turned, caught my eye over his shoulder and took my hand. I melted. It wasn’t a special day. We didn’t do anything extraordinary. There were no meaningful declarations. We definitely didn’t live happily ever after. Yet it is without a doubt the best kiss of my life. It’s funny the things that leave a mark.

I’ve been been consuming a romanticised version of New York City my whole life. It appears in my favourite books, music, art & films. It’s famous streets were home to idols real & fictional. From my early teens I was desperate to get there. I knew it would be incredible, but I was always a little afraid that the real thing couldn’t live up to the fantasy. NYC is turns out, is one of those rare things in life that never lets you down. It is every bit is as magnificent as I had hoped it would be. Everything looks exactly as you thought it would, but still seems unreal. It is a wonderful surprise to find that the place you’ve been dreaming about actually exists. The Empire State makes you believe Cary Grant might sweep you off your feet. The Dakota looks exactly as John left it. 5th Avenue is just like all those advertising posters from the 40’s. Every corner turned reveals a spot where that other Carrie might have swooned over Big. The skyline is as impressive as you imagined and the lights of the city twinkling from the park will take your breath away. More than that, it feels just like I hoped it would. It’s buzzing with creativity & promise & resilience. Wandering alone in Manhattan made me feel exactly as I had anticipated that it might. That swelling of excitement in my core was magical.

ly h Kerr NYC

During my fourth pregnancy I was offered an early scan. A chance to check everything was going to plan. I was terrified and excited. I can’t remember much of what was said. It’s all just a fear stricken blur until the glorious sound of my unborn child’s heartbeat made everything clear. That steady, seemingly irrepressible beat filled a gaping hole that I had worried was bottomless. Hope, it seems, can breach any gap. I’ll never forget that feeling. Whatever came after, I’ll have those precious minutes & that wonderful sound.

When my niece was a toddler my brother & sister in law took her to visit family in South Africa & Zimbabwe. They were gone for nearly a month and I missed her so much. I couldn’t wait to see her on their return. It turned out the feeling was mutual. When she saw me she screamed. She guided me to sit in the floor and climbed into my lap. The way her little face beamed at me is the closet thing to pure happiness that I’ve ever witnessed. Knowing that this precious little person could love me like that is one of the greatest feeling imaginable.

Muffin

On a girl’s holiday in kavos a huge group of us went out for Mexican food. As happens in places like kavos they gave everyone a free shot of tequila. Of the 14 girls assembled only my bff & I liked tequila. So, with a combination of confidence & stupidity that 21 year olds possess, we drank the lot. With 7 tequila shots in each of our bellies we embarked upon a night of awesomeness. The drinks continued to flow, we danced on bars and beaches. We sang at the top of our lungs. We lost the rest of the gang & met a variety of interesting strangers including a guy we named jiminy cricket (we never worked out why). Pam fell asleep on a giant pounding speaker and I mistook a goat for a dog. Finally we witnessed the sun coming up over the booze soaked island as we stumbled our way home. It was the ridiculously messy kind of night you only have when you’re young & far away from home. It was highly irresponsible and probably pretty dangerous, but I wouldn’t change a second if it. I’ll always be glad I had those party days. I’ll always be grateful I had the best friend possible to share them with.

Pam & I

My Gran died young. She had cancer that recurred & spread. I was too young to understand the ins and outs at the time. In fact, I didn’t even know she was ill until close to end. I was the first granddaughter and she basically spoilt me rotten. She called me The Queen. She took me everywhere with her & made it her business to satisfy my whims. From my eagerness to ride horses to my heartfelt opposition to Mum’s chewing gum ban; Gran fixed it. What I’m saying is there are countless highlight worthy times to pick from. The one I always come back to is an uneventful Saturday. We were at Gran’s house & she was debuting what she described as her new look. She had started putting her hair in a tiny ponytail & wearing track suits. In my head it’s pale blue and pretty smart for a track suit, but my memory may be wrong. In any case it was a departure from her usual put together style. She was making jokes and asking how I liked the new image. I didn’t know at the time, but in hindsight it was a change prompted my necessity not fashion. She was getting sicker. She needed more ease and comfort. She must have been in pain. She had to have been scared. I never knew. I do know now how hard it is to be sore & sick all the time. I’m not facing what she did. I’m not dying. She never wavered. She took her narrowing horizons and made it something fun for the grandkids. When I think of her in that sweatsuit she’s laughing & living. That feels like real love.

