Say NO To Valentine’s Day

Did I read that right? You may be wondering. What on earth is this crazy (but cute *wink*) Bunny going on about? Well my dear lovely readers allow me to explain a little. Pull up a chair and I shall tell all. Maybe have a cup of tea or glass of wine, just incase you are in need of refreshment. I know I am.


Valentine’s Day is overrated, in my opinion. I am happily married but really don’t see the appeal of this over-the-top day. Historically, it is a day to celebrate a saint but over the years it has turned into this heart-shaped EVERYTHING love fest. There are cards to be bought, presents to be given and chocolates to be eaten. A day to celebrate love. Excuse me a moment while I throw up. Oh, I have nothing against love, I am a soppy romantic at heart. But I hate the pressure that this day brings. Did you get a good enough card this year? Who got the most expensive gift? Which restaurant will be the most romantic to dine in? Will ten thousand candles be enough? Is that heart shaped petal arrangement on the bed a bit wonky? Surely everyday you should show loved ones that you love them? Not just wait until society deems one day more appropriate? Better go buy some roses and a card with appalling poetry in. Lord Byron would not approve.


When I was single I would spend Feb 14th camped out in front of the tv with a bottle of wine, watching typical romantic movies and doing my best Bridget Jones impression. I felt like utter crap because I didn’t have a boyfriend to woo with candles and a trail of fake rose petals leading to the boudoir. I felt ugly, fat, questioned why anyone would love me as I sobbed into my second tub of Ben and Jerry’s. I hated myself and all because of a stupid day that means nothing. Well apart from the actual point of it, hello celebration of a saint people! Can we have some cake over here please? I believe it was while I was at university that I realised that I didn’t have to be part of the whole charade. I was out clubbing it up with some mates, busting out the chicken dance when the DJ shouted out about it being Valentine’s Day. I had been so caught up in life in a new city, coursework deadlines and enjoying myself that I had completely forgotten it was Valentine’s Day. And that’s when it hit me. Why not just treat it as any other day? Why not just go on with my life and ignore the obnoxious freak feast that is Valentine’s Day. I mean, it’s like you need to be a special member in order to celebrate it. You have to be in love and shower your partner with gifts of affection that we all know will end up in the bin before the day is out. Do they really need a mug saying WORLD’S BEST LOVER in the kitchen. Imagine if you accidentally gave that mug to your nan if she came over for tea? Awkward! Does making a big gesture on Valentine’s Day mean that you love your partner more than you would on any other day? Hell no! Everyday showing your love should be celebrated. Waking them up with cups of tea, leaving little notes for them to find in their lunch and simply telling them everyday that you love them. That is what we should celebrate, but privately. Between the sheets and in the arms of our lover. Not rubbing it in people’s faces that we have been lucky to find someone and making them feel like they never will. I still can’t believe that I am married with two boys. I had been single for most of my life and was always the one that had on/off boyfriends. But I just accepted it and got on, enjoyed myself and then BAM I met my Panda. It was at the right time and it was perfect. So, if you’re single on this horrible day please, please do not buy that microwave dinner for one with a cheap bottle of prosecco to down while you watch The Notebook. Go out and see your friends, or do something that you enjoy. Read a book, play a game, have a relaxing bubble bath even, but do not feel bad about not having someone. You are beautiful and perfect just the way you are and believe me, they are out there. You will meet, just not yet. So until you do. Enjoy yourself and take pride in who you are. Use this day to celebrate you!


Me and my husband treat Valentine’s Day as any other day. We don’t buy each other presents or cards. We just don’t believe in it. When we first started dating we did but since then we don’t see the big deal as we know our love is real and a card is not going to make it any more real than us saying it. We tell each other everyday and still can’t get enough of each other. We don’t buy our love. We live it, breathe it and share it with one another. But that’s just us as a couple. Every couple is different. If you celebrate it, then good for you, nothing wrong with it. Personally it’s just not my thing. I will be saying NO to Valentine’s Day. No thank you, I do not choo choo choose you! I will be making pizzas with my boys and watching horror films with my panda as we giggle at the bad acting while stuffing our faces with nachos.


I hope you all have a fabulous week and don’t overthink this coming Tuesday. It’s just a day, an ordinary day! Here is a little video to help survival this annoying day. Enjoy!


hop wiggle wiggle.

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More Than A Mother?

I have never been more proud of my multi-tasking skills than since becoming a mother. At the moment I am rocking my youngest in his rocker with my foot while I am drinking tea, bobbing to music, balancing my laptop on my lap and typing this. Go me! There should be an Olympic gold medal for multi-tasking. I am about 80% sure I would win.


