Time waits for no man.

I think I just booked a ticket to go to Electric Picnic next year with the girlies! I dunno where the hell I’m getting the money from to pay for it, actually I haven’t even got the deposit for it yet and I don’t know who’s gonna babysit the Small Monkey as hubalump is likely to be working. I’ve just come back from 9 days at home, I’m going to a wedding in Donegal next month, possibly an overnighter in Dublin in December and I AM going to Paris in Feb/March…again, money and sitters feature heavily in my problems here but shur what about it? Time waits for no man and I fully intend to start sh*tting money!

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We poo money!

Waaaay back in 2008, I decided I was going to wait for the right time less and do more of the things I wanted to do, caring less about what others thought. So I did. I went to visit my fairly brand, new friend and her “met-him-a-coupla-times” hubby in Sweden.

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Yep, that’s me there!

I never fully believed when I told her I’d visit that I would, but one day I decided what’s stopping me? I don’t pay real bills yet (I was working in a pub…food & lodging inc), no kids and no boyfriend, so I booked my flights and off I went. I came back and booked onto a Hadrian’s Wall camping hike for Great Ormond Street Hospital. I knew nobody else going and I’d never hiked anywhere. The furthest away I’d ever camped in my life, was about 12ft from my back door at home in the back garden. The only thing I did know was, I’d always wanted to see Hadrian’s Wall and I wanted to do more for charity so this trip was a win win situation. It was a 25 mile hike and being inexperienced, there were bits I found tough but it was a great experience, I made a new friend and we still talk today. Ooooh and I ate lunch under the tree where Kevin “Robin Hood” Costener defended the boy in the tree!

 

From there I booked a girlie holiday with my future in laws to Gran Canaria. I took my Ma on her first foreign holiday and we had an absolute ball. I kept up the charity work effort by doing one sponsored event a year.Me bestie and I did the Moonwalk for Breast Cancer in 2012, we walked 26 miles…in a row…through the night!! Small Monkey crossed his first finish line for Great Ormond Street Children’s hospital aged 1. Hubby also did his first charity event that day aged 33.  Bar a trip to Lanzarote, after that my “travelling” quietened down a bit as we were saving for our wedding. I did other things though, I booked tickets for hubby and myself to go see musicals that I would normally wait until I had the money, but we were saving anyway and when were we ever gonna have the money? I also did a travel and tourism course somewhere in amongst all that. Oh and I took pole dancing lessons! Why? Cos I wanted to. It looks fun and the pro’s make it look sexy as hell and I’m sorry but what woman doesn’t want to have a good time looking sexy as hell? (Admittedly the reality was somewhat different!) Was I planning on becoming a pole dancer? Nope, I’ve not an ounce of upper body strength for a start (mahooosive respect to those women who can do it). What did people say? Oh I’m sure some had their opinions but why should their opinions stop me from doing what I want?

Things quieted down a bit once I had Small Monkey, but once I made up my mind to stop waiting (for what? I don’t know) and just got out and went to our first Mother and Baby coffee morning, things started happening again. The things I go to or do might not seem big or as exciting as some of the other things I had done but they were tailored to suit my New Mammy Life. I stopped waiting to be invited places and packed myself and Small Monkey off on our own and it’s still the same now. If I wake up in the morning and the weather’s amazing, we’ll go to the beach.It wasn’t planned and we might not get there til lunchtime but shur what else am I at? Wandering around the same street, thinking I should have done this. There doesn’t always have to be a plan. Seriously lads, we’re never at home! Why? Because time waits for no man! Hubby is a different kettle of fish, he is one of those that will hum ‘n’ haw and worry about what will happen, he’s convinced we’ll get stabbed, attacked or bombed wherever I suggest going, so now I don’t wait (although if I do get him going, he normally enjoys it and tells everybody it was his idea!). I don’t wait for hubalump to ponder whether or not we’ll survive a trip to Bexleyheath, I just go. I’m tired of sitting and waiting!

