It’s a new year and I have a two new favourites. Both were Xmas presents and I am in love.
My new favourite dress is t shirt dress with a twist. This makes it incredibly comfortable and easy to wear. With the bonus of making my curves look banging. If it is available in other colours/prints, I am buying all of them!
Dress – Asos
My second fav are these wonderful jammies. They are so soft and wonderfully comfy. The fold down waist allows me to accommodate my belly comfortably at even its most extreme pcos bloat. Plus I look cute in them. I honestly would wear them everyday if I could.
Pyjamas – Next
I’ve had a slow start to January, so the jammies have had more wear than the dress. I’m gearing up now, so more fun outfits are coming soon.
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No doubt everywhere you look you’re seeing lists of achievements, New Year’s resolutions and diet talk. Of course, I am here to interrupt all that bullshit.
For starters, you are not required to have a list of great successes. Some years are a hard slog. We all have different obstacles. For that matter we also have different goals and aspirations. Some folk are happy with their status quo and that is perfectly fine. If you’re worrying about your wins not being big or plentiful enough, please don’t. You made it & that’s enough. I don’t care if you didn’t get a big promotion or a new house, you did do every single day. You took care of yourself (& anyone else you’re responsible for), you paid the bills & made the dinners. You were also there for people in your life, you celebrated birthdays and talked through tough times. You are important, you matter in your everyday life. In the words of Self Esteem, ‘all the days you get to have are big days’. So congratulations, you have completed another turn around the sun. I’m certain you’ve had more impact than you know.
Let’s move along to the resolutions. If there are things you want to do by all means set a goal, make a plan. However, you are not obligated to change or become ‘better’ just because we entered a new year. Chances are you already have a whole heap of stuff piled on your plate. Perhaps you’re struggling to digest all that last year brought. Or maybe you’re half through a project or plan. It’s all good. Jan 1st doesn’t really signify anything. Just keep going.
Finally we come to my most disliked new year pressure; weight loss. You are going to be with adverts, influencers and people in your life telling you about their diet. Everyone will have the answer. This new medication, plan, supplement is the real thing. Let me save you a lot of trouble, it’s all crap. It’s the same thing repackaged and trying to convince you it is the answer to all your problems. Diets don’t work. Deep down we all know that. The vast majority of people regain anything shed via intentional weight loss. In fact, most of us add a bit extra too. What’s more, making your body smaller doesn’t fix anything inside you. It’s not a magic wand. In case you don’t hear it anywhere else, I’m going to say it; your worth is not tied to your weight.
You can live your life right now. Shrinking your body is not required. You do not have to for indulging over the festive season. Nor do you have to put anything on hold until you are smaller. Health and weight loss are not the same thing.
In short, you are enough. I hope you feel that and take it into 2025.
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I know I promised to write about some of the significant things happening in our crazy world, but my own little crazy world has gotten the better of me. I’ve been struggling with a gastro flare & non stop fainting. Both of which have left me exhausted. So, once I have contended with life’s essentials, I have very little left.
I’ve been using any leftover spoons to see my littles and take care of myself. One of the things I can do that makes me feel a tiny bit better is paint my nails. Of course I have been getting spooky with my nail art.
On Saturday I ventured out to the theatre to see my nephew’s Halloween show. The show was fantastic, I was so proud of him. I also took the opportunity to debut my new glasses. I am utterly in love with them.
Glasses – Where LightSkirt – Lindy Bop
Bear with me, more insightful content coming soon.
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September is a bumper birthday month around here. My own slips in right at the end, so I am now 44yrs old. How did that happen?
Anyway, I think I’m doing ok for an old bird. On Sunday we had a big lunch with cake, presents and the whole shebang. Obviously I had to smash it with my outfit and I did! Perhaps you’re not supposed to blow your on trumpet, I do not care. I looked gooooood. You’d never guess I’m middle aged.
I’m feeling pretty strange about this whole mid 40’s thing. I don’t know how I got here so fast. I need someone to catch up the ly in my head. She still feels like her twenties were five minutes ago. Except they also feel a lifetime ago too. It’s very confusing in here. Reckoning with mortality and all the things that are behind me is tough. It’s just as well I’m such a hottie; takes the sting out of it.