Since becoming a mother there have been times where I have questioned who I am. So much changes when you become responsible for a tiny human (Cabbit, Mogwai) and your days are crammed with trips to the park, learning colours with an annoyingly high-pitched pig and endless amounts of baking. Not a complaint, I love being outside and baking. Could do without the pig though. That blasted pig does my head in. I swear if she say’s her name is Peppa Pig one more time, just once! I will flip! I can’t stand her, yet my child absolutely adores the show. I am hoping that it is mainly because of George and Mr. Dinosaur. Or even better, Grandpa Pig and Gertrude! Not Peppa. She is a very selfish, annoying whiny pig. Very much like children in general (at times). HA! I have just realised I have gone on a rant about a badly animated pig. Oh dear. So this is my life now?


But as I was saying. It’s a struggle finding time for yourself to do things that you enjoy. I miss reading all day with endless cups of tea and a cheeky slice of carrot cake that doesn’t have tiny dents from being prodded at by a small person. It’s so difficult trying to find that balance of being a mother but also still being yourself. Because it often feels like the general rule is that when you become a mother, this title is all you are now. You are no longer the funny one who once got thrown out of a nightclub for climbing over a toilet cubicle or have the most ridiculous stories about all of your worst dates you’ve been on. No, you are meant to be just mum and that’s that. Of course a lot changes when you become a mother but should it change who you are? Your responsibilities and priorities are different now but does that mean you should stop being yourself and be this shell of a woman who talks all day long about poop and nappy rash? Never have I once done that. Why would I bore people with these details, it’s not me. I’d rather talk about how proud I am of my child but not boast. It is true that once you have children your life does revolve around them, of course it does. They can’t take care of themselves, and even when they have moved out and got a job, you’ll probably worry yourself silly about them at times. Hopefully you’ll be able to be confident in how good a job you’ve done raising them to look after themselves so you CAN relax at times. BUT and this is a big but, you as a person do not have to change. You are still you. You are still a daughter, a lover, a wife, a friend and now a mother. We as mothers shouldn’t feel like we should have to pigeonhole ourselves just because we have created life. We can still go out and have a good time, laugh till we cry and do embarrassing dance moves on the dance floor. As long as your children are safely looked after. I’m not suggesting you be irresponsible and just abandon them for a couple glasses of wine.You owe it to yourself and your children to still be the person you are. To indulge in your own hobbies and passions. You now just have more love to give to your little monsters of course. More memories to make, more experiences to be had and of course more cake to be eaten. There’s always a lot of birthdays when you have children.


Should I feel guilty for still wanting to be me and not just a mother? Of course not! That would be utterly insane. I love my boys, truly utterly love them. I would kill for them. They always come first before anything else and always will.

I hate this narrow-minded view of what life is like when you have children. The amount of articles that keep popping up all over the internet is sickening. People act like once you have children that that’s it, the end. The romance is dead, you no longer take care of yourself and as for sex? Well you can forget about that. Know what I say to that? Bollocks! Excuse my language but it is utter nonsense. Everyone is different, every family is different. To say that is what happens to everyone is just ludicrous. Life does change but it is down to you as a person whether it is for the better or worse. It depends on you as a person. I still do a lot of things I did before our boys came along. I still dance badly around the house when no one’s in (sometimes I dance with the boys) watch bad horror films, play games with my husband, and *shock horror*, still have a sex life. We just now have two amazing boys to show the world to and get to help them on their journey through life. I’m not saying it’s all flowers and pink fluffy unicorns everyday, as we all know life can be a horrible little bitch. Some days they do nothing but cry, or throw their food all over the floor because it’s not in the shape of that stupid pig! But we wouldn’t be human if those days didn’t happen would we? How boring would life be if it was Instagram perfect everyday. We as humans have emotions and quite rightly go from a very happy high to a very depressing low and all that wonderful array of emotion between those extremes. It’s natural and we should never ever beat ourselves up about it. A good cry into your bucks fizz never hurt anyone. We feel and should never be ashamed about it.


What was I trying to say in this blog? That was it. Remember (if you are a mother) that you are more than a mother. Being a mum is fantastic but it’s only a part of who you are. You are still creative, stubborn, and a soppy romantic (if you’re like me). Embrace who you are and never hide behind a mask because you feel like it’s not socially accepted or expected of you. Life is too short, horrible cliché that I hate but it is. Live your life as you, no one else.


I wonder if this comes across as selfish? Like I said, I love my boys and love being their mother. But that title is not all I am. I am a mother, lover, wife, daughter, friend, bunny queen, doughnut eater, olympic tea drinker, bookworm, writer, I am me. Bunny!


A small P.S. for once (and yes my own Dad, my husband and his father may have been inspiration for this): Fathers out there, don’t think that what I’m saying doesn’t apply to you too, ESPECIALLY those father’s who are stay at home dad’s, simply heavily involved OR those poor individuals who all but give up to their stereotypes and have little-to-no family life in the pursuit of providing for their families. BOTH we wonderful mothers and you, the lovely fathers EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US!!! We all deserve to be happy with our families and to STILL be US! Please don’t ever forget who you are because society tells you otherwise.

Hop hop wiggle wiggle.

