Off to the land down under

I've not posted for ages! I'm so sorry (to my two, and only two readers, Anita and Mike) you see I have been a busy bee, desperately house hunting constantly! Every house we have viewed and shook hands on have fallen through..the lovely little place with huuuge garden in Brockley, the sweet little basement pad in Crystal Palace, the idyllic little cottage in South Norwood. Every flipping one of them!
So after months of pissing about and staying with family, putting them out and boring them to death with our house viewing trials and tribulations, we've decided to go for a long holiday to Mike's homeland; Australia!
I've been loads as we used to visit mike's parents once a year (pre Jacob) and I absolutely love the place. It will be really nice to get away from all the stress and drama of the last few months and mike is able to restart work on our return, So, with no rental contract signed or kids at school now seems like the best time to go for a nice long holiday and introduce Jacob to all his Aussie relatives!

And whilst we're there we may even start to contemplate a permanent move sometime in the future.
Life in London has really knocked it out of me the last few months. House prices soar by the week and good jobs are becoming increasingly hard to find. I can't even contemplate going back to work because the cost of childcare would probably override my monthly salary. To put in bluntly, living off one salary when you have a family to support is shit. Mike did 76 hours last week and what do we have to show for all the hard work? Nothing. I'm increasingly learning in this country that it doesn't pay to be the hardworking family that isn't quite poor but are certainly not rich either, because mike earned more than £26,000 we were denied tax credits. Yet the man who robbed my mother and was arrested and put on probation, with the help of his probation officer, managed to get a council flat in a nice area of London with everything being paid for. Essentially, my mum, by being robbed by him, improved his life. Where the fuck is the justice in that?

I do really love London and the UK. There are many things that make me proud. Unfortunately I'm just slowly falling out of love with the place. Hopefully a nice long holiday will sort me out! After all, You can take the girl out of London....

All that is me.

Whilst clearing out my mums old house this weekend, I found this gorgeous piece of writing that I had written down when I was 17. I have no idea where I copied it from, I sure as hell know I didn't create it myself, but I'm so glad I found it. It is absolutely beautiful.

" All you accuse me of is right but you don't understand it. Sometime I will try and tell you. I respect your unrequited search after what is real and true, more than anything. When I did fall in love with you I didn't recognise it because it was a new feeling, I hope I never gave the impression your feelings were a burden on me? Now I look back on it, this was not so, they were the most real and joyful part of my existence.
Sometimes on the most desolate occasions they relapsed into a wild gaiety when, late at night, the house would be filled with your laughter and your exotic untamed unwary chants, poetry brimmed from your lips and your vibrations filled the house with life. My heart woke up your fantasies, your dreams, your uncaptured soul.
No your feelings were not a burden on me. The burden was myself, my thick fears, and heavy cluttered mind, my apathy, my rigidness, my lack of courage, because with strength, I could have been the woman you and I had wanted, and taken you in my arms and held you.
And as for happiness - I know what happiness is - I have experienced it. Everything glows and a faint smell of warmth comes off the grass and trees and suddenly I'm there and not up in some tiny corner of my mind. But you see, I'm incapacitated, I can't take it and I never have been able too. I remember when I was four years old, all the other children on a hot summers afternoon, going across the lawn to the pool and I had an earache, I was lying in my room with the curtains drawn, the sun against them, they were yellow and had bee's on them. Enough light came in for me to see my arms hanging heavy over the bed and watch my fingers sweep and dangle against the floor whilst in the distance I heard the merry shouts of children play. And sometimes a tiny ray of sun would push between the curtains and if I was lucky, it might fall somewhere on the bed, on me."

Pale and uninteresting.

I can't believe what has happened! I promised myself no matter how tough and busy and tired I became I would never ever do this.

I've ditched the fake tan.

Sounds extremely shallow I know, but I'm not one of those girls who cake it on, I don't wear a dark shade of tangerine or wear eyeshadow up to my eyebrows or wear fake nails, fake eyelashes (I found an eyelash in a ham roll whilst staying with my glam younger sis, I promptly vommed and now have a phobia of them) I'm not a typical TOWIE sort of fake tan addict, up until now I just couldn't live without it. My natural skin colour is pale blue/see through so putting some tan on my legs, and body, made me feel better, made me feel healthier, made me feel remotely attractive, and well just made me feel like me!!
The past 6 months or so, I've just stopped. My legs are shocking, my stomach looks fucking ugly without it and even my own sister kindly pulled down my top that had ridden up the back whilst we were both working at the restaurant, I reckon I was blinding her with my glow in the dark white back.
I am just too tired and can't be bothered. All i have time for when Jacob goes to sleep at night is dinner, Eastenders and sleep. Just ask my poor boyfriend. It's a cycle though, I don't feel myself right now so I stop doing the one thing that makes me feel better, and happier about myself, kind of stupid really! So today I'm going to do the usual routine of shower than tan, and hopefully I will feel like a human being, instead of this ghostly, grumpy, trying to do a billion things at once person.
It's not really about the fake tan is it? It's about not letting motherhood, work, life in general tire you out so much that you let go of who you are and what you enjoy!
Definitely time to get me back!