My sister drives now, so we go meet her and we head off to new parks or beaches, instead of sitting around saying we’ll do it…shur there a few weeks ago we were walking around 8000 year old caves in London! When we go home to Ireland, we try to have some sort of excursion. One of the best was probably the road trip to Tramore which was Small Monkey’s first trip to the beach. Four cars, packed with family, friends and sandwiches. We’ve been to Lough Booragh, Lullymore, Malahide Castle, to name but a few and we’ve also crossed the Cliffs of Moher, Clonmacnoise, Newgrange and Bru Na Boinne (how do ya do a fada on a laptop techie types?) off our list.I even got a Nicki Minaj concert and a trip to Czech Republic with the girlies in there too! (Ya know when your foreign friend says she’s going home for her 40th, and you, having never been to the country before and knowing nobody bar her, invite yourself along. Your friends are there and they jump on board, your Czech friend says yeah what the hell, be great to have ye but nobody really believes they’re going until tickets are booked and babysitters are sorted…yeah, ya know them times! #thebesttimes).

 

I think the point of this post is “do less sitting, thinking and more up and doing”. It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing like going to get a pedicure or if it’s jumping out of a plane, if you want to do it and there are no reasons you can’t then why not do it? Stop caring about what people will say…or just care a little less if you can’t completely stop. Be the talk of the village, there’ll be somebody or something new tomorrow. If you’re not hurting those around you, then whose business is it anyway? Wear the sparkly arseless chaps to the pub tonight…well maybe don’t…chaps only look good on rugged cowboys and occasionally Christina Aguilera circa 2002…but you get my point. I had my hair dyed recently, with a rainbow streak. I didn’t do it ‘cos I’m unsure of my age or I’m clutching at my youth or because I’m having a mid life crisis. I did it because I’ve always wanted hot 161014083233pink in my hair but never thought I could carry it off and people would think I looked stupid. I’ve now decided I don’t particularly care to much what people think of my hair as long as I like it. I’d rather they like me myself than my hair. I also have 8 tattoos, most of which you can’t see anyway, because…yep you guessed it…they are for me, nobody else. Somebody did ask me though, why I have 8, or any I guess, what will I do when I’m 70? Well, please God, I’ll see 70 but no doubt life will carry on as normal whether I have tattoos or not. I might dread the sight of them by then, I really don’t know, but what I do know is, right now, today, I love them all…..well maybe one slightly less but shur listen YOLO….YOLO!! What about when you’re all wrinkly? Well I’ll just have more fun ironing them out trying to remember what they are. I think I just want to look back and think I don’t have to many regrets and I’m glad I got to do the things or at least some of the things I wanted, no matter how big or insignificant they may seem.

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It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day.

I’m not even sure if any of this makes sense to you reading it now, so I’m going to finish with  some words from this cool mutha f**ka….

“Look, if you had, one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted. In one moment
Would you capture it, or just let it slip?…..

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go….

So here I go it’s my shot.
Feet, fail me not
This may be the only opportunity that I got

You can do anything you set your mind to, man”

                                                              Excerpts taken from “Lose Yourself” by Eminem

So there ya go lads, life is only temporary.

Love Donna x

 

 

 

 

Pick up a pen & make somebody smile!

This year Thinking of You Week runs from the 26th Sept to 2nd Oct.

totallydonnamarie

TOYW_facebook_2015Hey guys! So this week is “Thinking of You Week”. It’s organised by the Greeting Card Association and runs from the 21st to the 27th of September. Yessss I know….a great way for them to get us to spend money, but I actually think it’s a great idea. I mean why do we have to wait for birthdays and Christmas to send cards? Remember when we actually had to pick up a pen and write a letter to find out how people were? My son’s not quite old enough yet, but other than maybe their letter to Santa, has your child ever wrote a letter? Writing to somebody is just so personal, it’s not something that is mass produced and pre-printed. It means somebody thought about you, just you yourself.

God I used to love writing letters, I wrote to my Nanny, my little brothers, my cousins including one I…

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Santa at Ruxley Manor

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Yeah, yeah I know it’s only September BUT if you want to take your child to see Santa and you want it to be worth it, then you gotta get in quick…seriously all the December weekends at Ruxley Manor are already gone!

Anyway, last Christmas, Small Monkey was two and a half and showing an interest in Santa. Wooo…exciting!! The two years before that I just took him up to Winter Wonderland. It’s free, and he wasn’t getting the whole “Santa” thing anyway, but unless you get in early there can be a lot of queuing and it’s fairly rushed, I still have some cute pics though. So yeah, he was finally interested so I thought, now lads, now the fun begins and true effort is required. I tried booking Selfridges and Hamleys, granted it was October I think, so my efforts were futile. So in the end I was saved by another Mother (anuvva Muvva..hee hee) on a Netmums chat…mmm…could’ve been good old Facebook either though and heard about Ruxley Manor Garden Centre.