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Happy 3rd Birthday Cabbit!

Three years! Three years today and I was giving birth to our amazing gorgeous and cheeky son. Wow! Time has just whizzed past us these past few years. So much has happened. Some good, and some bad. I still can’t believe that I am a mother. Me! It doesn’t feel that long ago that I was playing grown ups with my toy Tommy (from the Rugrats of course) and Tiny Tears dolls pretending to be a mother. And now here I am, years later. A mum to two boys! Just, WOW!!


I’m still not sure if being a mother is something that naturally happens or that you learn to become? I think it’s a bit of both. You definitely feel a strong bond with your child and would kill for them like a lioness protecting their cubs. But you also learn how to be the mum in you. Make sense? What works best for other mothers may not work for you. Only you (and their father of course) know what is best for your little monster. Everyone is different so of course every parenting style is going to be different. You can’t learn how to be a parent overnight and definitely not from a book no matter how many you read. You learn and grow with your child. It’s a beautiful nightmare at times with the screaming and the crying. But there are the moments when you are laughing together, playing and cuddling up under a blanket watching a film. Sweet loving moments that make you realise why you had children and can’t imagine life without them. I am getting all soppy now and teary! moving on.


Cabbit’s birth was difficult and I won’t bore you with the details. At the time it was traumatic but in these three years I have learned with how to accept it is what it is and move on. Now I look back at it and smile because it was the birth of my first son. I don’t see the horror story that I told myself for so long. I see my son smiling at me as he was placed on my chest for skin to skin contact. I hear my husband singing A Perfect Circle to him as his first lullaby and I feel the love as we all cuddled each other for the first time as a family. My c-section scar is a scar I wear proudly because it’s a symbol of how my son entered this world. People feel sorry for c-section mothers and automatically assume it means they didn’t give birth. Couldn’t be further from the truth. We did give birth. End of. We may not have had a natural birth but WE DID GIVE BIRTH to our babies. A different kind of birth yes but still a birth. Apologies if that sounds angry but I do get annoyed with the pity comments when people hear about a c-section birth. Don’t get me wrong, giving birth naturally is hard work! I got to experience that with my second born but at the end of the day, no matter how we mothers gave birth, we are still bringing life into this world. We are still giving birth. I should probably stop staying the word birth!


Anyway. Cabbit is 3! He is still a cheeky little monster that makes me laugh. Boy does he make me laugh. He has such a wicked sense of humour and an infectious laugh. I hope that never changes as he gets older. Such a strange thought, to think he will be a teenager one day and then an adult. Scary! But for now I am enjoying every tantrum, every laugh and every day with my son. It’s true and cliché that they really do grow up quick. Soon he will be going to nursery five days a week and then school then college if he wants to and after that who knows?! What I do know is that his father and I will support him no matter what he decides to do. There will be no pressure but he will not take the Mick. A nice balance I think, yin and yang.


Boy’s Birthday Cake! BATMAN!

Today will be spent opening presents, making pizza, seeing our friend E-pony and eating cake. Just enjoying the day as a family and celebrating our oldest child’s birthday.


I am starting to feel a little teary. Oh god! I need a doughnut and some tea!

Hop hop wiggle wiggle


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Happy Belated New Year! Hello 2017, Nice To Meet You!

Wow when did that happen? 2017 already! And almost half way through the month! Crazy! I hope you all had a marvellous Christmas eating too much,spending time with family slumped in front of the telly and eating too much. One can never have just the one mince-pie, no no no, it has to be at least a hundred or so. And you can never really have too much chocolate or cheese and crackers. It’s the one time of the year where you go “Right body, I have been dieting and starving myself all year, time to indulge and go mad!” Besides, we are only going to attempt to lose it all in the new year. That’s what resolutions are for, right?


I have never really liked New Years resolutions. I have just always found that it’s too much pressure on me, that it makes me feel like a failure if I scoff a cheeky doughnut or miss a workout because I’d rather sleep. It’s horrible as I am sure you know. I think it’s because we set our standards so high. We are all determined that the new year will bring a new us, a new outlook on life and a fresh start! Wrong! It can only bring self-doubt and self loathing as we realise that we can’t change who we are overnight. Why would you want to? You are unique because you are you. Anyway people never really change, we can’t. We can change our perspective though and how we handle things. We as humans are always aiming to better ourselves whether it’s our minds or bodies, we are always seeking out new and exciting ways to live a better life. We want to make the best of life and strive to be the best we can be. However expecting to achieve all of that in such a short space of time is a little unrealistic. We set resolutions to kick ourselves up the butt to join a gym for a year but only go for a month and then never again. To throw out all the naughty food to only find ourselves shoving spoonfuls of peanut butter down our throat at 3 am because we want to TASTE something. To get a new hair style and hate it within seconds of leaving the hairdresser’s and spend the rest of the month wearing a hat so no one can see it. Need I go on? Just a few reasons why I think personally New Years resolutions are that bad joke that keeps appearing in your Christmas cracker year after year. Anyone remember the Christmas episode of the Vicar Of Dibley where she has THREE Christmas dinners and the same joke in her cracker at each one? Like that!

