tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57657125007184348942024-02-20T11:53:45.503-08:00Just A MumAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-88034189056521073502014-08-12T16:24:00.003-07:002014-08-12T16:24:19.099-07:00There But for the Grace of God.<h2 align="center">
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There But For The Grace of God</h2>
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Robin Williams, one of the worlds greatest comedians, after a long battle with drink, drugs and depression today took his own life.</div>
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I have tried to close my mind to those blackest of moments, but all I can think is there but for the grace of god - and in my case a timely visitor, go I and so many others.</div>
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Never before have I thought, "thank you universe that I ONLY had reactional depression". I have not had to face those demons, day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out.</div>
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Today depression took from us a great and funny man, to quote a friend "it has no boundaries". Not riches, or laughter, fun or friends it seems can ultimately save someone from this terrible and destroying illness.<br /><br />Having had just a small taste of the desperation depression brings, my heart goes out to anyone who suffers on a daily and long term basis, given that the news of his death so closely follows my post about kindness, tomorrow I shall remember to be extra kind.</div>
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My life was saved by the kindness of a friend, never before has paying that back seemed to be so important.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-31319848988913306022014-08-10T16:59:00.002-07:002014-08-10T16:59:14.435-07:00Being Kind<h2 align="center">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Being Kind</span></h2>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">Every day, I try to do something kind, for no return other than the pleasure I get from kindness itself,.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">These gestures can be tiny, "that is a lovely top you are wearing", they can be larger, donations to a cause that catches my eye, or more likely my heart strings, the more personal the story the more likely I am to be touched.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">Is there ever a truly selfless act I wonder, I think not, for me there is a lot of joy in lifting the spirits of another, by a simple kind word or gesture.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">I fell in love with my husband, because he was kind and his support enables me to spread a little of that love around, because in this family of ours, there is plenty of it to share. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">Helping others helps me, its as simple as that, there is no "meaning" to what happened to our family, but I feel that by rising from it a stronger, better and more loving person, then it has at least provided some positivity to me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">Having almost been destroyed to rise a more loving, more selfless, more generous and more kind person, rather than a bitter, twisted parody of who I used to be, that means everything to me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">And I see this kindness reflected in my children, who I have been told are light workers, as I am told am I.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">My DS will say to another child, "Thank you for sharing so nicely", DD will say to someone "You look very beautiful today" and then they will proudly announce their gesture to me. And when they address this to an adult, you can usually see the smile light up the recipients face.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">Their kindness and their innocence and generosity of spirit makes me want to scoop them up and take them to a place where I can protect them from discovering that actually the world isn't always a kind place.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">But then I think, that with people like them growing in it - maybe one day it can be.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">So my friends, spread some kindness and some love, it is never going to hurt you to do so, but it reaps enormous benefits, and it is good to make people smile, if only for a moment.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79;">If everyone did this, imagine what a more joyful place our world could be.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-26998313579455945292014-02-14T19:18:00.002-08:002014-02-14T19:18:14.325-08:00In This House<h2>
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In this house, there are no monsters.</span></h2>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are small creatures, 3 of them, the Christmas Angel, the Spring Angel and the Winter Fairy.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They are bundles of love, 1 medium, 1 small and 1 tiny.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I adore them, each hair on their head, their smells, their faces, their fun and their absolute unbridled joy in life.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Spring Angel is the bounciest, he is a 5 year old pure bolt of energy, a fiery ball of passion and joy, he sparks and fizzles, sometimes he explodes in a monumental eruption of rage and passion and deep rooted sense of unfairness, there is no logical to these explosions and as quick as they fire, they dissipate. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is also a bundle of affection and love, the most tactile and loving of my children, he hugs his siblings countless times a day, he dives home from school, hugs his brother and announces, "I MISSED YOU so much my baby", never has he felt a moments jealousy - and in that moment of unlimited, pure and boundless love, my heart could burst with the sheer joy it feels.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is different this boy of mine, he believes in magic and myth, in Santa and in Dragons and Faeries, in Mummy and Daddy and brothers and sister, he spends his time dressing up, making things, building lego, in a world I am not always sure I can enter, but wanting the constant, reassuring presence of mummy, he likes to know where I am - all the time, and tells me he has secret spy cameras through which he sees me when he is not with me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is my shadow, he likes to be with me, always.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next is the Winter Fairy, my stubborn, gorgeous, wilful just 4 year old daughter. She is so like her father, aloof on one hand, but needing reassurance on the other. She has my temper and stubborness, that is for sure, but with her fathers sense of detachment, she is not a child who cares what other people think, she knows her own mind and makes sure I know it too.