Valentines humbug!

So it's Valentines Day tomorrow! Mike and i have nothing planned and have no intention of doing anything. We've been through so much together recently and come out of the other side still in one piece and still smiling! I think that says it all for us both personally.
Mike is not one for grand gestures! (He used to be aherm) but I think as time goes on its the simple things you do daily that prove how much you love each other. I'd prefer he be thoughtful and make kind gestures all year round than be an absolute feck wit of a pig all year but then receive the obligatory flowers, teddies and all the other bollocks on V Day.
He is an absolutely amazing Daddy, he cooks me the most amazing food (and doesn't mind that all I can make is pasta! In fact he calls me Nona) he drives me places when I'm too cold (or lazy) to walk even if its way out of his way! he comes home early if I've had a horrid day, he plays with my hair at night whilst I read magazines,he attends to Jacob on rough nights whilst I catch up on sleep, he calms me down when I'm panicking like a loon at everything! He make's me feel so much better just by being in the same room as me...And most importantly he understands and accepts all the little traits and annoying things about me and doesn't ask me to change.
He's so loyal, and committed and I can honestly say I've never been with anyone who is so dedicated just to making me smile. He's a gorgeous and tall Australian, so handsome and funny, he's sensitive and kind and considerate. I truly am very lucky. I guess if it takes Valentines Day to remind you of how lucky you are, then it can only be a good thing.

Best "Us" moments:
1) Calming me down whilst I was in theatre about to have a C Section. He was so strong and calm and amazing and I remember thinking,despite the agonising pain I was in, how ridiculously good looking he looked in the doctor's scrubs he had to wear!

2) First date in a little Indian restaurant in a teeny village called Ham. That's when I first thought I'm keeping this one! So cute and funny and telling me all about his family in Australia.

3) Staying in a Caravan in New South Wales, Oz. During our first trip to Australia, we stayed in amazing hotels, went to fancy restaurants etc.. But it was in Mike's parents caravan alone on the coast that we were happiest. Board games, food, the beach and red wine. It was pure bliss. I may have got drunk and fallen through a window (allegedly) Manly was pretty special too, even though we slept in a sandpit/bed every night. The nights by the ferry port sipping wine without a care in the world were simply unforgettable.

4) Our first gig as "parents" when we brought Bruce home. We were so excited we couldn't sleep, and stayed up all night with this crazy tiny little puppy. We were smitten.

5) Paris! Was so so happy! Best holiday ever. That little place by the canal, the food, the hotel, EVERYTHING!

6) Every time I see him with Jacob. Jacob has such a wonderful, funny Daddy and all the memories we are creating and traditions.

And so much more......and hopefully many more to come.
Love you M xxx

Meet scarsandstripes and the adventures of Jacob!

So I've set up a brand new parenting Blog http://scarsandstripesandjacob.blogspot.com
This one is going to document all things parenting and all things Jacob!
Paving way for 'In my shoes' to be more of a personal one for moi! Fashion, relationships, life and all that jazz!

Keep reading if you do! xx

Tantrums.

At the ripe old age of 16 months old, my gorgeous, placid little baby has turned into a foot stamping, red faced, growling (don't ask) screaming, crying, chuck-yourself-on-the-floor tearaway toddler. We were in the doctors surgery the other day when I asked him to come away from the revolving doors that he kept trying to run in and out of, simple request right?
Wrong. What came after I can only weep as I reminisce, a blood curdling scream followed by the biggest meltdown that would make Naomi Campbell proud. I was absolutely horrified and did everything I could to soothe him, and eventually did, thank God.

I think I'm genuinely baffled as I had no idea they started this early! And I know the majority of the time, he's just asserting who he is, he's trying to tell me that he's an individual (a bloody strong willed one at that) and that he has to be allowed to explore and learn and tread his OWN footsteps. In the meantime I'm learning a whole new world of my own...being parent to a toddler.
It's bloody hard, and exhausting - and I've literally run out of ways to keep him entertained on trains and buses that I now just sing 'The Wheels On The Bus' shamelessly at the top of my lungs because it amuses him.
....and as for Supermarkets! The sweets and chocolate at the checkout, the thousands of kids magazines on the bottom shelf in perfect eye view of my pint size Iggle Piggle addict. Just waiting for his beady eyes to discover them.