So for the past few years instead of setting myself resolutions that will never be achieved, I set myself goals. Tiny, little goals to help me become the best of myself and achieve the things that I want to achieve. Not because society says so but because they are things that I want to do. Want to hear them? No? Tough! *sticks out tongue* Here they are!

1.) Try not to comfort eat! Eat when I am actually hungry! and maybe try to eat more greens as I do like my veg. Be a bit more healthy but don’t become a health nut! I like CAKE and will not eat a carrot instead! Just the one slice instead of 3 or 4… or compromise with carrot cake.



2.) Find an exercise that is fun to do. Like dancing around in my kitchen to cheesy pop music when no one is at home or giving yoga a go. Something fun and not boring. Can running around after two boys count?



3.) Write more! Whenever I get the chance, write write WRITE!



4.) Read more! The same here too! READ!!!



5.) Play more Pokémon! In fact play more games! Finding the time is difficult but even if it’s just a few minutes a day or so, play!


and last but not least

6.) Stop feeling bad about yourself! Be confident, embrace the person I am, don’t beat myself up if I have a bad day. They happen. Accept it and move on.


And that’s about it I think. Just a few little goals that I would like to achieve this year. If I don’t then I don’t. I won’t feel guilty or like a failure. I am only human and will make mistakes. It’s how I handle life that is the main thing.

Now, where’s my secret stash of chocolate? That’s the problem of it being a secret stash, I can’t remember where I put it so little hands can’t gobble it up! AHHH!

Hop hop wiggle wiggle

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The Story of Mogwai’s Arrival

A month ago today I was feeling a bit out of sorts. You just know when something’s not right within your own body. We have that instant instinct the minute something’s up. We just know. No one knows our bodies better than ourselves. How could they? It’s our body. Always listen to it and be its friend people! If it’s trying to tell you something, LISTEN!


This blog post is about BIRTH so there will be mentions of bodily fluids and such. Maybe too much information for your liking so if that is the case I suggest having a cup of tea and doing what makes you feel happy. Mine would be hiding away with a book or doing a spot of writing. See you next time if you decided to go no further. I wouldn’t blame you! This is going to be a long blog post.



It all started around about 07:30 in the morning. I was getting stronger contractions that didn’t feel like Braxton Hicks and feeling a bit urgh. Not a very good way to describe it I know but that is honestly how I was feeling, urghhhh! It wasn’t until 9ish that I lost my mucous plug and thought “Oh sh*t! Is this it? Am I going to go into labour soon?” For people who may not know, losing your mucous plug can be a sign that things may be about to start happening. “What is a mucous plug?” I hear some of you ask. Well from around seven weeks in early pregnancy a plug of mucous seals your cervix to help prevent infection – hence the name, mucous plug. Lovely eh? So after seeing mine in the toilet bowl, I started to panic a little. Especially as my contractions where getting stronger and closer together. Husband rang the midwives and because of my previous experience with birth they called me into the hospital to double-check everything was ok. Now, if you didn’t know, we had just moved to Scotland and had planed to go to the dump on this day. Did we just ignore all the boxes and rubbish bags lined up ready in the hallway and just rush off to the hospital? Nope! I insisted we went to the dump to get rid of our crap. Yep. Seriously, that is what we did before going to the hospital. Sound’s crazy doesn’t it but I convinced my husband that we would have time to go and it would make things easier for when I come home after giving birth. You don’t argue with a heavily pregnant bunny and so we shoved my hospital bag, the boy and our dump run into the car and drove to our local tip. As I sat in the car while husband offloaded I kept trying to keep calm and take deep breaths in and out. The contractions where getting closer and closer and I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out. I didn’t want to scare the boy in the backseat who was blissfully unaware of what was happening. His innocent smile got me through it. I thought this will be a most amusing thing to tell our children when they are older. Mummy goes into labour but insists on going to the dump first because she is too damned house proud! Yes, I realise now that it was foolish of me. Imagine if I had given birth at the dump! Now that would be a tale to tell.


