Guilty Pleasures

I don't really feel guilty about pleasure.

That said. I don't drink, smoke or partake in legal or illegal highs, or lows. The things that bring me pleasure are nothing to feel guilty about.

When I'm neglecting everything and everyone, sorry kids, with my nose in a book I am taking care of my mental faculties and setting a great example for the kids to read more.

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My coffee is fair trade so the more I drink the better for farmers in South America. If anyone ever works out just how much Cafe Direct Machu Picchu coffee I consume there will be a Peruvian village hastily renamed "Boobellinaville".

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Some may say my stationery hoard is out of control. I know how much people appreciate a handwritten note. Those cards, notepaper, stickers and washi spread joy and random acts of kindness.

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So there will be no guilt as a side order to my pleasure. Really I'm doing it all for someone else.

Self care Sunday

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Meditation is one of those things I've been trying to do for years. It has featured on my New Year resolutions, on and off, for over a decade.

If I meditate at any point after lunch it's not meditation it's a nap. But I'm not a morning person so before lunch I'm running around like a loon trying to find that extra hour I slept through. Bit of a disconnect there.

So I've been trying to retrain myself to be a morning person. Going to bed early and getting up at an ungodly hour (6am) to meditate, write and blissfully drink a cup of coffee before it goes stone cold or gets a toy dropped in it. 

The days that I manage to get up and get downstairs without waking up a child to bring with me are wonderful. The sense of achievement and calm really does last me all day. 

Now can someone just tell puff so that the wee terror starts sleeping through the night again. If I'm spending 2 hours in the middle of the night cuddling a baby who refuses to be horizontal I can't be held responsible for switching the alarm off before the first chime and grabbing some much needed shut eye!

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What day is it?

So I signed up for BEDM full of ideas and with reams of notes about the first few posts I was going to do.

The one thing I neglected to do was to work out what day it started on. Yeah I managed to spend all of yesterday unaware that it was May Day and under the impression that April had somehow grown at 31st. Nope I never did learn the 30 days rhyme.

In fairness this has provided a pretty good introduction. The internet equivalent of running in late, trailing chaos and apologies. Which as my friends and family will testify sums me up.

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The unsent letter

Today we had a visit from Puff's Social Worker. It was a planned visit so the house was clean, tidy and staged to create the impression it looks like that all the time. She brought a letter with her. From birth mum for when Puff is older.

Having a tiny bit of self awareness made me realise I didn't want to read this with an audience. A good choice; it reduced me to tears in the first sentence. 

The sadness, regret and promises to never forget her beautiful wee girl are heartbreaking. Even more so when you take into account all the missed opportunities and choices I might find easy to label stupid.

It won't help birth mum to get a letter from me but it doesn't mean I don't want to write one. I just won't be passing it to a social worker to get to her. 

Dear ****

We share a daughter. The little girl you kept safe and warm for 9 months is right now tucked up safe and warm in her bedroom in my house.

The tragedy of circumstances that led us to be here does not escape me. Yet I am unable to look at this with anything other than unbridled joy. 

She will grow up always knowing that both her Mum's love her. She will know she grew in your tummy but you just couldn't look after her so social work found us. 

She is a much wanted daughter, sister, granddaughter and niece and will grow up surrounded by people who only want good things for her. She will know to count you as one of the people wishing her the world and sending her love. And in time she will be told of the incredibly brave decision you made in signing the paperwork.

I'll keep your letter safe and when the time is right will be there to help her understand the love that went into the writing of it.

Thank you.

Currently

As my lack of recent posts might suggest I seem to have misplaced my blogging mojo. It might have been put out with a dirty nappy, sterilised with a bottle or just have run away from the chaos. So when I read Bex's Currently post a wee lightbulb appeared over my head and I'm unashamed to be rocking the copycat vibes.

Reading

I'm reading loads at the moment - 6 books so far this month, boom. But I'm not going to talk about any of them, brilliant as most of them were.

I'm loving is It's Time to Sleep, My Love. It has a panda on the front cover so of course smudge wanted to buy it for puff and I'm so glad she caught me on a weak willpower day. It is such a lovely wee story to read to a sleepy baby and the illustrations are beautiful.

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Hysterically, smudge heard me reading it to her baby sister and was a bit put out. Her new bedtime routine is a chapter of something age appropriate and this - she's 9 years old!

Watching

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SOA baby. 

