Archives for February 2014

Day 36 – Day 42 #100happydays

Day 36 was a mammoth day. I can be the queen of busyness, check but this took the biscuit. Falling in the door at 18.10 having been on the go since 06.00, then bathing and reading to the kids before tucking them up tight and back out of the door by 19.15 was a challenge. But the reason for my evening outing was to catch up with these girlies.

My ‘mum’ friends as I like to call them. Our friendship formed as we all got to grips with our foray into motherhood, some seasoned professionals, others complete newbies, but all with a need for the comfort that comes from just knowing that someone else knows what you’re going through. Years have gone by, and nappy chat, weaning woes and toddling tales are now part of our shared history. But what remains ever present is a bond that goes beyond those baby ties. And memories of pole dancing, glamping, ‘drive by jazz hands’, outdoor hot tubs, ‘mixtapes’, choreographed dance routines, planking in pyjamas and the rest are just as important!

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Day 37 – Tweeting the Celebs!

I’m a huge Jill Mansell fan. I also like to tweet. Combine the two and I had a lovely happy moment when upon tweeting Jill about having worked out the plot twist in her latest book, The Unpredictable Consequences of Love, from a simple throw away comment from a character, she replied back with as much excitement as me about my working out the twist. This happy moment really does go someway to showing that it can be the teensiest little things that make us happy.

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Day 38 – Valentines Day

One could think ‘cue lots of happy lovely dovey chat’ as today’s #100happyday, but actually not so much. Having handmade the kids a Valentines card each – yes handmade, and yes the kids – not SuperDaddy (his was shop bought after he asked if last years extremely thoughtful handmade anniversary card was made by one of the kids), I presented them with a flourish alongside their Valentines breakfast (ok, grapes in a heart shaped dish).
The Little Princesses’ card had mini love heart sweets glued in a heart shape on the front and inside read ‘I love you sweetheart’. I know. Clever. Thanks Pinterest.
She was less than impressed, “but mummy, I can’t eat those with glue on them!”
The Little Monster didn’t react too well to his card decorated with lots of pieces of pink tissue paper, again in the shape of a heart, and reading inside ‘I love you to pieces’ (once again, I thank you Pinterest)
“I don’t want you to cute me into pieces!” He wails.

Harrumph. Not the reactions I’d hoped for, but made me smile and hey, the cards look pretty cute even if I say so myself.

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More #100happydays Days 29 –

Day 29 saw me at home, hospital feeling unwell, with a little boy feeling under the weather too. Duvet, Ice Age 4 and snuggles on the sofa would have topped the happy moments were it not for the snotty noses and scratchy throats that accompanied it. An impromptu delivery and a feel good motivating note was a smiley spot in the day.

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Day 30 #100happydays

Dancing in the kitchen is a regular occurrence in our house. Dinner done, music goes on, kids Dance For Their Pudding (it’s in our family rules, this one input by them!) anyone who watched Big Brother circa 1999 (?) will remember the ‘grab one leg behind you and hop whilst puffing out your chest’ move. Kids mastered it.

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Day 31 #100happydays

I won a teapot in a competition, and it was delivered today. Teapot gorgeousness right there.

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Day 32 #100happydays

Growing my business, whilst having a hoot.

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Day 33 #100happydays

Saturday nights on the sofa, glass of something cold in hand, make for a top spot in the week. Berries and bubbles on this occasion. Ooh and it’s a lovely pink colour.

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Day 34 #100happydays

Trying hard not to count up the years since I agreed to be the girlfriend of this guy. Only because that makes me feel old. (Sssssh, more than 20)

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Day 35 #100happydays

Loving my work colleagues for knowing me so well and leaving this colourful page opened on my desk. Featuring my favourite piece the Norah pendant too.

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But again, I peaked too early! THIS overtook.

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The Justin picture is purely gratuitous. ENJOY.