The minute the last black bag was dumped, husband raced back into the car and sped (without breaking the speed limit) to the hospital which is about a 45minute drive away. JOY! Luckily we knew where we were going as we had previous hospital appointments in the week. The midwives said I could be dropped off at the side door and ring the buzzer to be let in to save me waddling though the entire hospital to the labour ward. No one can ever tell you exactly what to expect when excepting. It’s just impossible. I had no idea I would be really breathy and struggle to string a sentence together. When I arrived at the buzzer, I struggled to say who I was, I literally forgot my own name temporarily and was a bumbling mess. The contractions were getting worse and each sharp stab made me want to just cry. Lucky for me the midwives are used to dealing with pregnant woman (DUH) and buzzed me in. I was showed to a hot sticky waiting room and grabbed the nearest chair to concentrate on my breathing. I felt like I was waiting for hours to be seen. Before long husband and son joined me which helped distract me from the pain. I already knew that if this was the real deal they would not be allowed into the delivery room. I would have to give birth alone. Something that terrified me. But I couldn’t focus on that too much. I was just trying to survive the next minute. When I was finally seen to (although realistically in hindsight I don’t think I was waiting that long, it just felt like it) I felt like screaming. I honestly wanted to just scream “GIVE ME THE DRUGS” like a crazy woman while shaking the midwife. After the routine questions, they stuck monitors on me and told me to press a button whenever Mogwai kicked. This went on for about 30-ish minutes before they decided to examine me. However, I desperately needed to pee so was allowed to rush to the toilets. Any guesses as to what happened next? Anyone? I will give you a minute to think about it…give up? Well firstly my son knocked on the door to check I was ok which just made me melt. He’s just too darn cute! Secondly, my waters broke on the toilet. There was a sudden POP and then a gush and I just knew that they had broken. The second that happened, my contractions became the next circle of hell! I honestly couldn’t believe that they had broken but was just grateful that it had happened over the toilet and not out in public for all to see. Imagine if it had happened while in Tesco or something. “Clean up in aisle 4” much! I told the midwife what happened, they checked to see how dilated I was and was taken straight up to labour ward. Not scary at all…*sarcasm alert*


The thing about being pregnant is you get so used to people seeing your most private parts (and prodding and poking at you with various devices/implements) that you don’t hesitate to drop your knickers when asked (by a professional). I never thought I would be so willing to just take off my clothes and let them do what they’ve got to do. They honestly don’t care what underwear you’re wearing or if you have forgotten to shave. They don’t really pay attention to that, it’s more about doing their job and getting on with it. So if you are ever worried or concerned about doctors or nurses looking at your lady parts for whatever health reason. Please don’t. Smear tests for us woman are so important! Don’t refuse to go to them because you are scared. It’s not worth the risk. I totally understand that it’s a scary thing and super uncomfortable. But please don’t worry about it. Your health is much more important. And besides, they see about a hundred foo-foos a week! (my word for vagina! Vagina is such a harsh sounding word I find) They won’t remember yours by lunchtime. Trust me. But yes, as I was saying. I was wheeled to labour ward in a wheelchair and before I knew it, I was helped into a classic oversized hospital nighty and breathing in the old gas and air. I had to say goodbye to my boys at the door and just wanted to burst into tears. I so wanted to have my husband there, supporting me while I yelled abuse at him and death-gripped his hand. But alas I knew that it was impossible and he waited in the corridor with our son listening to my screams and comforting the boy. I can’t remember how far dilated I was but from what I gathered from the midwives between screams was that I was contracting extremely fast and Mogwai wanted to come out. I remember the pain from when I went into labour with Cabbit (before his heartbeat dropped and I was rushed into theatre) but nothing can prepare you for when it actually hits. It’s excruciating and one of the worst feelings you will feel in the world. It happens in such short sharp bursts that by the time you recover from it, it’s happening all over again. What I find amusing is that after the midwives/doctors were so surprised at my pain threshold. They said I had a high pain threshold which impressed them. Let me tell you, that at the time it didn’t feel like it. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I felt like I was dying. Just that my insides where being stabbed repeatedly over and over again before slowly having the knife covered in salt and dragged over the fresh wound while being twisted in the most uncomfortable way possible.


I honestly do not know how I would have got through it all without my midwives. They were amazing! Especially one in particular who kept me calm and made me laugh. She was a star and I couldn’t thank her enough. The day after, she visited me in the ward to see how I was and I just wanted to hug her. I couldn’t at the time as I was bed-bound (all will become clear soon) so just kept thanking her. Truly lucky to have had someone like that there with me considering my partner in crime was occupied with our little monster.

When the time came I was told I could FINALLY push, the relief was indescribable. Up until this point I had been told not to which is believe it or not harder than it sounds. But yet there was a strange sense of relief each time I pushed Mogwai further to freedom. A sense that “Oh god this will soon be over and I can just collapse into a big mess of goo!” My husband later asked what it felt like giving birth and the only answer I could give him was “It’s like taking a big poo. You know that relief you feel once it’s out. Felt like that. Relief!” He of course laughed and I couldn’t believe I just described giving birth by comparing it to bowel movements but I was a mess so I will excuse myself for that one. But it was just that, relief. That final push and Mogwai was out, just like that. I heard his little cry and saw his beautiful big eyes looking around curiously wondering why he had been pulled from his nice warm haven. Midwives and doctors were still going about their jobs making sure I was ok and routine checks but all I could focus on was my beautiful baby boy. Once he was sorted and checked over they placed him on me and my heart exploded. He was so delicate and soft, so much innocence about him. The first words out of my mouth where “Can my husband and son come in now please?” Which of course they did once I was quickly cleaned up. Cabbit was amazing to his little brother. He pointed and said “Baby” and gave him a kiss on the head. I was so proud of him, he really is growing up so fast into a little gentleman. He still has a right filthy temper on him like me but in that moment he showed me how much of an awesome big brother he is going to be. Husband was in love with Mogwai like me and held him with pride as I sipped my tea and smiled at how much of a loving father he is. He really is a natural with fatherhood, it suits him and fits him well. It felt like I only saw my boys for a few seconds before they had to leave and return to the burrow without me and Mogwai. *sob* I don’t like hospitals at the best of times so being left alone in one over night was one of my worst nightmares. However I wasn’t alone anymore, I had Mogwai with me and we would get though it together. YAY Happy dance!