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She is tiny and dainty and delicate and oh so very beautiful, to me they are all beautiful, but "NO, MUMMY", "Daddy and the other smalls are NOT BEAUTIFUL, they are HANDSOME, you and me WE are BEAUTIFUL".</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She believes in Faeries, but NOT DRAGONS, as she stamps her foot and announces strongly, I ABSOLUTELY do not believe in DRAGONS, DRAGONS are not REAL.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She likes making, and drawing and sticking and her baby brother and her 2 big brothers and her daddy. She likes to make new names, I am Mamma Mia, which she invented for herself. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She loves clothes and dresses and swirly, swirly skirts in which she dances with absolute abandon.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Winter Fairy is supremely self confident, there is no self doubt in her, she adores her aunt and her nanny and unlike her brother will leave without a backwards glance, secure in the knowledge that everyone she meets, absolutely loves her and that we are always here waiting for her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She will stride confidently into the world, this daughter of mine. Sometimes, while she sleeps, I go to watch her, her heart shaped face so similar and yet so different to mine. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then there is the Christmas Angel, sent to heal me, my Rainbow after the Storm, my high needs, highly attached soon to be toddler, delivered as an early present to us by Santa.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A mass of cuddles and kisses and happy smiley faces, already I can see that he is to be the family joker, everyones darling - when his brother and sister are out, he misses them so - he isn't quite whole without them and he crawls from room to room, seeking them in each one.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His first and at the moment only word is a variation on his brothers name, he takes 7 steps, each day we count them, his sister bursts with pride at his every achievement and I burst with love to watch them.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This baby was sent to teach me a few lessons I think and to bring me out of the darkness. I have been told he has been with me before and certainly his arrival made me feel complete.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite a houseful of toys, he likes to empty kitchen cupboards, despite a whole unit of Happyland he likes his brothers Playmobil. He is beginning to like to join in craft time, waving a paint brush in the air with great enthusiasm.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is one other, my eldest, he is forging his own path, his story is his own, he doesn't like to be spoken about on the internet but no story of our family is complete without at least a mention of him, my first born who holds his own special place in our hearts.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love them so, my children, each one so different.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And lastly in this house is my husband, my soul mate, my hero and the one person in my life I know, would lay down his life for us without hesitation and will never hurt us or let us down. He is my everything, and the foundation of our family - he thinks that role belongs to me, but without his love and support, I wouldn't be me.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He encourages me in whatever I want to do - and all it takes for him to be happy is us, he takes his joy from me and the 3 small creatures (and his beloved motorbike - only he could possibly get a thrill from riding in the current storms).</span><br />
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4 children plus 1 husband = my whole heart.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-16118921439761091782014-02-14T17:30:00.001-08:002014-02-14T17:30:23.153-08:00The Monster in the Dark<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Monster in the Dark</span></h2>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I bought a house, to be a safe place, where I could live my life and raise my children.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A home full of light and love and happiness, where, once the door was closed, we were safe me and mine.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew about monsters, that they were real and they existed, so I was cautious and careful. I monitored and I watch and I loved and I laughed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But time came when something slipped past my guard, past my ever watchful eye and came into my home.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The monster came in the shape of a child, ousing an evilness and a blackness that I did not see, invading every crook and cranny, disturbing the peace and harmony of my once safe place.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But still I did not see, for the monster made me blind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now I know more about monsters than I ever wished to know, that they can shape change, face change and take many forms, that they can steal your heart and your soul and leave a void that can never be filled.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The monster in my life has stolen my past, my memories, although life moves on and forward, there is a shadow that cannot be brightened, a darkness that cannot be filled with light.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To find peace, I have had to accept, that a part of me will now always be forever black, there will always be a chasm that will remain empty.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I have bought a new house, a new home, to fill with light and love and happiness once again.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And although a part of me will always yearn for the past, I know, that with love and patience and time, I can be happy once more.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My home is slowly filling with hearts and arts and crafts. With love, with light and with laughter, with dragonflies and butterflies and signs of a new start, a rebirth.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will keep a more watchful eye and this time, in this life, in this home, no monsters will slip by.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We will be safe and at peace again, me and mine.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-77274218117414096292013-10-05T16:12:00.003-07:002013-10-05T16:12:51.558-07:00An overnight guest of the most lovely variety - wet nursing.<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have discussed in the past, would I feed another mothers baby, yes I thought.