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From Waterloo, it’s about 55mins by car, or 1hr 20mins by public transport, which is a pain but it really didn’t seem that long. You will need to sign up online to book an allocated slot, adults are £4 each, Small Monkey’s age is £10, and the visit lasts about 45mins. Obviously, with it being a garden centre, there are fabulous Christmas grottos and displays everywhere. The miniature railway set up is just beautiful to look at, so do go and have a nose around. Oooh and they have their own resident reindeer!

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Now the fun stuff! I really wasn’t sure what I was expecting for £10, I thought “ah he’ll get a nice picture with Santa and some little knick knack at least” but both myself and hubby thought the time to get there and the £20 (for all of us) was well spent. At the entrance to the grotto we were greeted by an Elf and given the first stamp in our  “grotto passports”. After a short wait our group (it wasn’t a big group, just the right amount of people) was led through the magical doors to Santa’s grotto by……MRS CLAUS!!! Yep straight into her cosy, log cabin kitchen, where, accompanied by elves, all the children were sat down to make their very own magical reindeer feed. There was also a Jingle Bell sing-a-long where instruments were handed out, annd of course, you got your passport stamped. Well I dunno about anyone else, but I was delighted and my Monkey looked like he was enjoying himself too. Now there is a little bit of time at the end, if people get their acts together, where you can get a cheeky pic with Mrs Claus. They are quite happy to take pics but you are on a tour and you don’t want to get left behind.160911124446_wm

Through the next door, we are met by another group of extremely happy elves and we’re all asked to take a seat at the wooden tables. We were then told the story of “the Night before Christmas”. Like I said, I hadn’t a clue really what I paid for but the elves then started handing out little pouches and boxes of markers and crayons. The Monkey would be making his very own Christmas bauble. The also handed out some extra pictures for the kids to colour in too. Ah shur it was great, the elves bopped about here and there spreading Christmas cheer and stamping passports. I mean just look at his bauble…my child is an artiste! He coloured that in himself, we never touched it….yep…I am extremely proud of that bauble lads! We then gathered by the doors to meet the Big Man himself.

We were led into a room with a bench all around the edge and lots of cushions on the floor for the kiddies to sit on. Aaah, you’d want to hear the oohs and aaahs when the kids discovered who was asleep by the fireplace. Their little faces were something else lads seriously. You can’t put a price on that. Santa had a little chat with the crowd, answering questions, asking questions, you know the usual “have you been good and make sure you be good, don’t forget to put the reindeer food out and a bikkie for him” kinda thing. Of course as the kids had been so good he decided to give them all a present and OMG, the presents only came down the chimney!!! Delira!! Each child was called up individually and given their present. The kids under 3, as Monkey was, got quite a nice Christmas Elf
each but you could tell from the boxes coming down that the older kids got something more exciting, say. (On booking online, you’re asked your child’s sex and age, so the present given is suitable, which is lovely). It was so lovely seeing my little man go up to get his pressie from Santa…I think my eyes were wet. As the present giving was wrapped up…heh heh…do ya see what I did there?..the elves came back to help each child or family have their picture with Santa, stamp passports….annnd all the parents were given a BABY CHRISTMAS TREE EACH!!! We got a lovely picture in the end even though our original take got mislaid…on leaving Santa to collect our photo it gets a bit crazy. We actually got to meet Santa again as our picture had to be re-taken.

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Once the tour was done, we had a wander back to the reindeer, took in the fabulous light displays and thanked God we don’t live in an actual house with free reign outside. Have ye seen “Deck the Halls”?? I was really good too and only bought a snowman to go on my fireplace. We also spent ages looking at the miniature railway and Christmas town display…I dunno what happened to my pics of that but it was beautiful.

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So there ye go guys, if you’re in the southeast London area, I’d highly recommend Ruxley Manor to visit Santa. We really enjoyed it and look forward to going again this year.

Love Donna x

 

You should go & love yourself.

There 2wks ago I donned my 50’s style Lindy Bop dress, put on my face, failed to pin curl my hair in a 50’s style do, and headed off in search of Collectif Clothing‘s store on Commercial St. I was heading to Abby Russell‘s (AKA Curvy Living) “Self-Love and Style” evening.

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me in Lindy Bop, apres hair do!

*Just to be clear, when I say “self-love”, I mean, like, love yourself for who you are not “manual self-love” ye dirty feckers!

