Saturday, 20 January 2018

The One With PhD Applications (46 months + 9 days)


Why do I want to do a PhD. No bloody idea. What else am I going to do? Work in a pub for the rest of my life? No thank you, no no no 100% no. I would be totally bored and want to shoot myself in the face every single day. I want to do something that I enjoy. I want to do something that actually MEANS something. I want to save the world because I clearly have some kind of mental disorder that gives me a grand sense of self importance when in actual fact I am just a tiny human who is completely irrelevant to the universe and nobody gives a shit about 98’s when you’ve got a 2.2.

To be completely blunt, I’m nosey. I like knowing things. I like finding things out. I’m curious. And that killed the cat but, whatever. I’m really not in the right frame of mind to be doing this right now. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I’m no longer trying to write PhD applications and I’ve inadvertently started writing a blog post instead. I’ve listened to the same stupid French song on repeat for what feels like 36 hours and I’m not over it yet. Probably losing my mind. My contacts are all fuzzy and I can’t even see the fucking screen of the computer right now.

I want to be Dr Bones. I want to discover something amazing. I’m GOING to discover something amazing, I can just feel it. I just need you to let me. This is all bullshit anyway.

How come I can write 263 words of shit but not 263 words for PhD?

Actually... that helped. 

Monday, 1 January 2018

The One With 2018 (45 months + 21 days)

I guess the easiest way to begin is also the most obvious:

Happy New Year!

There are numerous things to report in the World of Bones and Piglet. Many, many things to say. ALWAYS so many things to say. However, now is not the time for in-depth analyses of the previous two months of our lives. This is supposed to be a post on reflections and resolutions, as all New Years posts obviously are.

Having said that, there are a few points that I need to preface this post with... So, here goes:

Bones and Piglet are having a bit of a tough time at the moment. We're financially ruined and living on credit cards; we left NNB's house. We now live in Monskeaton. It's really lovely. I have a whole draft post with pictures and everything. But now is not the time to show you beautiful pictures of our mattress bed and Piglet's "living room" (I think because she doesn't have a bed in it, she feels it's not appropriate to call it a bedroom. Totally understand her logic, tbh).

We currently have 0p (...-0p) as tax credits/housing benefit have (at present) taken 6 weeks (and 2 days) to process our application. We should be able to last on credit cards and wages until February 1st; that is when we start seriously falling apart. Hopefully we won't have to wait that long though. But again, now is not the time to discuss finances.

I have 17 million and 1 exams to revise for (and have been drowning in assignments for what feels like forever), which is hard- for both of us. I also have PhD applications to get in (still). I managed to get two weeks off from work so we've been at my parents house for Christmas, which has been lovely, but not overly productive vis a vis uni work. But...actually maybe now is the time to talk about this.

We travelled down on the 22nd. I hadn't been sure whether or not to go via Stoke before going to my parents or after when we were leaving (so we could see Great Gran and Great Gramps and Great Nana). I can't remember why I chose what I did, but I decided that it made more sense to see all the grandparents after Christmas. Everybody told me the cat had died about 16 times in the first day. Piglet asked where the cat was. Told her he'd gone on holiday to see his cat family over Christmas. Piglet is too small for death. Thought I was a tip top mother. Gave myself a pat on the back. EXCELLENT PARENTING BONES.

It was nice. It was nice to see everyone. We had a really enjoyable Christmas. Played lots of monopoly (I lost each and every game until the one we played earlier tonight honestly monopoly hates me so much).

It was during one of these monopoly games, on the 27th December, that we got a call from my nana's neighbour saying that she'd been taken into hospital. I called the hospital. Was on hold for ages. And they couldn't find her. I just kept getting transferred to different departments and nobody could see her name and then they said to call somewhere else in like 20 minutes.

Hospitals are busy places right? It takes a while to find someone on the system, yeah?

She died. Great Nana had died. My nana had died. Before I started making phone calls, before anyone had managed to get hold of us, she had died. And my youngest sister discovered her nana had died, and my mother discovered her mother had died by the sound of me shrieking in a heap on the office floor. Which is probably not the best way to deliver bad news to somebody, if we're being honest.

I couldn't tell Piglet the cat had gone; how do I explain this to her?