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Today you would turn 24. That’s older than I was when I carried you. I still don’t know how to reconcile the fact that I have lived your whole life in my head, but have never held you in my arms.
It’s hard for me to imagine mothering a grown man. Although, I certainly needed my Mum at 24. I made some unwise decisions. I hope I could help you avoid some. I also hope I’d know when to stand back and let you make your own mistakes. I have a lifetime of love and nurture stored up. There are countless things I wanted to teach you. So many moments I have played over and over in my head.
I don’t know exactly what I believe about heaven and god. I know there is something. I know you are somewhere. I can’t envisage a reality in which you haven’t been loved; haven’t felt my love. I’ll never stop yearning to express that love. I would give everything to have held you even once.
Things have been rough since I lost Bronan. I keep expecting him to wander into the room. I’m home most of the time, so we were together all the time. My daily habits and routines were centred around my boy. Eveything feels off without him.
I had Bronan cremated & he’s back home now. I also have a little bit of his fur. I haven’t completely decided, but I think I will scatter a little of him in his garden with some forget me not seeds. I will keep the rest of his ashes home with me. The people I worked with were wonderful. Very compassionate & professional. I am grateful that they made our last moments together so peaceful.
I have been seeking solace in my little ones. They are so loving and wonderful. They offer temporary distraction from my sadness. It’s summer holidays, so we’ve had time to have lots of adventures. We’ve been to the park, swimming, the cinema and more.
My adult people have also been wonderful. It’s very comforting to be around people who don’t need me to explain how I’m feeling. I want to say thank you to everyone who has been so kind here & on Instagram etc. I appreciate all of your lovely words.
Yesterday was one of those ugh days. I had a couple of medical appointments and a few errands to run. I was tired and sore, but it was a sunny day, so off I set.
My mood took the first knock when my taxi driver has a rant about how short my journey was. Granted I wasn’t going far, but I can’t get about on foot. If I want to go somewhere, I need a taxi. Next up was a rude & unhelpful woman in the chemist. She made it very clear that finding my prescription was an inconvenience. Much huffing, puffing and snarky comments ensued, which drew stares from other customers. The final nail in the coffin of my day was the hospital receptionist who would not source a chair for me, but also got angry when I sat on the floor. Sitting on the floor is hazard, but passing out because I cannot stand apparently is not.
Rubbish day, but not the end of the world, right? If these were isolated incidents I would probably just brush them off. The problem is, it happens all the time. Being a disabled person out in the world can be a challenge. Accessibility is a problem, but even requests for basic accommodations can be met with irritation. On some level, I understand that. Work can be exhausting, maybe you’re having a bad day and being asked for something extra could just tip you over. However, most of my life is exhausting. I don’t make these requests to be awkward, I need them.
The result is I get apologetic. I begin my request with ‘I’m sorry, but’ or ‘I don’t want to be pest, but’. I feel like an inconvenience for asking. I anticipate that my accessibility request may not be well received. Listen, inside I often feel like getting arsey. My natural demeanour is not push over. I just know it won’t help. I also rarely have the energy for the fight. Thus, I find myself simultaneously pissed off at being made to feel bothersome & apologising for the perceived trouble.
I don’t need any help on the guilt front. I already feel like a burden to people that matter. Is it too much to ask that strangers don’t make me feel like shit? My needs are very straightforward; a seat mainly. I dread to think how anyone with a more complex requirement fares. All I’d ask is that before you roll your eyes or have a moan consider that this a moment of inconvenience for you is a lifetime of fuckery for us. Maybe you could just zip your lips and grab a chair after all?
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As predicted last week’s level of activity resulted in this week’s inactivity. I’ve been sore and exhausted. Tedious, but expected. The thing that has really been bothering me is my foul mood.
I’m extremely pissed off. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. No one has done anything egregious. I have experienced no great wrong. Yet, each day I wake up feeling grumpier than the last. My baseline emotion is crabby.