I don’t think I’ve ever been 100% body confident in myself but I don’t think I’ve ever really let it affect me to much. I like to think I wear what I want, be it in fashion or not, if I like it I’ll wear it. If I’m suffering from a “bad skin on my back” day I’ll wear something to cover it and if I’m feeling fat then I’ll wear something that makes me feel less fat or covers my lumpy bits. If I feel comfortable and I’m happy wearing it, then why shouldn’t I? The choices I make, I make to suit my height and my shape, I make them for me. Of course I love people to say, ooh you look great or I love what you’re wearing, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you can’t win them all lads!  Obviously, if you’ve read my previous post Slima-marinky-mee! or follow my FB page you’ll know I’m a Slimming Worlder, so yes my weight did bother me but even when I was heavier, I like to think it didn’t affect my clothing choices to much, or made me feel like a bad person. Yes I do feel better that I’ve lost weight, but I wore a jumpsuit at my size 16 heaviest, I loved it, I feel like I rocked it, just like I love my new size 12 jumpsuit….my weight does not define me…it annoys me but it’s not the sum of me.

I was a little bit nervous as I was going on my own and so knew nobody. Normally I’d see an event like this and think well nobody to go with so not going, but as time waits for no man, one must seize every opportunity, and so I booked it. Thankfully I was greeted by a smart looking waitress with a glass of prosecco. Phew! At least I could just stand and drink…it would make me look like I was doing something. Anyway once I was in the door, armed with my prosecco, I could take in my surroundings. I’d never been in a Collectif shop before and I was obviously missing out, looking online is just not the same. Everything is so bright and colourful in store. So many colours, so many fab items of clothing….and sweet baby Jesus, there was a sale on!! It wasn’t only the clothes that were so bright and lovely looking though, there were amazingly dressed ladies of all shapes, heights and sizes everywhere and one cool sales guy. The outfits! The hair!! OMG the hair!!

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Myself & Abby…total babe!

As I was coming in there was a gorgeous blonde with an amazing figure and the biggest victory rolls I think I’ve ever seen greeting the ladies who came in before me, this was Abby, the hostess. It’s hard to imagine that this gorgeous lady ever had any body confidence issues…or any confidence issues at all tbh, I’m pretty sure her atoms are made of sunshine!

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Fuller Figure Fuller Bust, Moi & Ivory Lovelust

On walking around some more, I spotted Georgina Horne (AKA Fuller Figure Fuller Bust or as I like to call her, the woman who can work everything, she’s the shizz!). It was through her FB page that I learned about the event. There was another babe, with close cut hair and one of the few of us not wearing a dress, that looked so familiar, like you know when you feel like you know someone from somewhere but you can’t think where or how…turns out it was Miss Leyah Shanks, Mother of The Body Confidence Revolution #TBCR.

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Leyah

It was so weird, like meeting celebs, although I only know these people through social media, it was kind of surreal meeting them in really real life. I wandered about the clothes rails, making mental notes of what I obviously NEEEEEDED in my life, cos I have “NO” clothes and made conversation with a few people. Inside I might have been slightly nervous and wondering why I came alone, but I normally just suck it up and go for it, so I did, and nobody thought I was nuts. I really wanted to say hi to George as she’d helped me choose an outfit via Snapchat the week before, but I thought I’d seem like a sack so took a seat. As I watched ladies have their hair teased into retro up-dos, Abby made her way over to say hi. She was really sweet, we had a great chat about where we were from, work, the event and she suggested I go get my hair done too. So I joined the short queue and Abby introduced me to another girl, who’d come alone. Whilst loitering I went in for the kill and tapped George on the shoulder. I explained who I was and was delighted to find she remembered our snap convo annnd I just had to tell her her boobs were even more mahooosive looking in really real life….haaa #starstruck!