I know we'll get there, and to give him credit, he is bloody funny and charming and ever so adorable. I just need extra patience (and wine!)

Please feel free to give me lots of advice on how you handled the dreaded terrible twos (or ones, threes and fours) .....

Not Guilty!

There has been a lot of talk about C Sections on Twitter lately, Kirstie Allsop, domestic goddess and TV personality, recently wrote a badly received tweet regarding the NCT and how it's possible they deliberately fail mothers-to-be who wish to have a C section by not installing them with enough information during their classes, and therefore making mums who have had emergency c sections, feel guilty that they did not deliver the 'right' way. I really like Kirstie and I accept that she was speaking on behalf of many women who had contacted her with issues they had experienced with the NCT. She did go on to say that she fully supports many of the things that NCT do, just that their are a few causes for concern that need to be addressed within the child birth charity and rightfully so.

My lovely midwife Amy had urged me to go the NHS run ante natal classes being held by her and her equally lovely midwifery team (Valley Team, St Thomas's - got nothing but praise for these fantastic ladies) which I enjoyed and found to be informative and free of judgement (although perhaps the encouragement of a home birth was fairly OTT at times) so having not attended NCT, I can't say whether this is true or not. What I can say having seen so many different sides of the debate recently (I follow hundreds of mums on Twitter) is that there seems to be this vibe around emergency C Sectioners, this feeling that we all feel guilty and hard done by and misinformed and that perhaps if we'd been given more advice our c section would never of happened?
This just simply isn't true.
I can wholeheartedly say that I do not and will never ever feel guilty for having a c section, nor do I feel bitter or jealousy and resentment for those who have natural births. If anything I feel happy and relieved that we have an alternative safe method of delivery that is quick and efficient, if our babies are having trouble coming into the world on their own.
On the 25th September 2011 at 5.00pm I was fully dilated and ready to push, I had been induced and had an epidural (an induced labour comes on so quick and intense that I was literally swept off my feet with the pain) and apart from having a long wait until I had fully dilated, I was happy, content with everything so far and ready to give it my all in the crucial moment. Unfortunately after an hour and 15 minutes and no epidural top ups, I was left in agony, beyond exhausted with still no baby delivered, Amy went and fetched the doctor who declared I needed a c section and fast. At 6.30, Jacob was born, I was exhausted and my shoulder was hurting badly (still have no idea why) but I just remember the absolute feeling of sheer relief and not giving a flying hoot at how he got here, I was just really glad that he WAS here! I bonded with my son immediately (contrary to people believing it is more difficult to bond with your child after a c section, maybe it is for some people but no problems here) yes, we did have difficulty breast feeding, Jacob wouldn't latch, so I expressed, with my hands in the hospital and with a pump at home. Would this have happened anyway, who knows? I was told to go along to the local milk cafe where help and support would be available to establish proper breast feeding, call me daft but the though of going to a cafe and trying to feed a screaming hungry child who would not feed from me, in front of other women, had very little appeal to me. Although I never once felt judged by Amy at my decision to keep expressing. I don't feel Jacob and I have bonded less then women and their babies who breastfed and anyone who says any different can fuck off quite frankly. He is my absolute life. It's like saying women who practise Controlled Crying love their babies less than women who don't. Absolutely ridiculous.

So having a c section changed my experience of birth, but only the end bit, only that ten minutes at the end when he was delivered. Everything until then had been as it would have been had he arrived naturally, the pain before the epidural, the agonising pain after the epidural wore off. I felt it, I know how it feels, I have missed nothing other than the feeling of delivery. And do you know what, I'm really okay with that! But is it okay? Should I feel guilty? I almost feel guilty for not feeling guilty! The fact is I'm quite pleased I didn't have to have stitches down below, and everyone one of my friends who have had a c section all say the same thing, with a wink. And why not.

After having a T incision ( an internal incision as well as the normal one because Jacob was quite far down the birth canal) I've been told I won't be able to give birth naturally, and that's fine too. I'm at peace with that, I can choose the birthdays of my future children and prepare and organise those last few days of pregnancy before hurricane newborn gets home.

And when I bring my future darling babies born by c section home from hospital, I STILL won't feel guilty. And I certainly won't be feeling jealous of those who had natural births, as I wouldn't expect them to feel jealous of me and my 'cushy' c section.
I'm not ashamed of what my body didn't do, I'm too in awe with what it did.