I loved my Nana. She was a strong lady, my Nana was. She was with me when Piglet rolled over for the first time. She was always so happy to see us whenever we went round.

I can't remember the last time I saw her. I sent her a message the day before she passed away. But I can't remember when I last saw her. And I have guilt. And I'm sad. And I don't think I fully realise that the next time I go into that house, she's not going to be there? Because that doesn't make sense. She's my Nana. And that's her house. That's where she lives.

That's where she lived. I don't know what to say. It doesn't feel real. I feel like I should be able to come up with this amazing tribute to her, brain just feels stuck.

I don't feel like reflecting on 2017 right now. But I will make resolutions. In 2018, I will make time for people. Because I don't. I work, and I study, and I train and I don't give myself time for people. I will love. I will live. I will give everything 100% but I will remember that there is more to life that numbers on papers. I will grieve. I will accept. And I will keep it all together, because I have to.

I keep thinking that I'm going to see her tomorrow. Stupid brain. Stupid world. Stupid life.

Wednesday, 8 November 2017

The One Where I Have a Test in 12 Hours (43 months + 28 days)

'Sup. It's been a while.

In case the title didn't give it away enough, I have an organic chemistry test in 12 hours. I should probably be revising. But I'm not right now because:

a) I am exhausted (see below)
b) I am freezing (see below)
c) I received some shocking news that I need to write about (see immediately below)

NNB and I (who are now living together officially fyi, although this is not going to be for very much longer- see below) had an appointment at (new) nursery this evening which we were told was related to her speech. It wasn't related to her speech- well, it was in part, but that wasn't the main issue. The main issue was her behaviour. Piglet has been pushing other children over. Piglet has been hitting other children. Unprovoked (although, would it really be better if it was provoked? Like, she shouldn't be hitting. Full stop. Can't really justify it).

I was shocked. And I was embarrassed. And I should be, because I had no idea. And this has never previously been an issue, so I didn't understand. Nursery said they were working on some behavioural techniques to quell the issue so that she didn't start school with a "bad reputation". This whole situation is just totally alien to me; I was a very well behaved child so I have no idea about this. I just don't (writing is rubbish because I haven't done it for so long and my brain is full lalalalalalalalalaaaaaaaaa).

They asked what we did at home when she misbehaved. And my response? I was honest- I don't see her anymore; NNB, you'll have to take this one.

Noticed the connection yet? I did. Straight away. They said it could potentially a cause but it was probably a mixture of many different factors and I shouldn't feel guilty about it. But, come on. Child not getting attention from parent; child misbehaves to get attention from other sources. Pretty basic psychology there, am I right?

Why do I no longer see my child? Well, because we've moved in with NNB, I am no longer entitled to anything. Which means I have to work more. I have to 25 hours a week to break even. I am not even working to give us a better life, or more paw patrols, I am literally working to stay afloat. I also have uni, obviously. I have 50 credits this semester; 50 credits equates to 500 hours of work (be that structured, assignments or additional reading). So. My average working week is 75 hours. I have had 3 days in the past 6 weeks where I haven't had work or uni. My next day off is in 3 weeks. I'm killing myself. I'm dying. It's shit.

But, all this might be worth it if everything is wonderful at home right? Are you excited to hear stories about this wonderful cosy semi-detached four bedroom house with it's huge back garden? Well, guess what, it's shit. It wouldn't be, if NNB was an ACTUAL ADULT WHO SORTED THINGS OUT LIKE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO but he's not. And this is why he should never ever ever have been allowed to buy a house. We do not have a boiler. There is no functioning boiler at this property right now. It is October. No, it isn't, it's November (I don't even know what bloody month it is jesus christ I am RUINED tomorrow). No boiler. We have an electric shower, so at least I don't smell, but we have no heating. I tried to fix the boiler but I am not a plumber and nobody will speak to me about the boiler because I am not a homeowner or a tenant I am a nothing. So. I gave NNB an ultimatum (there was a list. There was a list of things that he was supposed to do/sort before we moved in- the boiler was just one of them); I said he had three days to take action on these items or I was moving out because it was not fair on me and it was not fair on Piglet to be living in the arctic AND HOW DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS A PRIORITY? Have I mentioned that I've been permanently ill for the past 6 weeks? Literally one illness after another BECAUSE I AM EXHAUSTED AND FREEZING ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I'm so sick of being ill.