 

160901013059_wmAfter having the opportunity to shop, try things on, get our hair & photos done, eat yummy canapes, drink prosecco annnnnd receive goodie bags, Abby asked us to take a seat. Herself, Georgina and Leyah all spoke about how they’ve all had issues with their bodies, their weight, their shapes, their confidence, anxiety and how the media has affected how we think we should all look. There were three totally different shaped ladies standing in front of us and I wanted to look like all of them, but at the same time why? There is only one of me, I am so rare I should be on an endangered list lads! There may have been somebody in that room wishing they looked like me! It’s so hard to remember everything that was said but one quote that stuck with me was from George, “try finding influences in YOURSELF that don’t make you feel sh*t”. We can look to others for inspiration and we can look at others in admiration but we still need to be us, not a copy. None of these women have said they are 100% happy with themselves every day, they have all said they have crap days where they don’t like what they see, as I think all of us do. What they are trying to say is what we see on the glossy pages of mags has been tweaked and airbrushed to Barbie-like proportions. For the most part it’s not what a normal woman looks like. For a start not “every” woman in that mag should be a size 6-8 and 5’7 because not every woman is a size 6-8. Most women will have blemishes, or scars, or stretchmarks or uneven skin tone…some even have tattoos, piercings and God forbid…..BODYHAIR!!! Nobody is saying don’t strive for YOUR version of perfection if it makes you happy but make sure you’re doing it because it makes you happy, not because it’s how society says you should look. Shur if we all looked the same it would be pretty boring eh?160901013332_wm

I don’t think I’ve said everything I want to say here but as this post is getting quite long, I need to draw to a close. I know that I came out of the Self-Love and Style event feeling confident, feeling positive but the whole time I was sitting there I kept thinking of how much somebody very dear to me along with one or two others could really, reeeally benefit from being here and hearing from all these really cool, stylish shapely ladies. Just to hear from people you don’t know, that you don’t have to be tall and slim to be beautiful. If any of you ever get the chance to attend  one of Abby’s events or an event like this, I’d highly recommend it.

I’ll finish by telling you about a conversation I had with a friend…. I sent her a couple of pictures of what I might be wearing to this event. She text back to say I look amazing and that she has no fashion sense. I replied saying, you probably do (have fashion sense) but you have convinced yourself you can’t wear something because of your shape. I told her about an epiphany I had whilst ironing a few nights before. If something bad happened to me where I ended up not dying but maybe paralysed but with full brain function, something where I was pretty much bed bound forever, I would hate to have all that time to think about all the things I should have done or worn but didn’t because I was afraid of what other people might think or say. Better I just do it now while I still can and not regret when I can’t.

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i just wanted to show you one of the dresses I picked up at the event from Collectif!

 

*I hope I haven’t offended anyone with my “epiphany”…it’s not intended that way.

Love
Donna xx

 

Beavergate.

I’m going to start this by saying if you’re somebody who believes your partner’s perfectly coiffeured lady garden or manscape naturally grows (or doesn’t appear to grow) in the pretty shape you see, then stop reading now. If your my brother, you probably won’t wanna read this either!

For the rest of us, who live in the real world of plucking and waxing, please read on.

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Photo credit to Allie Dragoo on Flickr

I dunno what possessed me Friday, to go and have a bikini wax. I mean I’ve had them before, they’re not fun. Maybe it’s the hot weather, tricking my brain into falsely preparing for a holiday I’m not going on…I dunno, I normally just DIY it with a tube of Veet at home. (I tried home waxing once. NOT.WORTH.THE.SAVING! First strip was manageable but forget about it after that, your brain now knows the pain you’re about to inflict on YOURSELF again and won’t allow it. The wax then starts drying, making it harder to pull off ensuing in an even more painful, slightly bloodier experience.)  Anyway, I normally go a little bit out of my area, I don’t need anybody I’m likely to run into at the nursery knowing what my lady bits look like. Plus the place I normally go to, in the grand scheme of waxing one’s nether regions, is amazing. However, these precious couple of child free hours are hard to come by (and no it’s not a 2hr job to cultivate my booosh, smart ass!) so I thought I’d chance a local salon……..

I notice as I walk in the door, there’s a special on “The Hollywood” today…hmm…no thanks, not my style. Now although the salon is full of ladies getting primped and preened, I still don’t feel comfortable shouting “hey-ay, I wanna get me fananny waxed please” over the hum of the hair dryer, so I just mumble an answer to the lady asking. Who in turn, very loudly relays that I’m here for a hollywood to her co-worker. I’m not but we can discuss styling once I’m not standing in the bloody doorway.