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So one day this week, I got to my phone to missed calls from a friend of mine, and a text asking me to collect her baby from the hospital where she was having to overnight with her toddler.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In a heartbeat I confirmed I would and headed home to drop my brood before picking him up from hospital, I certainly hoped she wanted me to nurse him, because I have no pump, no bottles and being a Sunday all the shops were closed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I often wondered how an exclusively breast fed baby would settle with a different mama, would he cry or would he be content.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I arrived to collect him and checked with his mama, yes she would like me to feed him, and co-sleep - thankfully we have a side car and he is a better sleeper than my youngest, who wakes hourly. So I brought him home, this little bundle of loveliness, my 3 and 5 years olds were delighted, my 9 month old, not so sure.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cue happy smiles, posing with baby for photos, kisses on his precious head and then, feeding time, he was so light compared to my milk grown monster. He had a few test suckles and then he settled down for a good long feed, my little one wasn't having that, so I had one on each breast, booby brothers.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This brought back many happy memories of tandem feeing my 3 and 5 year old. Having fed he happily settled down and slept, waking only once for a feed and settling back off again. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a lovely experience to be able to do this for him and my friend, what were the alternatives, formula he wouldn't drink and that upset his little belly, or a bottle he wasn't used to given not by his mummy but some one else, he was happy and content and that showed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wore him in his own wrap, so he had the comfort of familiar milk drenched boobies, with the smell of his mummy surrounding him, this is how he slept, covered in his wrap, an inch away from me in our side car, which is usually occupied by my 3 year old, nowhere is strange for the carried baby.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even I an experienced mummy of 4, woke to check he was breathing through the night.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the morning I carried on tandem feeding the 2 of them, while my wonderful husband brought drinks and snacks, much awe of nursing mothers of twins, I didn't leave my bed. You could see around lunchtime he was starting to miss his mum, 4 months old but clearly able to express himself.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thankfully we were off to view a house we are buying so he was entertained by the journey and the newness. Late afternoon he went home to his mummy, who had missed him so - but he was safe, he was happy and he was content, I would have him again in a heartbeat, I couldn't bear to think of a baby sad, and missing the usual comfort of the breast, when I was so easily able to provide that for him and lessen the worry for his already worried mum.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the message she left for me on our local gentle parenting group, </span><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 13.600000381469727px;">I have an amazing friend I met on this very group she had given me lots of clothes ect for X and then the night before last she gave me the most amazing gift ever I couldn't keep X (who is ebf) in hospital with X they offerd me a pump but that would be useless since I don't have a big enough stash for him she came picked him up and fed my baby for me I don't think she quite knows how amazing she is so just saying thank you".</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 13.600000381469727px;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 13.600000381469727px;">This was followed up by the most beautiful bunch of flowers, timely arriving after I has spent the day in hospital with my youngest.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 13.600000381469727px;">I don't feel amazing, I didn't need flowers although they are very beautiful, I just did what came naturally to me, there is no "out there" or "controversy" for me, my friend and her baby needed me, and what is more, I enjoyed the time I spent with him, it was a pleasure for me, you forget so quickly how tiny they are and it was a privilege to be trusted with my friends most precious possession, her perfectly perfect baby boy.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.007b.com/public-breastfeeding-world.php"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.007b.com/public-breastfeeding-world.php</span></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-15310633477547341622013-10-05T15:40:00.003-07:002013-10-05T15:45:18.935-07:00Feeding on the Floor<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Feeding on the floor outside Door 3 of Harrods to be precise.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like a vagrant, people walked past me and stepped over me without a second glance, me and my invisible child, the 2 doormen there blindly refused to acknowledge my existence.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it an was an absorbing place to be - floor level, green shoes, red shoes, studded shoes, diamanté shoes, and that was just the men. The amount of fawning carried out by the doormen seemed to be in direct proportion to the extravagance of the shoes on display.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Door 3 appears to be a semi secret side entrance, there is a yellow lined space just outside the doors, just the right size and length for the steady stream of limos, large BMWs and Mercedes that pulled up outside and disgorged mainly Arab families.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The doormen recognised many of the cars, you could tell who was and was not a regular visitor, a big spender, I guess, by the speed with which they danced attendance and whether 1 or 2 doormen went to the car.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't realise a plain black hijab could be so intricate and so absolutely beautiful, intricate lace of many types and some of the fabrics, plain black but so smoothly flowing, quality shining from every strand.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could have sat there all day, because the shoes, an array of high heeled, multi coloured, many gemmed shoes, were like a fashion show of the highest quality. I guess when you have a lot of money and the only part of you on display is your feet, you are going to dress them up and put on the best display you can. Like a peacock.