Anyway. He didn't do it. He didn't do anything. Actually, funny story, the day after his time limit was up and I told him I'd booked viewings he decided that he would make some enquiries to see if he could get someone to come and look at the boiler the next day... because that's how plumbers work... (it's still not sorted, there is nobody coming to look at the boiler, the boiler is dead). So, I had a look around a few flats today for Piglet and I (and Adelaide and Baby Cat). Two of them were viable; the third was far too nice- I would be absolutely terrified of touching anything for fear of it breaking. Of the two, the first is my preference because the initial costs are lower, and the second one was on a busy road and I don't really want that so...

Funny thing actually, before we went to nursery I still had this feeling that I wasn't doing the right thing; maybe I should stick it out a bit longer? Maybe I'm being unfair? I should give him a bit more time to sort the boiler out. But then Piglet is hitting. Because Piglet is feeling unloved. And now I have no doubts. I worry anyway about not being around enough. I worry that he just puts her in front of the TV and lets her watch Paw Patrol for hours. I worry that he's not making sure she brushes her teeth properly. I worry that she thinks I've abandoned her. I hate that I'm too tired to play with her. I hate that I only get to see her at 7:15am when she's screaming for me as he takes her to nursery.

This has all turned very negative and it wasn't supposed to be negative. I want to be able to be a mother to my child. I want to have the time to do that (fyi also, anybody in hospitality- never say you might be able to work both days at the weekend if you are needed; they take that to mean you will work both days every single weekend). So. New home. Again. Less work. More Piglet. Less hitting.

Ending on a positive note? I got 100% in my latest uni assignment. Aaaaaand (whilst Newcastle PhD offer is still on the table) I've seen a PhD in Cambridge that I might apply for if my self-esteem doesn't get the better of me. This is the other thing. NNB has flat out said he is not moving if I do my PhD elsewhere. And I don't want to be limited in my options. So...the new home thing is inevitable, really, isn't it? I'm just bringing everything forward a bit.

Hopefully next time I write, I'll be telling you all about life in Monkseaton and how everybody has a Rupert dog, and all the wonderful cardboard furniture I'm buying from Ikea with my new big fat credit card increase that's happening and will keep me alive until tax credits start up again.

BIG LOVE (and hot water bottles) TO EVERYONE

Les os de congelation


p.s. I'm also taking French this semester as extra credit because I'm an idiot. Mon francais est tres mauvais. Je ne suis pas tres bon. L'ordre des mots est ridicule et je ne sais jamais quand prononcer l'e a la fin d'un mot. Au reviour tout le monde!

Monday, 4 September 2017

The One With The Curious Case of Bridget Bones (41 months + 24 days)

Right. Write. Breathe.

Ok. So. Change. I am not necessarily the best person when it comes to dealing with change. And...that's probably an understatement.

No, wait. I'm ok with change. As long as I am in control of the change. When things are happening that are no longer in my control, I have a tendency to freak out somewhat (again- understatement).

So, Piglet and I are moving to North Tyneside. We are moving in to NNB's new house (although I've been told that it is not NNB's house, it is our house, although my name is not on the mortgage so if he dies I will be on the streets but whatever, fine it's "our house"). I mentioned school stress the last time that I posted 16 years ago... so maybe I should talk about the lovely things that we did before I go onto the mild (major) breakdown that I'm currently experiencing? (Spoiler alert: there are no pictures here because something very sad happened that I will talk about later on).

So, we went on holiday. To the lake district. And it was really lovely. We went to the World of Beatrix Potter. We had breakfast with Peter Rabbit. Piglet got to meet Peter Rabbit and was very excited about this. We went to Kendal. Didn't get to see Tim Farron but that's ok. We went to Grizedale and searched for Gruffalo's. Very, very lovely.

We have been to see Paw Patrol Live. Piglet had her mind blown. (Very impressed with Paw Patrol Live btw; not with price of tickets- that was not impressive, but actual show- v. v. v. good). They had an interval half way through; the first half of the show ended on them trying to find Everest so to convince Piglet to go to the toilet, I told her we needed to check if Everest was in there. Cue toddler running into every stall shouting "EVEREST, WHERE ARE YOU? EVEREST!". Excellent parenting. Top notch.