The slightest provocation sends my simmering frustration to bubbling over. I lose a page in a book, spill my tea, forget a detail and I’m furious. My wrath is not solely directed inwards, everyone & everything annoys me. For no reason. I know my feelings are unreasonable. Consequently, it is best for me to be where others are not. I doubt all this seclusion is helpful. Turning all this negativity on myself is unlikely to produce much joy.
I’m at a loss for a solution. I’m accustomed to feeling sad or scared, but this aimless anger is uniquely discomforting. I hope it will pass. Perhaps when I’m less fatigued my mood will lift. Maybe the state of the world is getting to me. Or just life itself. Whatever the cause, I do not love it.
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I’ve never feared storms. On the contrary, I mostly find them comforting. Thunder, gales, torrential downpour all increase my sense of safety as long as I experience their strength from behind four walls. Nothing feels quite as cosy as listening to wild weather batter around one’s secure domicile. The sounds are soothing. The gratitude of having a comfortable place to take shelter brings a warm contentment. Similarly, I enjoy rough seas. I’ve always preferred a desolate winter beach to one that is sundrenched. I find a listing vessel thrilling. I hope for a crossing choppy enough to produce that I don’t know where my foot will land when I take a step sensation. Crashing waves, howling winds, angry skies; tick, tick, tick.
There is only one niggle. If Mother Nature is unsettled in conjunction with my mind things can get rocky. Only a very particular mood presents a problem. Clear cut emotions pose no threat. If I’m sad the rain feels appropriate. Angry and my dirt is matched.However, if a storm hits when my mind is in conflict with itself, batten down the hatches. Sometimes what I want to feel clashes up against what I actually do feel. Other times I can’t decipher exactly what I think or feel. Then there are the overlapping, opposing emotions running around up there. All of which are heightened by a natural uproar. Somehow nature’s dramatics heighten my confusion. I can’t straighten out my insides & the untamed outdoors gives the mess a false significance. Querulous suppositions that might otherwise pass are given weight. Being aware of this does nothing to lessen the frustration. One can’t logic their way out of a metaphorical brick in the stomach.
Thus tonight I am in flux. Craziness swirls beyond my bedroom window & behind my eyes. I can’t unpick the tangle. Perhaps I’ll know what I feel tomorrow
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We once again find ourselves in this strange liminal time between one big day & the next. A time I spend mostly in my jammies eating whatever does not require cooking. All the while feeling somewhat discombobulated. Since I am struggling to keep track of the days or my own thoughts, I’m going to leap into a little flight of fancy.
For no apparent reason I am finishing the year with an ode to Ian Hislop. I love the man. He does occasionally rankle me with his SNP mockery, but I simply can’t help adoring him anyway.
His editorship at Private Eye makes the magazine one of life’s essentials. A fortnightly dose of punctured hypocrisy is needed more than ever. Whilst Have I got Got News for You brings weekly shot of joy.
I am drawn to his wit. I find his brand of comical judgement irresistible. A man who knows his classics & can still laugh at himself bowls me over. As does a sense of genuine decency. Mr Hislop possesses all of the above.
His cute face turning stern as he crushes a corrupt politician sets my heart a flutter. My attraction only grows as he grows older and more crumply. In 30 years of fandom I have yet to discover any truly unpleasant views. He is a shining of example of the rare ‘nice man’.
His enduring marriage both confirms my belief in his eligibility and damns my hopes of ever catching his twinkly eye. I am a sucker for a man who can maintain a happy long term relationship. It is certainly not conducive to capturing objects of my affection since their interest in me would immediately destroy the family man qualities that attracted me. Alas, I cannot help but admire a loyal husband.
Embarrassing a Tory Mp on national television will always win you my affection. So too will being a cat person evidenced by the appearance of Colin during lockdown. Hankering for men who embrace their oddities has always been my thing. Thus I cannot help be enamoured with Ian’s proud ownership of interests that others seek to mock.
Though he will never be mine, I shall forever yearn for the esteemed satirist. A slightly unusual intellectual with basic human goodness lights my fire. You can keep your hunks & rocks stars. I want the little guy with integrity and an uncanny ability to give powerful people a tongue lashing.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
Something in the way she moves... 
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