Just as I was about to relax after saying a tearful goodbye to my loved ones and dig into my toast they had thoughtfully brought me. The midwives started rushing around more and acting more panicky. They started getting concerned at the amount of blood I was losing and rushed specialist doctors in to check me over. At this point I was drugged up and in and out of it so was utterly confused about what was going on. Only when a doctor came to my side and said I would need to go into theatre and have my old c-section scar reopened did I become alert. Basically I was continuing to lose a lot of blood and they had no idea how. They were extremely concerned that it was something to do with my scar or part of the placenta was stuck. Ether way it was bad and it needed seeing to urgently. I have never been put under anaesthetic before and honestly was terrified. The thought of being knocked out after just giving birth and not having my husband there scared the sh*t out of me. Before I knew it I was wheeled off into theatre and had more doctors around me telling me who they were and what they were going to do. Comforting in a way but when one said there was a chance they would have to give me a hysterectomy, I panicked. The thought of not having the option of having any more children was horrible. We would, believe it or not love to have at least one more. Thankfully, that didn’t happen! *happy dance!* The last thing I remember was signing a few forms and the mask being put on me. I had that horrible fear that I think a lot of people have of waking up mid surgery. That would not be fun. Everything went black and I was gone in seconds.

When I woke up I had no idea where I was or how I got there. I was freezing and my teeth kept chattering uncontrollably. I had a few nurses around me mumbling something along the lines of “She’s having trouble coming round” All I knew was that my throat felt like sandpaper and I desperately wanted a drink. When I turned my head to my side I saw Mogwai sleeping next to me in a little cot. He was so peaceful and calm, like he knew I was there. I was so glad he was safe and back with me again. I hated being apart from him for so long. He was born around 6 in the evening and when I cam around from surgery it was 1 in the morning.


After what felt like hours I was wheeled to another ward. Literally I was wheeled in my bed. I had two young trainee male nurses look after me and they were wheeling me along like you would a shopping trolley. You know when you push it a little and stand on it, letting it take you with it? That’s what was happening to me. They asked if it was ok to do first, these two where very jack the lad types. Fart jokes and bigging themselves up, that sort of thing. I agreed as I didn’t see the harm and was so drugged up I thought I was dreaming. Everything was so hazy and blurry which is when I realised I haven’t had my glasses on the whole time since being at hospital. Idiot! But at least I was having a bit of fun being wheeled around. Weeeeeeeeeeeee!


After a much-needed drink and more routine tests, a midwife explained to me what had happened in surgery. They had fitted a small balloon inside my womb to keep pressure on the bleeding and help it stop. They are still confused what had caused the bleeding after investigating every possible source. It will forever remain a mystery! The only thing they knew for certain was that I had lost so much blood I was now anaemic and had to take iron tablets until my count was back up to normal. I am still on them now. I kept getting remarks about how pale I was and I just replied “I am quite pale naturally” It really confused me why this kept coming up. It wasn’t until the day I left that they actually told me about how much blood I had lost. Up until then I didn’t have a clue and things were still unclear. At least now I could pull off the Morticia Addams look!


After a few days in hospital I was finally allowed to go home. As lovely as the midwives were, nowhere is better than your own bed. I could not wait to get home and just properly relax. I am so lucky to have such a supportive husband as he had made the burrow as comfortable as possible for me and Mogwai. He had brought in my favourite food, little treats and continued to decorate the house so there was less work to stress over. He is a good panda to me and the boys. How do I deserve him? He’s just far too amazing!


Phew! That was a long blog post and it’s not even the half of it! Time has been flying so fast lately. I feel like the next time I blink I will be a blubbery mess at our son’s weddings! How has it already been a month since I gave birth? Feels like only yesterday I was pregnant and doing my best beached whale impression! But it’s all good. We are all adjusting to our new life in Scotland and the arrival of Mogwai. Especially Cabbit. He has taken to being a big brother so well. I couldn’t be more proud. There is still the odd tantrum but he is a toddler. Oh I do love my boys. I feel so lucky to have them in my life. So, so lucky!