And then I started properly looking for a school for Piglet. Do you know what time breakfast club starts at the school Piglet would be going to if we lived here? 8am. Which would mean I could be at uni for- realistically- 9am. Which might be fine, if I was staying until 6/7pm each evening BUT at this school, after-school clubs finish at 4:20pm. So. Not fine. Not fine at all.

Hence, we're moving with NNB. Since he can always do pick up (#teachergoals). And half-terms. And holidays. And I can't. The plan was two and a half months long. We were supposed to give nursery two months notice, so I wanted to find a new nursery at the end of August, hand in notice at current nursery on the 1st September and Piglet would start new nursery from the 1st November. I would then give notice on my flat on the 18th October and officially hand keys in on 18th November- but aim to have moved everything out prior to the 1st (last two weeks for deep-clean and de-weeding yard). That way, we would be moving in time to apply for schools for next September, not moving too close to Christmas, and not trying to rush it all.

First part of the plan went well. We found a nursery. We looked round three, but I knew which one I wanted before we even went. Piglet goes to a Busy Bees right now. There is a Busy Bees near the new house; it's on NNB's route to work, and is walk-able for when I am doing pick-up. This is going to be a big change for Piglet and I felt- feel- that at least if she is in the same sort of environment (i.e. same routine, same poilicies, same learning scheme), it will be easier for her. And it's lovely. They vote for stuff! I was so excited about this; they get to vote for the "room theme of the week" and there's big posters saying "your vote counts!" and I am ALL OVER THAT YES! So, loved it.

The other two we looked around? The first Just no. Right next to a busy road, not enough space in the room, all about "preparing them for school" but...she's not at school, she's at NURSERY. There wasn't a proper garden, it was just a playground and...I just didn't like it. Also, the fees were (excuse my language Nana) fucking ridiculous! Over £1000 per month. Nope. Can't afford that. The second was, honestly, beautiful. It was a really beautiful nursery and had it been in a different location, and had they offered the 30 funded hours (they were only offering the 15 when we looked) I could very easily have been swayed by that one. I would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a nursery, because it was gorgeous. And the owner who showed us around was very good. Obviously cared a lot about early years education and she was very impressive. Everything she said really hit home with me.

Oh, another point to make. I lose all my tax credits when I move in with NNB. So, we looked at the finances and worked out that, if we put Piglet in nursery term-time only for the 30 free hours (3 full days) and then I paid for an extra half day, that should be enough to cover my lectures, And then I would just work closes and one day at the weekend at work. Work are fine with this (work are so good actually- if you ever hear me moan about work, just slap me).

So. Back to Busy Bees (I'm so sorry, this is all over the place, but this is my life right now). We said we wanted her to start on the 1st November; they said that's great. We asked about 30 free hours and...hit a wall. For Piglet to receive 30 free hours, she needs to be at the nursery on head count day which is October 9th. Otherwise we are not eligible for them until the following term. So, here was stress numero uno-

1) This meant I could only give nursery one months notice
2) Because they are in different local authorities, I could only have funding for one of them; it wasn't transferable. Which basically meant that either I have to cancel the funding for September at current nursery, which almost doubles my bill for that month or find a way to pay for two months of new nursery without funding or tax credits.

Do you know why our nursery is so great? I spoke to them and, not only did they say they were fine for us to give one month's notice, she also said that she would just charge me the funded rate for this month but not access the funding so that I get it at the new nursery. So basically nursery just gave me a 50 % discount for this month.

Which is wonderful, but here's where I started to unravel slightly because now everything has been shifted forward a month. Piglet starts new nursery on 2nd October. I am handing notice in on flat 18th September, with a view to being out by 30th September (officially 18th October- but as previously mentioned, the yard really needs de-weeding). And now my control on the situation is starting to dissipate and I am getting anxious.