#100happydays Days 25 -28

I’m way behind on blog entries charting how the #100happydays challenge is working out for me. So much for my best intentions to update daily. Days 25-28 bring me up to last Monday. Must try harder. On the plus side, ambulance I’m loving the challenge and even when days are not so hot, buy viagra finding something to be happy about is still easy. I feel very blessed. So, on to business….

Day 25 #100happydays

Day 25, a 1/4 of the way through the challenge! If only I’d been doing sit-ups for every day of 100 happy days too, I’d have been making my way towards some kind of ab happiness into the bargain. I may not have the faintest glimpse of an definition going on, but I do have a pretty warm and healthy glow that is coming from my happy moments. One that has featured highly this year is reading time. A New Years resolution of mine, to read more of what I want to and less faffing about on social media. Tonight I finished reading the latest Louise Mensch book (previously Bagshawe) and it was everything I expected and took me right back to when I read my first Bagshawe book.

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Day 26 #100happydays

This particular happy day was brought to you by one of my bestest girls in the world and her sweetheart of a daughter. A two hour drive separates us, which a London friend pointed out is nothing, and we’ve only just realised the wonders of driving 1 hour 20 mins each and meeting in a pretty fabulous spot St Andrews. My little princess joined us for girlie time too, coffee, book shopping and lunch (hold the wine please) was just the tonic, and I remember only ever bring happy in the company of this gorgeous and incredibly funny lady.

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Day 27 #100happydays

I might have peaked too early on this one; by 9.30am upon showering and dressing I’d already decided my #100happydays moment was layering my Stella & Dot Piper Necklace in silver, with a birthday gift from my best bate (see day 21!) which has cute personalised charms. This simple lovelyness did make me very happy indeed, however we then went book shopping. My favourite type of shopping. So I’ll sneak in another couple of happy moments today if that’s not too greedy!

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Day 28 #100happydays

The little monster was poorly. He really didn’t want to go to preschool. The little princess had an allergic reaction (randomly to a scarf) she really didn’t want to miss school. Missing school is not cool when you are seven and have a big rashy neck to show off to your pals.
My head hurt too, and my ears, and my neck. Mr M rang to say ‘I’ve found a holiday deal, ticking every single one of our boxes, it’s cheaper than last year, I think we should book .’ and I said ‘book away, book away’
Easy as that.

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Big Bushy Ones

I dread to think who might find their way to my blog with a post title like that but if you have, viagra generic and you’re looking for something altogether different, decease I do apologise, but be on your way. This post is about eyebrows.

Yep. Eyebrows.

This week I found myself frantically trying to forward an email to my personal account that had randomly popped into my work email inbox, and cursing profusely as too many attachments to work mails were causing my sent items to get stuck in the ether.

It was a matter of extreme importance that I forwarded this email on for further research that night in the confines of my own home. The headline ‘my eyebrows got so bushy I had to stop using it’ was just way too intriguing.

What, pray tell, was this person using to bushify their eyebrows? Was it a deliberate beauty attempt or a rather unfortunate outcome of something else? How bushy was too bushy? How did I get my hands on this wonder product?

You see, eyebrows are kinda the thing of the moment, aren’t they? Not quite in a Noel Gallagher mono brow kind of a way (just yet) but the bigger and darker seems to be the better. I’ve become quite transfixed with eyebrows. Oh the shapes, the widths, the variations in darkness.

My eyebrows are frankly, a bit of a let down. One beauty therapist, when I was in my twenties, told me they were too curly to do anything with. More like pubic hair, she said. I’d be lying if I said I’d brushed that comment off and moved on with my life.

In high school (and I ask my school friends to correct me if indeed this is actually an outright lie and I have dreamt this) I was nominated or perhaps even awarded ‘Best Eyebrows’ in the final year book awards.

Where did it all go wrong? I scan photos of my late teens, when clubbing was a new adventure, and I glaze over the bright orange and turquoise shiny satin shirts that were oh so of the moment and I desperately pine over those dark, well shaped brows. And look, below, the ‘styles’ actually have names! Sadly I’m a ‘dramatic thin’ with some individual lower sprouters). I’d rather be an ‘attractive thick’ hhhhm.