When I went to Brisbane I was just getting into body positivity. The idea that my body wasn’t wrong was very new. Finding myself in a tropical climate with most days reaching at least 35 Celsius shunted my body acceptance journey into a faster gear. The heat was too intense to cover all the bits I thought needed to be hidden. I was compelled to wear things that would normally have scared me. Guess what happened? Absolutely nothing. I explored the city with my flabby arms & thunder thighs on show and no one cared. After a few days I stopped thinking about if I could wear certain things & just put things on my body. I began to notice that I actually liked how I looked in these items that I’d never usually have dared to wear. I felt comfortable. The day we went to an animal sanctuary was crazy hot. I wore a tiny little flippy blue vest dress. As I wandered amongst kangaroos I realised that I felt completely at ease. The animals were beautiful, the sun felt good on my skin. I was happy & free. It was one of those perfect days when I not only felt amazing in the moment, but I knew I was experiencing a breakthrough. If I could bottle up that feeling, I’d put weight watchers out of business.

Brisbane sunset

I was lucky enough to have a fairly delightful childhood. There were a lot of happy times. One of my stand out memories is the time I spent with my siblings after dinner & before dessert. My parents would send us into living room to let our tummies settle. Looking back I suspect they just wanted 15mins of quiet adult conversation. In any case, no settling of any kind went on. We took advantage of that unsupervised period to behave like mini maniacs. We played a variety of very rough & tumble games of our own devising. To be honest I’m surprised that both the room & all four children survived gems like ‘crocodiles’ & ‘pile on’. We did & those times were golden. This was before the boys got too cool to want to actually play with their little sisters. Back when my baby sister was still an adorably chubby cheeked little monster. It was long before any of us had any worries beyond how good pudding would be. We were securely encased in the family unit. We always had someone to talk to, someone to carry on with & someone to tease. We never doubted that our parents could handle any difficulty we encountered. Life was good.

Young Kerrs

It occurs to me that some of my happiest life snap shots are bittersweet. I’m not sure if it’s that just the way of life or a testament to what happens when the universe beats you up a bit. Either way, I’m glad I’ve mastered the art of counting my blessings. I suppose sometimes the cliches are true; you can’t have the rainbow without the rain.

Hit the spot…

February has been a fairly insular month. It’s very cold outside & I’m not much in the mood for socialising. I’ve hit the Netflix & actually chill a little harder than usual. It’s been the month for distractions & these have been the most effective.

I’ll just dive right in with the Netflix shows that have definitely been diverting if not entirely relaxing. Abducted in Plain Sight is insane. It’s documentary covering the abduction of a girl by a family friend. The behaviour of almost every adult in the entire tale is beyond explanation. If the story was fiction it would be dismissed as ridiculous. Also horrific, but in a completely different way is The Bleeding Edge. Another documentary, this one about medical devices & implants that highlights a terrifyingly lax regulation process. Watching this doc probably did not help my insomnia, but it may save me some future medical catastrophe. Last of my Netflix trilogy is also billed is scary. Since I’d never trust a man I’d only known 6 weeks never mind marry one, this one isn’t keeping me up nights. Dirty John is based on the true story of a lying, cheating nutcase. Whilst it’s doing nothing to raise my opinion of the menfolk it is worth a watch. I have been watching one series that does make me feel warm towards humanity, Catastrophe. Everything about it is exceptional; hilarious, real, romantic, tawdry & I liked. The final episode had me in bits, in a good way.

Netflix viewing

An insomniacs best friend is a good book and I’ve been rattling through them in the last few weeks. I opened the month with The Tattooist of Auschwitz which manages to do the almost impossible by making a story about a death camp hopeful. Having said that it’s not very well written & really doesn’t live up to the hype. Giving a book about the holocaust a tepid review feels harsh, but there are better books on this topic. Oyinkan Braithwaite’s take on the serial killer genre was a better choice. My Sister, the Serial Killer is creepy and yet almost playful. You know exactly where the story is headed, but you still want to get there. I’m currently digging back into the Patrick Melrose novels. I re read the first two in the series last year and then got sidetracked. Some Hope is probably my favourite of the five. If you haven’t read these St Aubyn classics, you should.

Patrick Melrose novels & the tattooist if auschwitz

My cute little record player was an excellent purchase. It offers distraction on two fronts, great sounding bath soundtracks & an excuse to go rooting in second hand shops for cool records. The latest of which is The Jesus and Mary Chain. Psycho Candy gets me with it’s relaxed trippiness. It is extra beloved for being on the Lost in Translation soundtrack & just thinking about that last kiss in the street makes me smile.

