New year, same old me #2

New year, same old me #2

Guess who’s back? Back again! Sophie’s back.. tell a friend.

I’ve been slacking a bit on the whole blogging front and I apologise I’ve just been so busy with festive stuff and everyone has been bloody ill!!

However, I’ve taken the time to reflect the year and write out my New Years resolutions before this Christmas kicks off with a bang and I get too pissed.

1. To be me! Keeping it real this year and not caring so much what other think. Time is so precious and I have 3 people who love me for me. I love Instagram and social media I mean it’s a bit part of my life much but you can get sucked into it.

2. To plan a kick ass wedding! I need to get my arse into gear and get organised.

3. Work on my brand and make to time work on professional goals.

4. Become organised. Keep on top of cleaning stuff, pack lunches and Mum admin.

5. Stop wearing frumpy clothes. I hate the way I’ve become. I used to loves clothes! I feel so hopeless about clothing at the moment and want to get myself to be me.

6. For the love of all that is holy I need to lose my extra five chins I’ve acquired recently.

7. #goodvibesonly *cringes* but it’s the truth. For example I used to get wound up with one particular Dad who treated his children like absolute shite and spoke to them almost abusively trying to be funny probably but got away with it more compared to what a poorer father would of done, it drove me crazy. One day I thought I’m just to do something here…. I unfollowed him and all the accounts that bothered me. I forgot about them and was far happier for it.

8. Get Delilah to nursery on time. I’ve been a little tardy recently and I’m annoyed with my tardiness recently!!! It’s so hard to get two toddlers out on time.

9. To get the kids potty trained if it’s the last thing I do!

Hope everyone has a fabulous Christmas.

Lots of love,

Sophie, Paddy, Delilah + Indiana

Xxxxx

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A letter for my PND baby,

A letter for my PND baby,

Dear Indiana my little post natal baby,

 

I counted down the minutes for your arrival

I kissed your scan picture good night

Delilah and I cuddled your bump

I counted your kicks to check you was alright

 

I set up and your nursery and put together your stroller

We went to the scan to find out your gender

We was so prepared for your entrance into the world

We was all set for our fourth family member

 

I wasn’t ready for the sadness

I wasn’t ready for the tears

I wasn’t ready to pick you up

Or kiss your tiny ears

 

I didn’t understand why I was so unhappy

Why I couldn’t stop crying so loud

All I wanted to do was enjoy you and make memories

But instead there a gloomy cloud

 

I took my pills and talked it over

11 Months have passed and i’m finely battling through

I love you forever and always,

My little baby boy blue.

 

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Guest blogger- Lucie from www.mamjustbreathe.wordpress.com

Guest blogger- Lucie from www.mamjustbreathe.wordpress.com

Lucie has just started in the world of blogging and her first entry is being guest appeared on Mummy Deer. WELCOME LUCIE.

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I’m Lucie and I’m 32, living in Cornwall. Lover and mama to one beautiful specimen who forgot how to breathe and just be.

A week ago I sat in CDG airport in Paris, without my bebe but with my lover; I sat in the departure lounge silently patting myself on the back.

If you would have told me three years ago that this would be possible, I would have laughed, primarily at you for even suggesting this and secondly at myself for the state I was in.

Three years ago I was trapped, trapped within my parents’ house, trapped within myself holding a six month old bebe.

I sat on my parents sofa, frozen in time, crying; my parents questioning the  ‘baby blues’ to which we all believed that what I was experiencing was a natural feeling for all first time mothers.

Truth be told, eight weeks before my due date, my parents and I packed my bags and left the house I was sharing with daughters father. Fast forward six months in and I was finally coming to the terms of bringing up a child all on my own. Overcome with responsibility, guilt and personal inadequacies I sunk into a deep hole of crippling anxiety.

Anxiety was not a new friend to me; I welcomed it into my life in my late teens following secondary school bullying, shitty boyfriends and a few too many bad choices. Despite my amazing childhood that my parents had provided for me; it simply wasn’t enough; or more to the point I wasn’t.

I assumed that my ‘magical’ pregnancy would wave goodbye to my demons, turned out they were lying dormant waiting for the most opportune moment to strike.

Fast forward to the present and I am finding that the more mothers that I cross paths with is that this is extremely common; and many, many birthing stories aren’t picture perfect. Not quite the classic ‘one born every minute’ episode and after experiencing this life changing moment, mentally, physically and psychologically we as mothers are drained; and how can we turn to someone and ask for help when selfishly we have been granted with the most perfect creation: our child.

Once when I reached out for help, I was told to look at what I had and realise that what you have is more than enough; to hear what I was experiencing was ‘alien’ and shouldn’t be happening as I had been blessed. If only it were that simple; I could see a beautiful bebe, I could also see fear, guilt and people’s opinions on my forthcoming judgements and child rearing abilities.

Anxiety and depression within pregnancy and post birth can strike; I painted my face in clown make up, I slathered my face in a ‘show’ smile. Ironically I hate clowns, funny though I feel like the last three years I have been trying to remove my stage makeup and hang up my bowler’s hat, gregarious iconic outfit and exit the circus tent.

I found solace in endless cups of coffee, laughing with my mother and my best friend sending me endless love via a postcard.

All I needed was a  vent; a blank page, possibly an ear, time and a mirror. My dads theory; a mirror.  ‘Get in front of that mirror’. That god damn mirror, the mirror to stand tall in; to take a look at your miraculous self and tell yourself out loud that today, just today, as tony would say you are grrrrrrreat.

Once you realise that what you feel and write down is not the end of the world, it’s actually not that bad and neither are you.

Love Lucie x

follow and subscribe to Lucie at http://www.mamajustbreathe.wordpress.com

If you are interested in featuring as a guest blogger please contact me via email at sophieakamumydeer@gmail.com