Said co-worker…we’ll call her Tina, for handiness sake, beckoned me to follow. I explain I’d just like a brazilian. Brazil’s always appealed to me more than Hollywood anyway. In Irish terms, your one basically says, “grand job, no bother, drop your knickers and hop up there like a flattened buddha”, and so I do. Now since attending the non-local Mecca of waxing, I’ve been forever seeking the local version annnnd I’m still currently searching, everything is compared to them. Tina has assured me she’s great at what she does, with people complimenting her on how little pain she causes, she even waxes pretty much all of her own body herself. Grand job Tina…but we shall see. She started at the top of my thigh, first strip off, it wasn’t to bad….now if you’re a beautician and there is some sort of order that mingeinas should be stripped in, then forgive me, Tina may very well have followed that order but it’s all a painful, breath holding blur to me. Unfortunately I don’t have solid upper thighs, shur listen we can’t all be perfect, and I’m no expert and I feel like Tina isn’t either, cos she is just ripping those wax strips off my inner thighs like annoying wall paper off a wall. I suggest to her that I should hold my thighs taut…lord jayzus, I’m clearly the guru here lads. Maybe it’s the fact that she feels like she shouldn’t be at work today as she’s just started her period and her tum and back are killing her. In fairness if I felt like this and had to come to work do defluff somebody else’s foof, the same thing that’s causing pain in me, then I’d probably give it a going over meself! She then has the cop on to ask me to hold my Mum-tum (why are these so hard to get rid of??) taut and attacks there…a small mercy I suppose.

Now, now…now the fun really gets going…Tina pops her head up and says “oh, I’m sorry, I forgot”. Huh? Yep…she’s only gone and scalped the lot! FFS!! She’s kinda looking at me as if to say, what will I do…she may even have telepathically asked me the question. Shur what the jayzus could she do? Stick it back on? The look I gave her said that, but my mouth betrayed me and said ah, shur what can you do, it’ll be fine! Don’t worry she says, I’ll give you Hollywood at no extra cost. Oh jee…fcuking thanks love, was the look I shot her but my mouth once again betrayed me and said “ah don’t worry I’ll pay for it!” DAM YOU MOUTH!!! I swear to God the non-local place must put some sort of calming, numbing gas in their air con cos I really don’t remember this happening…or maybe this is how the Hollywood goes….I actually really thought she was gonna give me an internal exam at one point and she most certainly burned the barn doors twice…despite me wincing and saying “wow, that’s hot!”. There was a knock on the door then, how long will you be Tina? Ten minutes. Ten minutes!!! Ten FECKING minutes…ah listen T, leave me be, I’ll make like a baby hedgehog suffering alopecia and leave. Thankfully though, after a rather close head-almost-in-my-vajayjay- inspection Tina seems happy enough and starts slathering on cream followed by clouds of talc. Oh thank God for small mercies, I go to get up. I’m not sure how it happend or how she managed it but as she’s saying turn over to me, she’s kinda managed to flip me like a burger onto my tum!! WTF IS GOING ON??? Yeah lads, shur didn’t I forget, I was upgraded to the Hollywood!! FML!

 

I’d just like to add, on later inspection, I’m pretty sure Tina removed skin in places, she IS not from Mecca Minge Defluffers and sadly is unlikely to ever make the grade. On a happier note my hoo ha is feeling alot happier now the whole ordeal is behind it….haa behind it!

The things we do to be fluff free!!

Love Donna x

 

 

Travelling with a demon toddler.

Yay! Summer holiday time (Boo! The ridiculous hike upwards in travel prices). Yay if you get to actually get on a plane and go some where! Boo…actually God love ya if, like me, your child, the beautiful angel traveller you thought you knew turns into a monster.160720115046_wm

I can’t start at the beginning because I can’t actually remember our outward journey but by jayzus….the return journey has to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me whilst travelling. Here we go….