Books & records

Bronan really likes it too. Every time I put a record on he sits right beside it & purrs like mad.

Cat listening to record playing

Back on the digital side I have had one song in particular on repeat. No Pressure by Mahalia just speaks to me. It’s one of those songs that I just adore the cadence of. I was alerted to it’s greatness via Meghan Tonjes’ insta stories. Meghan herself has also been featuring on my Spotify most played list. Her collaboration with Daren on Count Me Out is a sentiment I can get behind.

Mahalia, no pressure

When I have ventured out it has been to see my glorious little people (& their creators) all of whom breathe colour into my life. My littlest monkey had his first birthday this month. My big nephew is going through an adorable dinosaur phase. Madison’s curls just keep getting cuter & my not so little goddess is texting now. She just loves to send her old auntie freaky gifs.

Not sleeping also gives me endless hours to paint my nails. I hate to have bare nails. These have been my February favs.

ly h Kerr Nail Art

Mixed media & preening aside it’s been an equal split between baths and sunsets. Both bring me comfort and earn a 5 star rating.

Sunsets and thigh tattoo in the bath

Make it easy on yourself…

2019 has barely gotten going & it’s been rough already. In a matter of weeks I have lost my baby & my boyfriend, which is less than an auspicious beginning. If I sound flippant, I’m not, I’m just trying very hard to put one foot in front of the other.

The demise of my pregnancy is devastating. My relationship’s end is sad, but the right decision and that’s about all I have to say on the topic. I find myself approaching the year (and my life) alone again. Being single hasn’t ever worried me all that much. I’m definitely not scared to be that kind of alone. Childlessness on the other hand, terrifies me. What do you when you’re facing your biggest fear? I haven’t a fucking a clue.

#projectpostit

For the time being I have taken the clichéd approach of one day at a time. I’m trying not to spend every day at home in my jammies (there is however a lot of crying on the sofa). Functioning is a struggle for a multitude of reasons. Primarily, I am exhausted. I’m always tired. Add even less sleep, the effort it takes to contain my anger at life itself, the fact that I will not stop bleeding, so despite the blood transfusion my haemoglobin level continues to flag and you get extreme fatigue. Having a different emotion every 5 seconds is tiring. Battling (& often failing) to contain the tears is wearing. Breathing & washing & conversing & not screaming is all taking gargantuan effort. The truth is I’m not managing very much. I’m practising being ok with that.

Blood transfusion, Rose wine, snuggling cat, reading baby

I recommend spending time with people who don’t expect too much of you. I’m giving priority to anything that give me comfort; my little people & potatoes pretty much have that covered. Hot baths have featured heavily as has ‘fake it ’til you make it’ make up. There was one afternoon of day drinking with a lovely friend that actually helped a lot, but not something it would be wise to make a habit of. My purring cat is a godsend. I’m reading, sleeping whenever I can and endeavouring to be gentle with myself.

ly h Kerr

I have no clue how to tackle the overwhelming sense of guilt. Chipping away at how ‘not fair’ this is may well take the rest of my life. I’m focusing on the small stuff. Giving myself a pass on the growing mountain of washing, the ideas that go unpitched and being awfully rude to the person who called about my non-existent road traffic accident. I find it harder than you’d imagine to let that stuff go. Being hard on myself comes easy. i have learned that when life gets you on the ground it’s worth tackling the instinct to kick oneself whilst already down.

Sunset

Just the way I’m feeling…

A few Fridays ago, in search of positive distraction I did what I usually do when I need a pick me up, spent time with a little one. Specifically my baby nephew. He’s on the verge of turning one so my sis & I thought it was time he checked out the science centre.

The boy loved being able to crawl around and touch everything. Obviously he didn’t understand them, but he still enjoyed playing with the exhibits. I of course was right in thinking my joyful little man would lift my mood & my sister loved everything her boy does. Thus, a successful day out was had.