So, what do you when you get anxious? BIG NIGHT OUT! OF COURSE! EXCELLENT IDEA! Uhm, I can't tell you what happened on my big night out because I have no memory of it. I can tell you I ended up with the police. Who think my drink was spiked. I have a vague memory of them asking me what I'd taken because my pupils were the size of plates, to which I responded "I would NEVER do DRUGS, I have a baby and my boyfriend is a MATHS TEACHER, and I do CHEMISTRY!" Hence, spiking. And my phone was stolen. And my student ID. And my pink leather jacket. And it's all very sad. And now I have a shit pay as you go phone that cost £20 and takes pictures that look like...crap. And I can't even cope.

Next stress on the list; remember that three and a half days at nursery I was talking about? I got my timetable last night. I can't cover uni with three and a half days of nursery. Semester one I will have to have her in for three days and two mornings; from March she'll probably have to be back in full time until NNB finishes school for the Summer. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I AM GOING TO BE SO POOR HAHAHAHAHAHA LOVE MY LIFE.

Here's the biggest concern though. Bigger than picking a school; bigger than being spiked and having all your things stolen; bigger than living in poverty for the next year. Piglet. I love Piglet's nursery. Piglet loves her nursery. I love my flat. Piglet loves my flat. We were driving home from the new house last night, and she was sat next to the cat in the back saying "Don't worry Adelaide, we're going to mummy's house now, not NNB's house. It's going to be fine, we're going to mummy's house". NNB said he picked her up one day before he'd got the new house and she was shouting in the car, "NO, ME GO MUMMY'S HOUSE, NOT NNB'S HOUSE NO!" and he had to reassure her that they were coming here. She woke up next to me this morning and said, "Yay! We're in our house!"

She loves the new house. She loves her room- she chose it herself; she's picked out her bedding and helped unpack all her toys and clothes; she loves the garden and the cat that lives next door (every morning when we go downstairs she asks to look out the window to see if she can see him). But clearly this is her home. And I'm taking it away from her and that makes me so sad. And it's happening far faster than I thought it would, or even wanted it to.

And whilst it's all exciting, and will probably work out for the best in the end, I just feel constantly sick right now at the thought that I'm about to do something that could seriously upset her.

So, Piglet. In 15 years, when your therapist works out that all the issues you have stem from this move, I'm sorry. I really am. But, hey, I'll probably be sat there alongside you because I AM NOT COPING VERY WELL RIGHT NOW. I promise we'll still see your best friend. I promise you can always sleep with mummy if you're sad. I promise that I'll try and do everything I can to make this as easy as possible for you.

But also, remember that it was not mummy's fault, it was NNB's fault because he applied for the stupid job at the good school in North Tyneside, so he is the source of all our woes ok?

Wednesday, 9 August 2017

The One With The Worst Bit Of Prose You Will Ever Encounter (40 months + 29 days)

Guys, I'm so so so sorry but I'm having a minor breakdown right now so... here I am. Do you know I'm a problem solver? Can you believe that? Given how much I whine about things on here? Seriously. In "the real world", if you came to me with an issue, I could give you a solution to it. My own problems? Hmm.... maybe this is why I write about them. Then I can work through them on "paper", and they seem less massive.

Let's play a game. Let's play a game in which you have 0 foresight. Maybe I shouldn't phrase it like that.... Let's play a game in which you are incredibly optimistic and naive. Got it? In the right frame of mind? World is a lovely place and everything is always going to end up fine. This. Is. Your. Brain.

Now you're pregnant. And you believed it would all be fine and everything would be ok, but it wasn't, and we've lived this, and you dealt with it, and you planned, and it was sorted (kind of...ish).

I'm going to tell you a secret now, that nobody ever says. Or maybe they do say it and you just don't believe it. BABIES DO NOT GET EASIER. BABIES ONLY EVER GET HARDER.

Actually that's not fair. The babies don't get harder, but all the stupid rubbish that goes alongside the babies gets harder.

Piglet is three. Three years old. I have to start applying for schools for Piglet. I (currently) have no idea where I am going to be when Piglet starts school because I don't know where I'm going to be doing my PhD. So currently, I have several options:

1) I apply for schools in Sunderland.

2) I apply for schools in North Tyneside where NNB's new house that he is buying is (more on this later)

3) I wait until I know for sure where I am doing my PhD and then start applying for schools.