I love the escapism of a Californian Motorcycle club and have to admit that despite the fact he definitely looks like he is need of a long bath and a good scrub Jax Teller might play a small part in the attraction of this show! 

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Listening

My November Prudence and the Crow box came with a mix CD. It's in the Kitchen CD player so I can dance around singing into a wooden spoon as I puree all the veg a growing baby consumes.

Recommending

Not really recommending more of a forcing everyone to agree with me on how brilliant they are by buying all the small children I know Blade and Rose leggings. Puff now has a few pairs of these and I am awestruck by just how good they are. They look amazing, are lovely and warm and just fit so much better for small wigglers than ordinary lycra leggings. I would love to post a picture of puff rocking them but all I can manage is a blurry fuzz - she just refuses to sit still!

Loving

Still loving winter and the boot wearing opportunities it provides. I did have a momentary wobble about what I am every going to wear on my feet when summer arrives. It didn't last long, I remembered I live in the west coast of Scotland, summer is months away and surely I can put up with non-boot footwear for 3 days. My purple DM triumphs are still going strong and I fall more in love with them every time I wear them. Which seeing as they seem to be surgically attached to my feet at the moment is saying something.

Making

I made the most delicious Herby Cobbler for tea on Thursday. Seeing as I'm the only one who enjoys lamb I decided to be wonderfully unselfish and substitute the lamb for stewing steak. Served with mash it was a perfect tea for a cold night and worth the faff of the preparation. 

That said, next time I'm substituting the baby onions for a couple of normal ones sliced!

Anticipating

I've got a really busy week coming up - something fun in every box of the next weeks filofax page. Brand new babies to visit, catching up with people and generally opportunities to drink coffee and eat cake. The best kind of week then. 

Bye Bye 2014

So it's the last day of 2014. I sat last night scribbling a list of all the good things 2014 contained and was gratified to find it incredibly easy. 2014 contained more than a few amazing experiences.

Of course it wasn't long before I found something to feel guilty about. Default setting. Why didn't I blog about more of these things?

So on the last day of the old year I'm leaving behind all the guilt. I'm going to make sure 2015 is bigger, better and bloggier.

Acts of Wisdom

Way back in the pre t'interweb days all the cool kids read Smash Hits. Well all the cool kids in my incredibly rural and backward primary school containing only 38 pupils did.

Smash Hits contained posters to adorn my room with Bros, Jason Donovan and Madonna, song lyrics so that I could torture my family even when I was listening to my walkman and celebrity interviews asking a lot of pop stars about cheese.

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In one Pulitzer worthy article I read all about the healthy teeth of Kylie and Jason. It left quite an impression. I made a solemn promise that like Kylie I would have such healthy teeth I would never need a filling. Cue a life long obsession with teeth brushing and a competitive streak that it appears is absent in all other walks of my life.

I was doing pretty well with my pledge until my wisdom teeth. Three of the pesky blighters needed to be pulled in my late teens and early twenties because there just wasn't room for them in my mouth and teeth growing in side ways is less than pleasant. But my top right one grew in straight and since there was room for it the dentist decided that he had tortured me enough, it could stay.

What I had neglected to tell him was my new tooth was so far back that I either gagged when trying to brush it or rammed the toothbrush into the side of my mouth giving myself mouth ulcers. Unfortunately, my dastardly plan was foiled when, within a couple of years of it's appearance it was decaying and needed a filling.

I was properly distraught, I had failed my 8 year old self. I got the filling and pretended that I didn't want to invent a time machine so that I could go back and never read the article and make a promise that was destined to be broken. 

So when last month at my check up the dentist said that there was more decay on the same already fillinged tooth and that they were going to need to redo it I was stoic, it still only counted as one failure right? It takes ages to get an appointment for my dentist so I had ages to sulk before I was due back. Sulk and plot.

What is the point of getting fillings on a tooth that I can't keep clean? Surely it would be better off just being pulled? It's not like anyone will ever see the gap. If they are going to have to give me the horrific anaesthetic jags I'd rather it was for something that was going to be permanent.

So I went yesterday and much to my dentists surprise and the dental nurses utter horror asked them to just pull the tooth. The dentist admitted that it made a fair bit of sense and was probably easier than a filling anyway. Needless to say that I didn't tell him all about Kylie and Jason interviews in Smash Hits, I wanted a tooth pulled not a stay in a psychiatric ward!

So today I can proudly say that I have no fillings at all in any of my teeth. Or I could if my face, mouth and head didn't hurt so much that I just want to curl in my duvet nest forever.