We’re standing in the queue to our already delayed flight, Small Monkey, my Sis and me. There’s some fairly toff-nosed business looking guys behind us and the two cool dudes, my Sis felt were trying to stand on her shoulders in a previous queue ahead of us. Joy of f**king joys lads, this is the beginning of my nightmare. If any of ye know my sis, you’ll know patience is not her strongest point and she wasn’t very impressed with being close to these guys again, Small Monkey is starting to be a butt and they’ve already thrown us a look. Our flight is delayed, Monkey decides he doesn’t want to queue, I don’t blame him, I don’t want to queue either. However wandering off to hang out of a manky rubbish bin is not cool though and, after asking him three times already to come back, I go and drag him back to the queue. He’s not impressed! I’m not bloody impressed either, I now have an unbalanced suitcase leaning on my leg, a gym bag slung over my shoulder, cutting into me and a wiggley worm child hanging out of me. The business guys look on snootily. Monkey is being quite the arse now though to be fair, with shouts like “stop, you’re hurting me” and “letttt meee oooout”. He starts head butting my leg, I’d like to point out here, I dunno where he gets that from. I’ve never head butted anyone except for this one time in third year….I don’t even headbutt hubby when he’s scaling my last nerves! To look at him, you’d think I was skinning him alive. I HATE when he does this to me, it breaks my heart and I feel so cruel, BUT this is an airport and running off to play is not an option. My sister is not impressed now either. I’m not sure if she wants to murder Monkey for being a butt or me for failing to control him. This hurts me too ‘cos I now feel somewhat of a failure but I’m at my wits end. Monkey is now laying on the floor kicking at the Cool Dudes bag! FML!! I know my sister meant well when she started telling him off, but I was cracking under the pressure. The judgey looks from Business Guys, Cool Dudes, the embarrassment that my Sis thinks I’m not firm enough (it’s very hard to be firm with your child in public), the disbelief that my child could do this to me, the heat, the jayzus bags hanging off me…I felt so bad when my reply to her telling him off was “when you have a child and you know what this is like, then you can tell him off, otherwise I’ll deal with him”.

Surprisingly, the further fecking delay to our flight was just the break we all needed. The queue dispersed and we went to sit on the window, where I could now deposit Small Monkey to watch the airplanes. My back was breaking, I was being stubborn, I was now carrying him, who was still tryna get a few headbutts in, the gym bag, which had now indented my shoulder and wheeling the curse-a-god wobbley suitcase. I wanted to cry, I know I was inside.

We’re finally on the plane….guess what? Delayed!!! Sitting on the runway now…thanks for the change of scenery Ryanair. Small Monkey has the window seat, my sister the aisle. In my head I’m singing “butthole child to the left of me, moody sis to right, here I am stuck in the middle, f**k me!”. Monkey is getting fidgety again…he’s playing with the blinds on the windows and wants to get ooooooout!! I do too! Me brain is melting! Woooo! We’re leaving. we’re departing….hail Buddha, Allah and Jesus! I put the seatbelt on fartarse, he’s not impressed but he really kicks up a stink when I tell him the blinds must stay up. By jayzus lads!! I was at the end of my tether, my sis leaned across and told Monkey he was in serious trouble. The rest of the flight was pretty much spent with Monkey crying and SCREAMING to get out, me facing away from my sis and the rest of the plane but dreading looking at my monster child, silently crying. I bribed him with sweets, colouring book and the one thing that would have worked was the f**kity, f**k  f**k ipad thingy (it’s not an actual ipad) which froze literally as Cars started. Things got so bad he eventually got a smack on the hand, which sounded like it echoed all over the plane adding tears of guilt to what already fell.

Thankfully we landed without anybody being murdered or exiting the plane mid Irish Sea. The only thing that made that flight a little better was another passenger telling me, she understood why he was behaving that way and not to worry, it happens. Thank you stranger. xx

You’ve read this far and you think it’s over….so did I lads, so did I. Cue the train journey from hell!! It began with Monkey being a complete bum in the station. This involved more laying and rolling on the floor, planking or flipping backwards violently when I picked him up…more screaming that I was hurting him. It didn’t get any better on the platform….screaming and crying and slapping Mammy. My Sis wasn’t impressed and even started to cry, saying she couldn’t stand seeing him treat me like this. What do you say to that? This made me sad and I felt even more of a d**k parent. The actual train journey didn’t get any better with me having to take him into the little sectioned off 1st class part of the carriage (obvs empty) where we had a little chat involving me taking all a nearly three year olds worldly goods away….eventually he calmed down and apologised to his auntie and me for “shouting & screaming”.160720115640_wm

Still I tearfully phoned hubby and told him to meet us at the station with the buggy…and the cattle prod!

Happy travels peeps! xx

 

 

The Women Hunters

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photo from Parents on Flickr

Ok firstly, calm down! This is not a post about weirdo, stalkers of women, I’m referring to my viewing last night.

My mind is currently boggled! I’ve watched Women Who Kill Lions and I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why you would want to kill something defenseless, for sport or just for the craic! It’s not attacking you, it’s nowhere near you, yet you have gone, sometimes travelled thousands of miles and stalked it out to shoot it.