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There were jeans, skirts, short and long, but, with my eyes like stalks, I often wondered, how could you walk, never mind stride with confidence in eye wateringly high heels like that.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There were women and children, relatively few men, although one lady strolled past, followed by what were clearly her minders, I have never seen a real life bodyguard before. It was all very exciting, I could have literally sat there for hours, watching the world flow by, the very rich mingling with the average tourist all happily ignoring the breast feeding mother sat on the floor watching the world in minature in the doorway of Harrods.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-23814973160747942212013-08-20T04:47:00.002-07:002013-08-20T04:47:33.513-07:00Tiny Toes and Baby Grows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-30526295614202089842013-08-20T04:28:00.000-07:002013-08-20T05:38:26.387-07:00Why I Babywear.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: red; line-height: 17px;">Why I Babywear</span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 17px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: red; line-height: 17px;">Last year my entire world was blown apart, the family and life I thought I had collapsed, our family was in a total state of turmoil and our life will never to be the same again.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 17px;"><br /><br /><span style="color: #b45f06;">I stayed home for a year, only leaving the house with my husband, he was and still is my rock.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #f1c232;">We decided to have another baby, because they are so healing, I was total state of shock throughout my pregnancy and towards the end a friend who was concerned about me sent me a link to 2 groups, the local attachment parenting group and the local sling meet and she made me PROMISE to go. These mamas she told me, will be lovely, please go, and she gave me my first wrap.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d;">So heavily pregnant, I swallowed my nerves and went along to a sling meet and the attachment parenting group. I looked at the sling wearers, many people were in both groups, I had never worn a baby, but they looked so close, mama and baby, almost still one.</span><br /><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br />I had been in such distress through my pregnancy I was terrified of PND, I thought it had to be worth a go, I’d carry the little one after his/her birth.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #20124d;">And so he arrived, my rainbow after the storm and I fed him and I wore him, everywhere, all the time.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #741b47;">I felt his heart next to my heart, smelt his precious baby smell, I kept him sockless and footless, so I could hold his little feet and warm them with my hands, I wore him topless in the house with just a nappy, skin to skin, never apart and constantly together.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: red;">I fed him in the wrap, he slept in the wrap, his daddy carried him at times, skin to skin, heart to heart.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: orange;">And strangers stopped and cooed, in a way they never had before, people I had never spoken to, they cooed on the school run over his tiny head wrapped to me, inside my coat, they showed an interest in the shop,”oh look how happy he is in there”, my wraps became a conversation topic, an opening to speak, “oh look dragons today”, “what a beautiful lizard”, “such a happy baby”, “so content”.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #f1c232;">And gradually, with each piece of skin to skin, each conversation I had, while stroking his toes, each new friend I made in this new world he opened up for me, I healed, I didn’t realise I was healing, it happened gradually. As he grew close to my skin, the pain inside me eased.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d;">Spring came, and then summer, and still I wear him, my beautiful precious little boy and now I have a whole new life, I mourn the passing of my old life at the same time as my new life grows.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">I have interests now, sling meets and parenting groups and breast feeding groups, I have friends, I am no longer scared of meeting new people or going to new places, because I am never alone, somewhere, there is always another baby wearer, a mum just like me – and with a brief grin, a small wave of the hand, an acknowledgement of each other, no matter how small, I know – I am now a part of this baby wearing community, finally, I have refound me.</span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-52507567750682892252013-08-15T10:00:00.004-07:002013-08-15T10:45:47.680-07:00I held him ......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was lying in the bath, reading Ian May's Guide to Childbirth, when I came across this quote, it may me think of my youngest child.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a mother to 4 children, I am often subjected to comments about how you cannot possibly love them all the same, or how they end up looking after each other.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each one of my beautiful children, is much loved, much wanted and much adored.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My husband once told them, "love is like family's, it grows".</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remembered this picture of him a few days old and how much overwhelming love I felt for him, so I thought I'd share it.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-16063427650510610022013-08-14T06:46:00.001-07:002013-08-14T11:24:11.497-07:00I Said No<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;">Sad topic, but I've been looking into books on how to keep children safe from abuse.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;">I have done a lot of research into this topic, being more than aware that the monster is usually someone that my child will know, not the random stranger they may come across, thankfully abuse is rare, but still, I want them to know how to stay safe without scaring them.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;">I have found a lot of the UK literature very, wishy washy, and even the child protection guidance from government bodies, a bit, I don't know - unspecific, how on earth is my 3 year old supposed to know what "safe touching" and "something that makes you uncomfortable" is.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">I've been following my own, made up methodology, teaching them what their private parts are named, that no-one is allowed to hurt them or touch their privates except mummy, daddy, nanny or maybe their teacher or the doctor and even then, only if they NEED to, for bottom wiping or putting medicine creams on or in the doctors case if there is something wrong and mummy or daddy are there.