There are issues with each and every one of these options. Yes, I have been offered a PhD at Newcastle, but currently I still want to apply for others, just to have options. If I am to do the PhD at Newcastle, I will be living with NNB in his house. So therefore, it makes sense to apply for those schools, right? BUT I can't apply for those schools because I won't be living in the catchment area at the time of application. I won't be living with NNB prior to doing my PhD because financially, it makes no sense and all the tax credits for nursery disappear. Therefore option number two isn't really an option.

How about applying for schools in Sunderland then? Well, that is equally stupid. Because as I've just said, if I stay in Newcastle, I won't be living in Sunderland.

Which leaves option three. Which is equally as rubbish because school applications have to be in by January which is pretty much the same time PhD applications have to be in for so....

I'll complicate this issue further. I need a school that offers breakfast club and after school clubs. And that is shit. Never have I had so much guilt as the knowledge that Piglet is going to be at school earlier than everyone else, and leaving school later than everyone else. That makes me really, really sad. And very shit. And selfish.

So basically I hate schools. I hate myself. I hate the system. I hate it all. I hate it. And right now, I can't really do anything proactive about it? Which is really frustrating.

I'm stressing about applying for PhD's aswell. Because y'know. Imperial. Sad times. Does a 94% average really outweigh a Desmond? But can't apply for any yet, because they're not advertising for next September yet, so again... stress with no productive outlet.

NNB is moving house. NNB is buying a house because he is a grown-up whilst I am forever 21. NNB has lots of stress about house. He was promised it would be completed before the 14th, because that is when his tenancy ends. It is not being completed by the 14th. They are currently saying the 23rd. So, because I am a problem solver, I suggested NNB miraculously all on his own came up with the idea of staying at mine for a couple of weeks and putting his stuff in storage, which is now the plan.

I'm stressed about NNB moving.

I'm scared about NNB moving.

I think I'm having a little bit of a breakdown at the moment. I suggested yesterday that maybe he shouldn't buy a house and instead we should just take all the money and go travelling round Europe for six months and run away and it would be so lovely and he shot that idea down quite quickly.

OH, funny story aswell. You know how your medical records are confidential right? And like, the fact that you used to have eating disorders is between you and your doctor yeah? Imagine if for some unknown reason the doctor decided to share this information with nursery. Wouldn't that just be a barrel of laughs? Can you imagine how totally inappropriate that would be? Good job that NEVER happens, yeah?

Apart from it did. Piglet's pediatrician included that information on a letter sent to nursery. She also spelled Piglet's name incorrectly all the way through. Aswell as my name. I was outraged at that letter. Outraged.

Yesterday I got an email from uni saying that my tuition fees were up this year from £3095 to £3370.

Nice one.


NNB, Piglet and I have just booked a couple of days away in Penrith in the Lake District next week. We've actually managed to get a stupidly cheap deal on one of these holiday apartments in this crazy old Hall (seriously it looks amazing I'm so excited right now).

God this is so disjointed. I'm so so sorry. This is my brain right now. There is no connections, just random things all over the place that all cause stress and chaos.


Wednesday, 26 July 2017

The One With Potties and Pleurisy (40 months + 15 days)

So, on Sunday I started writing a really long whiny, bitchy, moany, "shut up Bones, you're so #firstworldproblems" post but luckily for me (and all of you) it didn't save it. Why was I writing such a moody post? Three reasons:

1) I had been diagnosed with pleurisy, and thus was unable to run.

2) I'd started a vegan diet (don't ask) and felt like an absolute starving whale. 

3) I felt fat due to a combination of the above.

BUT I'm over it, so here I am with lots of lovely lovely updates (and minimal hating on my body- apart from the fact that it seems to die on me all the time, and I am sick of it).

Before we tackle any of the above though, let's run through v. v. v. exciting updates in the life of Bones and Piglet:

1) Piglet Runs
We did the Great North 10k at the beginning of July. By we, I mean, I did the Great North 10k. BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY- Piglet partook in the Toddler Dash. Piglet did her own race. And SHE WAS AMAZING!!! Honestly, I was so proud. So, so, proud. And so well-behaved- I didn't even try to pull her to the front or knock anyone in front of us over (well done Bones for being a normal human being and not a competitive psychopath; big big points you crazy crazy woman). 