There were two women featured on the the show and both have suffered serious online backlash, with Ricky Gervais adding fuel to one fire via Twitter. I’m not going to name them, as the cockier one of the two, a Canadian, pointed out, not only does she not care what people think but the more people talk about how disgusting she is, the more famous she becomes. Bizarrely, AND I’M NOT AGREEING WITH HER ACTIONS, the American came across (to me) as the slightly nicer of the two (as in, if I met both women on the street without knowing of them, I’d probably take to the American more).

So the American, from Wyoming reckons that it’s part of their culture to hunt, being from the West and all. Maybe it is and it’s important to preserve our culture and heritage but is it really necessary to hunt as she does? I’m  pretty sure there are supermarkets now. It also really bothers me that from a young age kids are encouraged to hunt, hence encouraged to use guns… American gun laws are utterly ridiculous as it is. During the program, we’re taken on a gun shopping spree with the American, where we’re shown lots of lovely guns, some are even pink, you know, pretty for the girly girls. The bit that gets me most is where she lovingly strokes a smaller pink rifle saying it’s “awesome that they’re not just selling it to women but for little girls too”. WHAT THE JAYZUS?? THEY SPECIFICALLY MAKE GUNS FOR LITTLE HANDS!!!!!! This woman also seems to think it’s AWESOME for the kids to be outside rather than stuck inside on the computer. On this I couldn’t agree more but that’s where we differ, I’m quite happy and content with my son just going outdoors and climbing trees without throwing a gun and shooting sh*t into the mix! I mean there has to be 101 other things you can do to make the big wide “boring” outdoors more exciting than kill animals? Go and break a few neighbours windows if you really need a buzz!

Now the Canadian, much cockier and was pretty blatant about how little she cares about how anyone feels towards her for her actions. So far she has killed 29 different species, with her 10yr old son accompanying her on many of the trips (he’s currently gearing up for his first bear hunt!!!!) One of these kills was a lion, at which she seems very emotional about and by emotional, I mean pleased! I just don’t understand it….how are people allowed to do this? It’s not like lions are over running the world…aren’t they on their way to making it onto the endangered species list? I might understand if they were given free reign on something like pigeons, pigeons are a menace but not lions or zebras. I’m not sick of seeing zebras, I think I’d like to see few more to be fair. This woman’s next hunt will be a rhino, which she will graciously “greenhunt” (use a tranquilizer dart rather than a bullet). She then says an elephant will be next on her list, her friend asks why she can’t greenhunt that, to which she basically just says, nah mate don’t fancy it. She actually has no valid reason for killing an elephant….this astounds me!

Canadian woman sees herself exactly where we humans are meant to be…hunting. We are carnivores and it’s in our nature to hunt. Canadian also points out she did eat some of the lion, although I kinda feel like she’s just saying that, using the old “kill to eat” line to justify it a little. It’s almost a little strange that we do get upset by what these women do, as we raise animals to eat every day, maybe it’s just that the rest of us work off a fairly set list of whats acceptable to kill and eat and what’s not. I can see both women’s points a little on the “we are natural hunters” side of things, as without evolution I guess that’s where we’d be, but with evolution it’s where we’ve moved from too and killing animals for sport shouldn’t be acceptable. The thing is though hunting is big business in some of these places and thanks to governmental greed, if there’s money to be made then it’s unlikely to stop any time soon.

I found it kind of funny when the American woman spoke about the famous giraffe picture that instigated the Twitter assault. Apparently there were lots of valid reasons for killing this particular giraffe…he could no longer produce the goods to make a baby, he’d been kicked outta his gang, this lad was ready to die, not a bean worth living for so he may as well be hunted. Shur if he wasn’t he’d just go to waste! I just kept thinking of a little old grandad…oh shur listen lads, Grandad’s just a dried up old fossil now and we don’t really like hanging out with him anymore so lets just do him in! Could you imagine if that’s how we treated each other?? My God!! American woman also pointed out that it was good for that particular community, the economy even, that she’d shot the giraffe rather than him just dying and rotting out in the bush somewhere, at least this way they got some use out of him!

I also find it a bit weird that the American went hunting whilst pregnant with her daughter and took her young son along with her, after (I’m assuming) a bout of morning sickness! I feel strange in that, she was pregnant, growing a life and knowingly going out and taking a life…killing a life. It’s just weird and a bit unsettling. I guess it’s just hard to imagine a life giving woman as a life taker. Weirder still, is that I’m a little annoyed with myself for feeling this way, as doesn’t it seem a little sexist, almost like saying women can’t be hunters?

Did any of you see the show?

Donna x