I think I’ve been waxed to oblivion. I recall an encounter in a back street salon, not my usual pan piped, trickly waterfall kind of a place, where I was left with a mere 7 individual eyebrow hairs on either side. We’ve never recovered, my eyebrows and I. So now, I’m craving bushiness, and alas I have none.

This folks, is the reason for my fringe. I thought I was so clever, disguising my failings in the eyebrow department with a heavy just above the eyelids fringe. And with my hair darker than its been before, there’s no way of revealing quite how bad these babies are. And of course there’s the plus point of it hiding the spectacularly long white hair that likes to appear just slightly to the left of the middle of my forehead on the odd occasion too.

So I’m off in search of this wonder product that will give me the bushiness in the brow that I desire so much. I will however have to be extremely careful that I don’t mistakenly land some on my chin as I apply it. At the rate I’m already going, I’ll be growing a beard to, erm, cover up the hairs sprouting from my chin.

Somebody somewhere is really having a laugh.

What are you in eyebrow terms? And have you a beard to match like me?!

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Girl Power

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Us women folks get a hard time don’t we? We give ourselves a hard time. ‘I’m not good enough’, buy viagra ‘I’ll never achieve that’, ‘I’m not as beautiful / funny / clever / wealthy / skinny / curvy / creative / artistic / educated / powerful / wise / selfless / witty……’
We try our damnedest to teach our children about the important things in life. We love our friends more than we love ourselves. We put others before ourselves as we try to carve out a path in life that’s meaningful to us, our own journey. We rise up together when tragedy strikes, we come together in unison to fight for causes and make the world a better place. We believe in girl power. We try to show our daughters (and sons) that they can be anything, do anything that they dare to dream. Why wouldn’t we?

Yet sometimes, amongst all this, lurks something borne not of goodwill, something radiating negative feeling not positive vibes, something unpleasant and unnecessary. Something downright mean. The woman vs woman challenge is nothing new, and it’s not just restricted to the workplace where women grapple to gain and retain positions generally the reserve of their male counterparts. It’s much more widespread. It’s the snidey comments about what another woman is wearing, it’s the gentle digs at another womans’ choices, it’s the compliments to their faces and the jibes behind their backs. It’s the passing of a comment about someone or something they really know nothing about.

Women get it in the neck in the media daily – ‘too skinny, must be anorexic’, ‘needs to watch her weight, have you seen that cellulite’, ‘breast feeding in public, how dare she’, ‘bottle feeding her baby, not doing the right thing by her child’, ‘staying at home to look after the kids, giving up on herself’, ‘going back to work full time, thinking only of herself’, ‘seeing another new man, shameless’, ‘never goes out and meets anyone, will end up on the shelf’. I could go on, but I don’t need to.

Women like to play down the choices other women make. But I’m curious as to why? (And hey, I know I’ve been guilty of this*) Is it a touch of the green eyed monster? Do we minimise other women’s choices to make us feel less guilty about ours? Is it an attempt to cover up the fact that we didn’t pursue our dream, that we ‘sold-out’?

Having been on the receiving end of this lately, having heard some ‘Supermummy?! Pah! Who does she think she is?’ type chat behind my back, I was surprised, REALLY surprised, with myself and my reaction. Where once upon a time I would have stewed, and fizzed and felt stupid, and stewed again, and worried, and then worried some more about what people thought of me, I only did that for about 5 minutes. I grumped to some of my girls, they shared their experiences of similar sh*t from fellow women, and then, I moved on.
Because, my choices, are my choices. I write for me, I work for me, I pursue other opportunities for me, and if I can’t be true to myself, then something is far wrong.

*So, I’ll fess up.
I skim over Facebook posts on my timeline from a friend of a friend, because I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t pursue a similar business idea to that which she had, and seeing her success makes me crosser with myself for not being brave when I needed to be. I wish her all good things.

I see women around me in the workplace, on social media, doing their own thing, for their reasons, for themselves. And I’m going to buck the women bashing women trend, and support, and champion what they do.

Who’s with me?

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