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">I've been doing this as a part of day-to-day living, I have no intention of taking away their innocence or scaring them half to death, I have taught them that if mummy does something, anything, they are unhappy with they can talk to daddy, or nanny, and they have gone through a whole raft of people they know who can help them and the same if daddy does something, or anyone else</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">They know if they get lost to look for the till and the person who works there in a shop, a Police Man or Lady (not politically correct, Police Constable is the correct term but they are chlidren) if they are out, or a mummy or daddy with children.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">But I have just been doing things my way, then this morning</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">, I had this book delivered. I am really impressed with it, it can be personalised and talked about in bite sized chunks, we have had some fun, foot stamping and waving pretend red flags, getting a serious message across to children but in a fun (or can be made to be fun way).</span></span><br />
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<span id="btAsinTitle" style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">I Said No!: A Kid-to-Kid Guide to Keeping Private Parts Private </span></h1>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Zach%20King&search-alias=books-uk&sort=relevancerank" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none;">Zach King</a><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="byLinePipe" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">(Author)</span><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_2?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Kimberly%20King&search-alias=books-uk&sort=relevancerank" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Kimberly King</a><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="byLinePipe" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">(Author)</span><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_3?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Sue%20Rama&search-alias=books-uk&sort=relevancerank" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Sue Rama</a><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="byLinePipe" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">(Illustrator)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;">I wish I wasn't writing this post, I wish I didn't feel the need to keep my children safe, but I do, and I am glad to have found this book, written from a childs perspective, to help me with that task in a fun way.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: red;">Them stamping the feet, waving their for now imaginary red flags (I will be making real red and green flags) and shouting NO, I SAID NO, at the top of their voices has certainly turned a depressing but necessary topic into an hour of fun.</span></span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-28720540069098843892013-08-13T09:30:00.004-07:002013-08-13T09:34:58.950-07:00I Should Like To Be<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should like to be a fairy and float amongst the trees </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Sprinkling shimmers of faerie dust, y</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">our pain and fears to ease</span></div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">I should like to be an angel and glide about unseen </span></span></div>
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I would whisper softly to help you through, a murmur in the breeze</div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">I should like to be a butterfly, delicate wings beat in the sky</span></span></div>
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A short lived flash of beauty, to brighten up your day</div>
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">But if I cannot a faerie or an angel or a butterfly be,</span></span></div>
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I'll be just me, not perfect, but my best I always try.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFmGrFcxdApb_-Qjm-b2V6W_Nyqjp2dRDu1cQhdDmhNm2vOCpiqu5-GbUzOEK_-WD3XWKxSqFEOguw1CgzdEqNkH4X6Mfs6n43a52MPva2G1-Eh6r2pJHI6Dqzoh2ggfaSSRliGRNo0Gw/s1600/fairy-images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFmGrFcxdApb_-Qjm-b2V6W_Nyqjp2dRDu1cQhdDmhNm2vOCpiqu5-GbUzOEK_-WD3XWKxSqFEOguw1CgzdEqNkH4X6Mfs6n43a52MPva2G1-Eh6r2pJHI6Dqzoh2ggfaSSRliGRNo0Gw/s1600/fairy-images.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5765712500718434894.post-51956027888549565862013-08-13T09:04:00.004-07:002013-08-13T09:34:36.057-07:00Just A Mum<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People have been trying to get me to start writing for a while, my husband wants me to write our story, for now, I think I will start a blog.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So why "Just A Mum", it's inspired by something a lovely mama said to me one day when we were in a group together, "I'm not like the rest of you", she said, "I'm just a mum", and I replied "There is no such thing as Just A Mum".</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Just a mum", is the most important thing a mum can be, one thing we all have in common is we grow our babies inside us, we have home births and hospital births, we breast feed and bottle feed, we co-sleep and cot sleep, we routine and unroutine, we have order and we have chaos.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But the one thing that unites us all is we have all spent around 40 weeks carrying and growing that precious life inside, we have all known that moment, that magical, most wonderous moment, when the life we have created becomes ours, a part of us, but separate from us.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And for an adoptive mother, because they too are a mum, there is more than biology involved in being a mum, there is love.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had a friend, who was adopted, her mother went on after years of infertility, to have a boy, but she was special her mother told her, "WE CHOSE YOU, other mummies and daddies get the baby they are given, we wanted YOU so", their closeness touched me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have left us now, my friend and her mother, and I hope they are reunited somewhere - mother and daughter together.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So Just a Mum is a play on words, its the simplest of terms, encompassing the most complex and most fundamentally basic of relationships.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just A mum, the most wonderful and heart breaking thing I have ever been.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12972000219894963104noreply@blogger.com0