2) If Piglet is Autistic, I am a Banana
This realisation dawned on me when we went to Party no. 632 (How are there so many children at nursery? Surely it isn't possible to be invited to this many parties?); Piglet's best friend at nursery is called....let's call her... (so much pressure here- please do not infer anything about this child from what I decide to christen her)...right, got it- PBF (Piglet's Best Friend. Nice one Bones- really original). 

So anyway- getting back to the point- we got to this party and Piglet and PBF spotted each other, and I swear to God, it was the most adorable thing in the world. Like they behaved as though they hadn't seen each other for 60 years, in spite of it being Saturday, and they were at nursery together on Friday... So cute. And then they were trying to work out how to reach each other in the maze that is soft play. Not autistic. Beautiful.

Her speech is coming along in leaps and bounds aswell (she found the emergency pregnancy test a few weeks ago- "Mummy, what's this?"; "That's a special test that tells you if there's a baby in your tummy"; "Yay! A baby! Do it Mummy, you do it!"; "Oh no darling, it's just if you think there's a baby and you have to check if  you're right or if your body just hates you"; "Oooooh I see"). So, I have little worries in this regard (more worried about finding her sat on the potty with a pregnancy test). And speaking of potties...

3) Piglet does Potty Training. Successfully. In 48 hours
We had been potty training. We bought a bike. Piglet got sick of potty training and refused to do it anymore. And then on Saturday, I said to NNB that we need to stop messing around and be focused parents and get our shit together. So, we put pants on Piglet. And since then....she's used the potty (honestly, I think part of this is because she really likes yellow, and I told her that wee wees is yellow and she can see that I'm telling the truth by looking in the potty). She had one accident at nursery yesterday, and was apparently inconsolable. Which is really sad. Because she's done so well, and it was only one accident (clearly she is a crazy perfectionist also- don't do it Piglet, just don't do it. Aim for mediocrity!). Other than that though- perfect. Woke up this morning (granted it was at 3:30am) with a dry nappy and went straight on the potty too.

I mean, I did have a bit of a cry about this, because she's not a baby anymore and is officially a Big Girl, but whatever, like, my emotional stability is not the subject of this section. We'll discuss this later. But first...

4) Bones Maintains A 94% Average
YEAH I DO. Got results for first year a few weeks ago. 87% in Organic (but I only needed like 2% in this exam to get a distinction overall so I don't even care about this mark it definitely does not bother me, I'm not going to be that guy that moans because it's not a 90 but yeah you're right I'm really pissed off by stupid organic chemistry). 98% in Bioactive Natural Products. Pretty solid. Pretty solid mark. Not bad. OH WAIT. STOP EVERYTHING. WHO GOT 100% IN CHEMOTHERAPY? OH YEAH, THAT'S ME. ME HERE. 100%. A. PERFECT. SCORE. 

Pretty happy. Except for Organic. But average is still 94% so it's all gravy. All gravy gravy gravy. 

5) Bones Gets Pleurisy (because her body is utterly shite)
This is a story about how you can have a chest infection and think you're fine and all better, until you have horrendous chest pains for two weeks and go to your doctor and he sends you to hospital where they do 700000000 tests on you . And then say you can't run and your life is ruined.

I had a chest infection about a month ago and didn't get it looked at, because...well, I figured it was probably viral and they wouldn't be able to do anything? And then the day before the 10k I started having chest pains... and ran it anyway because... I like medals? I was supposed to be doing another 10k in Durham on the 19th and I went to the doctor that morning because chest pains had lasted almost two weeks. Not intermittent chest pains. Constant chest pain. Anyway, he sent me to hospital (NNB had a small heart attack when I sent him a message about this whilst he was at work) and after 6789 different tests they said it was pleurisy. 

Pleurisy is an inflammation of the lining of your lungs and can be caused by chest infections. Do you know what the remedy for pleurisy is? Rest. And painkillers (have had a lot of codeine recently). But mainly rest.

I really don't like rest.

So, I couldn't do my run. I had two days off work. I lay in bed convinced that my waist was expanding by the second due to this new sedentary lifestyle I was having to lead, and I watched 700000 documentaries on Netflix- one of which was What the Health? Which led to....