Think I deserve a cup of tea after that. Or a big bottle of cider! Unfortunately being on pain relief 24/7 forbids me to touch a single drop. So for now it’s tea! But I’m not complaining. Means I have more of an excuse to have biscuits or a cheeky slice of cake with my cuppa.

Hop hop wiggle wiggle

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Moving To Scotland!

As I sip my iron bru, surveying the landscape of boxes before me, I can’t help but laugh maniacally to myself. Why did we decide to move to another country while I was heavily pregnant again? Oh right, that was it. Because we are mad! Mad as the mad hatter drinking endless cups of tea and celebrating unbirthdays with a hare and sleepy door mouse. I think it’s safe to say I would be the hare since I am a bunny. Husband the hatter and Cabbit the mouse. Ok, I have gone off on a tangent. Let’s try this show again.


Hello beautiful readers! I hope you are all well. The past weeks, months even, have just been non stop. We bought a house! In Scotland! Yes, that is as crazy as it sounds considering we lived in England and have no family or friends in Scotland. Just our last name, my husbands heritage. Very proud of it too. It will be just us 4, well 8 if you include 2 guinea pigs and 2 bunnies. How scary is that?


I had never been to Scotland before we started looking for our new burrow. My vision of it was lots of men in colourful skirts playing bagpipes in the cold and rain. Very narrow-minded of me I know, not to mention stereotypical. But I guess you watch so many movies and things are portrayed in a certain way it kinda sticks. Imagine my shock when I realised it was far from all that. As we approached the border I could see the outline of hills dusted with handfuls of heather and fog. A truly breathtaking sight as the sun was slowly peeking out behind them to welcome us to our new adventure in the highlands. As we drove further in it was ridiculously clear to see why people escape to this magical land. After a long day of house viewing we hopped to Loch Ness to feed Nessie and reflect on what could possibly be our new life. I swear the weather follows us at times as it was a gloriously sunny day with temperatures of 25 degrees. Again, I had never been to Loch Ness and have always been interested in seeing what all the fuss is about. Plus to see if I could spot the mythical beast that is Nessie. Well, what can I say. I fell in love. It sold me that this was the place for us to start our new chapter. It has become one of my favourite places to be. As we fed pebbles to Nessie I saw future picnics and happy family filled memories sway gently around me. The boys skipping stones together as me and hubby sip cider watching blissfully on and smiling at how glorious life can be. I felt at home. Not only that but the house we had just viewed was perfect for our growing family. For once in a long time things were slowly starting to fit together for us. It felt right. It felt like us.


Saying Hello To Nessie!


The Start Of Something New


Loch Ness ❤

After a lot and I mean a lot of talking we made one of the biggest decisions of our life to uproot and move to Scotland. AHHH! Scary yet exciting! We knew it would’t be an easy journey but when is it? Not to mention that if we were going to do this, I mean really do this it would be around the time of Mogwai’s birth. I would have to contact the local hospital, midwives, GP basically start all over again with a different health team. A big headache but totally worth it as I discovered that the health care team are a hell of a lot more helpful and friendly here. There is no scowling or rushing to get through your appointment because they couldn’t care less and want to pop out to fetch a panini. There’s a real sense of community and care that was blatantly absent down in London. Here I feel like I am talking to a friend and am not dismissed so easily. I feel like my voice is listened to and I am valued as a person. It may not be like that for everyone but that was just my experience of it all.


Our Life In Boxes


The Boy Helping Us Move

I hope I never fall out of love with Scotland. I think it’s impossible. It’s just, just breathtaking. A lot of people have questioned us with “But why Scotland?” Well, you have to really see it to see why. I can’t do it justice with mere words. The views, the weather, the people it’s all part of a gorgeously decorated cake that is too good to eat. You dare not cut a slice for it will ruin the whole effect yet you’re desperate to taste its spongey centre. It’s calling to you like a siren and you cant help but steal a cheeky bit of icing when no ones looking. And it’s everything you ever dreamed it would be. You can’t explain it but my god its the best damn cake you have ever tasted. I really want cake now.


Waking Up To This Every Morning, Yes Please!

It wasn’t until we had the keys in our paws that we took a minute to stop and think “Wow, this is really happening!” It’s crazy how fast things move once they are set in motion. Before we knew it we had boxed up our life and shoved it in a lorry to drive 600 miles to our new home. Between being heavily pregnant, having a small human in the backseat and animals we had plenty of pit stops. I believe it took us about 13 hours! At the time it didn’t feel that long but then again I was occupied with Starbucks and a DS with Pokemon.

But yes, Scotland! We are in you and here to stay. Now to sort out the house. Considering how fast things have moved and I was heavily pregnant (Mogwai has now been born! YAY!) we have got a lot done. Yet it doesn’t feel like it. It’s a strange feeling, we sort out one thing and then move on to next one but don’t take the time to sit back and congratulate ourselves on what we have achieved so far. Something my husband pointed out to me the other night. So here it is, just for us, well done! Take a break and have a cuppa before Mogwai wakes up or Cabbit starts demanding another trip to the park for the ten thousandth time today.