I was hoping that looking like a functioning human being would help me feel like one. I’m not sure it really worked, but I did like this outfit. Perhaps it’ll work some magic me on me another day.

ly h Kerr mirror selfie

Dress – Boohoo

Tights – Snag Tights

A simple black shirt dress is perfect for pairing with brights tights (& accessories). I am a new devotee of snag tights; they fit perfectly, don’t fall down & look lush. The dress is less perfect. I had to add a vest as the buttons over my bust gaped terribly. I had already sized up and if I go up again to accommodate my boobs it will be too big everywhere else. I always say size with up Boohoo, but to be honest I’m getting a bit sick of their crap sizing. I’m a 20/22 everywhere, but struggle to get into a lot of Boohoo 24s. That’s not good enough. Sort it out.

A few years ago when my niece was home from Australia we took a picture in the big mirror wall at the science centre. It was a cracker. We clearly had to get one with the boy. It’s another beauty. I just need one with my middle nephew and I’ll have the full set!

Family mirror selfie

For all your days & nights…

My niece will be 9 years old this week. My tiny muffin is growing at record speed. She is the oldest of my niblings. The first perfect little person one of my siblings created. The first mini Kerr to steal my heart. Our wee goddess is not so small anymore. She does however remain utterly incredible. Which is why I give you this Ode to Athena.

Athena is girl who wins gold medals in her very first Jui Jitsu competition. She speaks with that Aussie tone that makes almost everything a question, but always make her point clear. She can mimic a Glasgow accent expertly & she turns it on with perfect comic timing. My muffin has always been precocious. She walked & talked before most; her tongue has rarely been quiet nor her person still since.

Bias aside this child blows me away. Her vocabulary is impressive. Her creative talents prodigious. She excels in every subject, but more importantly, she’s kind. My Athena will brook no cruelty. Be it mean names or rough handling, tiny animal or a giant Daddy, no feelings shall be hurt. She cries foul. This Goddess rules her world with benevolence.

My baby girl now has longer legs than her Mama and as much sass as you’d expect from a kid who’s ancestry includes a Scot and a Zimbabwean. She can always come up with a game we can play via FaceTime and she still ends every call with beep, beep, beep, love you. At almost 9 she has already worked out that Disney love stories are bull & clocked it’s important to watch the news. So much of the baby Athena is gone. She now prefers jeans over party dresses and ipad games over my little ponies. My little one is big and brave and so so smart, but she’s not grown yet. She still wonders if maybe I should have married a dragon and to my utter relief she still has time for long running video calls with her old Auntie.

No matter how incomprehensible her text messages get, Athena will forever be my muffin. I’ll always know where her select freckles lie. I’ll never forget the days she fell asleep in my arms. I will always love her more than my heart can handle. She has been wowing the world since even before her first breath. I’m certain she has many more wondrous feats in store for us. She hardly needs to be told, but,

Baby be a giant,

Let the world be small.

For your babies…

I’m sitting on the sofa trying to be still because my baby nephew is asleep on my shoulder. He just shifted a little, gave a big sigh & squeezed my arm with his chubby fingers. I can feel his breath on my neck & smell his milky breath. I’m in heaven. This is as close to complete contentment as I get.

I’m exhausted. My back hurts. My knee is throbbing. Yet, I feel happy & at peace. Soon he’ll wake. At first he’ll be confused. He always wakes up suspicious, checking all around him. I think he forgets where he was when he fell asleep. Once he has his bearings his face will break into a big smile. He’ll look at me like he is utterly delighted to discover I am here & I’ll melt for the millionth time.

I feel the same swell of love with all niblings. At the weekend I listened in wonder as my 2yr old nephew sang me the whole alphabet. My heart almost burst as these two beautiful boys played together. Bigger cousin being so gentle with his smaller counterpart. Baba giggling & crawling, so eager to play with his best friend. Every new skill he masters is wonder. I still relish every time he says Auntie Lynsey. The pride & excitement never wears off.

Earlier I FaceTimed his big cousin. She’s 8 yrs old & nearly as tall as her Mum. I remember her being this size like it was yesterday. I’ve watched her grow & learn, loving every single stage. Gone is our baby girl. My Muffin now wants to share her thoughts on cubism & send me animated gifs representing how her day went. Her report card not only applauded her academic achievements, but noted how she goes out of her way to be kind. She’s incredible. They all are. My siblings make good babies.

I am so honoured to have the to opportunity to help mould these precious little lives. They bring me a joy that cannot be replicated. Every smile & giggle & kiss & ‘I love you’ make all my struggles seem void. It is easy to be overwhelmed by what I don’t have. Life is bloody hard, but it feels ridiculously easy when I cause a smile to light up their faces.

Perhaps the next best thing can be enough. You have to take your wins wherever you can find them.