6) Bones goes Vegan
I am not convinced about the health benefits of veganism. It is very easy to cherry pick studies to support any claim you want to make, and- let's face it- a lot of studies have been done which have yielded results which cannot be reproduced and are therefore bullshit (*cough* looking at you Andrew Wakefield *cough*)  I am not going to preach about why we should only eat a plant-based diet because I don't necessarily believe that is true. What IS true is that I am very easily grossed out by food. And what's actually in food. I'm not going to tell you the specific part that made me cut out the best 70% of my diet because that's not fair. But if you watch it, you'll know the bit that I'm talking about. 

I'm kind of hoping I get over this quite rapidly? Because I really miss eggs. So maybe I can be vegan, but still eat eggs. I really miss turkey bacon too. That being said, one of the girls at work made some vegan chilli for me and it was literally the best thing I have ever eaten. So maybe I'll start posting loads of vegan recipe ideas on here instead! (I will never do this- I promise, promise, promise you, I will not do this). 

God I'm such a mess.

Big love to everyone! Remember: always get your chest infections checked out and definitely don't watch What the Health, because it WILL ruin your life! (Oh my God I just remembered pizza, like what is life without PIZZA?!)


Thursday, 22 June 2017

The One With The Nuclear Fallout (39 months + 11 days)

It is Thursday.

Yesterday, I sobbed, I screamed, I spent £60 on a yellow jacket that I have coveted for several weeks, booked a 10k in Durham for next month, Piglet got a new Paw Patrol toy, bag and hat (this is what happens when I get a credit card increase and "bad" news on the same day), and we went to bed at 7pm. 

And when I woke up, it was 1:30am. And it was Thursday. 

We're giving potty training another whirl at the moment. On Tuesday, I promised Piglet that she could have anything she wanted if she did all her wee wees on the toilet and she asked for a pink bike. Since then, she has only had two accidents at nursery, so it seems to be working. Because she is fine. 

She saw me crying after the hospital yesterday, wiped away my tears, gave me a cuddle and asked if I was OK. Because she is fine.

She gave me a big kiss and a hug when I picked her up last night and told me she loved me. Because she is fine. 

She jumped in bed next to me and insisted that she was squeezed as tight as possible (this is the only way she will fall asleep) and....that can be autistic. But you know what? That's fine. 

Piglet isn't autistic. Piglet is Piglet. Piglet may end up being on the autistic spectrum but it will just be part of who she is. And after the stories I have read this morning, that's fine. It is fine. Autism isn't understood by society. I don't fully understand autism. But you know what? I'm probably on the spectrum. You're probably on the spectrum. We're all on the bloody spectrum.'s not Piglet's problem. Nothing has changed, or will change for her. It is just being made apparent to me. So I need to get over myself. 

Nursery said Piglet was off yesterday afternoon; that she was in a really odd mood. And honestly? I'm not surprised. Imagine sitting in a room for an hour with two people talking about you in front of your face- how would you feel? She's sharp as a whistle when it comes to understanding what you're saying, and that can be easy to forget. 

The health visitor isn't trying to set me up, She's trying to help. The pediatrician isn't telling me there's something wrong, she's telling me that there's something different. 

For anyone else in this situation- don't just read literature. Because it uses language like "disorder" and "delay" and other negative words that... aren't necessarily true. Read people's stories. Read their experiences. And you'll have a totally different perspective on the situation. 

I've been fighting any and all medical diagnoses around Piglet. I'm silly, really. I think in my mind, by resisting everything, I was fighting for her; I was defending her corner. And I thought that by going down this path, it would mean her life would be more difficult. doesn't change anything. It's just a word.

The real fight is against what most people believe autism is. Myself included.

So. It's Thursday. What should we all do today? We should buy beautiful yellow jackets. Because life is short. We should educate ourselves. Because ignorance is dangerous. I myself am going to start looking at the best methods for teaching children on the autistic spectrum. I'm also going to be serving pints with a smile to alcoholics at 11am. The most important thing we should do today though? We should hug our babies as tight as we can. Our happy, funny, loving, unique babies. Mine's perfect, and I'm sure yours is too.

p.s. Baby cat fell out of the bathroom window whilst we were at hospital yesterday so I returned home to a very soggy wet cat stood by the back door feeling sorry for himself. This was the highlight of Woeful Wednesday, and has more than made up for the fact that he continually poos on the floor and gave Adelaide a hysterical pregnancy.