Home ❤

I hope you have enjoyed this little post, apologies for lack of online presence but with the move and birth it has been difficult finding a spare minute to sit down and blog. I am hoping that over the next few weeks things will slowly shape itself into a little routine and I can blog weekly again. I am dreaming big here, having two boys to run around after is more difficult than I thought. Not to mention sorting out our new home and discovering the local area. Oh life, you’ve got to love it!

Hop hop wiggle wiggle

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Where HaveYou Been? (37 Weeks Pregnant)

All over dear readers. Well only to Scotland and back but it feels like a lot more. It’s funny how you feel like you will forever be running down that never-ending path in the labyrinth going nowhere when BOOM a little worm appears and tells you the way, “Things aren’t always as they seem” Well, he tells Sarah the wrong way but you get what I mean. Everything seems to be happening at once, it’s madness. There has been so much going on that my blog has been a little neglected. Apologies. I hate not finding the time to sit down with a cup of tea and blog. So, without further ado here’s a quick catch up of the what’s been happening in this mad crazy thing I call my life.


We are moving to Scotland! In about a week or so! Don’t worry we didn’t just wake up one day and think “Scotland? Ok let’s go!” It has been in the works for many months and a lot of research, thinking and planning has been done. It has been such a big, tough decision for us to make, moving further away from our families but we are doing it for the right reasons for us. It’s such a beautiful Country and we can not wait to start the next chapter of our life there. EXCITED MUCH!!!!


I’m still pregnant! 37 weeks today! Mogwai is extremely happy and healthy kicking my insides. Hopefully he will decide to keep doing this until we have moved and will give us a bit of time to unpack a few boxes before making an appearance. People will think we are mad moving while I am this heavily pregnant but it makes a lot of sense to us. More importantly to me, as it’s down to what I feel comfortable with. So I keep being told. Moving while Mogwai is still all cosy and nestled in my womb just seems sensible to me. He’s in the safest place he can be. I can’t think of anything more stressful than moving to a new house with a newborn and a toddler while recovering from birth. If we are already there and have the stress of moving mostly over with, I think it would be a lot better. Don’t get me wrong I am well aware that it’s not going to be easy but I can at least try to help ease some stress before his grand arrival. Yep, I don’t make things easy for myself do I? (Grins like a crazy person)


Husband passed his degree! I am extremely proud of him! Some of the worst years of his life have happened while he has been at university but he has worked hard and finally finished. It’s not been an easy journey for him and I have no idea how he has kept going with everything that has happened. I know for a fact that if it was me, I would have crumpled and been at a complete loss. But he has stayed strong and determined. One of the many reasons why I love this panda. I honestly could not be more proud of him. Cheese! Yes extra cheese as always!


So yeah,I think that’s it, the main things anyway. A lot has been happening. Big things! My brain is confuzzled! (is that even a word? Now it is!) With pregnancy hormones going berserk, an endless list of what to pack, your normal aches and pains of pregnancy, oh and a toddler running riot! We will somehow get there. We will! It’s all a part of life isn’t it. Those special big shiny moments that you look back on and smile fondly at. They just forget to mention how stressful, time-consuming and tiring it all is don’t they? How all you want to do is just scream psychotically and cry about how much you still have left to do. Oh life you cruel yet beautiful strange thing. We love you but at times I want to strangle you. But then again, if we all had an easy life it would be pretty boring right? If everything went smoothly and nothing ever went wrong it would’t be living would it? The bad outweighs the good and vice versa, yin and yang. Can’t have one without the other. It’s like at times we are all living in our own personal snow-globe. The snow has settled and everything is fine and dandy but then suddenly a curious child comes along and shakes your globe about disturbing the snow and causing it to whirl madly around you. You don’t know what to do or understand why this chaos has suddenly happened upon you. You are confused and distressed at this state of affairs and wonder why this child has chosen you as their innocent victim. Yet it’s oddly beautiful and enchanting as you watch the snow fall to the ground. Once it has settled again you wonder why you were ever scared as things have quickly returned to how they were before. What’s my point? I can’t actually remember. Damn this pregnancy brain! But you get the idea. I think? Blahhh


I hope you are all well! I am off to nibble a slice of lemon cheese cake that has had my name calling before continuing with the packing. It’s crazy seeing your life in boxes. Never knew how much rubbish I actually own! AGHHHHH! Wish me luck!

Hop hop wiggle wiggle.

Posted in Baby, be who you are, be yourself, being a mother, being a writer, blog, blogger, bunny, chat, creative writing, discovery, everyday life, Family, Family Life, happy, how I live, just being myself, Labyrinth, life, Lifestyle, Love, married life, mother, Motherhood, Moving House, my life, my world, natter, opinion, parenting, positive, pregnancy, Pregnant, Scotland, Toddler, Uncategorized, wordpress, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment