Wednesday, 4 November 2015

The One With Alice In Wonderland Bones In Sunderland (19 months + 24 days)

'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar. 
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I - I hardly know, sir, just at present - at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'

So, it's 150 years since Alice in Wonderland was first published. Which means that everywhere in the country is sticking their hands up in the air and shouting "Look! Look at us! We had something to do with the book! Quick! Over here!"

And in a wonderfully cliche type thingamabob ("look me so good at writing"), I am also doing an Alice-inspired entry. 

I last left with the promise of a second post 24 hours later. I didn't deliver. Why didn't I deliver? I've been busy. I'm always busy. But- spoiler alert- the general theme was going to be a mini-rant about work. I'm not going to bore you with that. Because.... well, I've forgotten my target audience, haven't I? Piglet, you are my target audience. You're who I'm writing for. And I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear about how work is massively taking the piss out of mummy do you? (initially had a minor moan about certain incidents that had occurred here, then edited them out *just* incase anyone stumbles across this)

The situation is slowly rectifying itself. It is still far from perfect. That is the understatement of the century. But whatever.

What has happened over the past 3 months, 6 months, maybe even as long as 9 months is that I have slowly been broken down, Piglet. I have gone from believing that anything was possible; that we could beat the odds; that we could have it all. I was not arrogant- I was confident. And I enjoyed being confident. Do you know why I was confident, Piglet? It was you. You gave me confidence. You were the reason I had to be assertive. You were what I was fighting for. 

And without realising it, I lost you. I had other commitments. Some seemed worthwhile at the time (hello shitty degree), whilst others are just hideous things I have to endure (bonjour wanker work). I knew who I was when I started these endeavors. I knew who you were when we started. And currently I feel like I don't know either of us anymore. I have become weak. And sad. So painfully sad. You are happy, when I get the chance to see you. And I am at least glad for that. Although incredibly jealous and bitter that it is not me that is making you happy. 

I'm not a mum right now. I'm not even me right now. I don't recognise myself. I guess you could argue that the fact that I've opened my eyes and realised this is a huge revelation in itself though? Which is a positive. I think. 

NNB is still around. You are a big big big fan of NNB, Piggly. Big fan. Which is wonderful for you. I am very grateful for this. NNB is wonderful. I feel dependent though. Which I don't like. Really don't like it. Struggling with it a lot. Struggling with feeling like a housewife mother who just works in a pub then goes to college and pretends to be 17 again. This really isn't where I expected to be right now.

We went and saw NNB's family over the weekend, which was lovely, as always, but also painful. It made me realise that I miss my family. Maybe we could go and see them? But then trying to work out days that we're free, and I'm not working, and he's not working and...nothing was rectified. Discussions about Christmas have been brought up. He wants Christmas with his parents. I may have to work on Christmas Day. And given the option, I would rather see my parents on Christmas day (it is my mothers birthday aswell, after all). 

If they make me work on Christmas day, I may spit in everyone's food. 

So, basically Piglet, Mummy feels a bit shit again right now. Mummy is a mess. Mummy's life looks wonderful on the outside, smiley smiley happy happy faces. And it is, I think. I'm just bored, Piglet. And I miss you. Mummy can feel her brain leaking out of her ears every time she says the phrase "chips or curly fries?"

Seriously, I hate my job so much. SO much. So so much. 

I suppose the problem is Piglet that I invested so much into our old plan and I haven't really had chance to think up a new one. No. That's probably not right. I hadn't expected to have to plan with someone else.

Today, Piglet said a new word. Ready for it? Piglet, you said: "Xbox".

I am not joking. You are spending far too much time with NNB.

I have an interview for a new job on the 24th November. It is menial brain-melting work again but it's two night shifts a week which means that I get more chance to see my Piggly. Also, at present I am borderline nocturnal so... can at least put that to good use.

Still doesn't solve the real problem though does it:

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to", said the Cat.
"I don't much care where I- ", said Alice.
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go", said the Cat. 

I don't have a bloody clue where I want to go.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

The One With The "New-Year-New-You" Syndrome [Part 1/2] (18 months + 25 days)

Today is the first day in the last month that I've actually had time to sit down and write. And initially, I actually found it really difficult, which I was quite surprised about. It wasn't as though I had nothing that I wanted to say- as always, much has been occurring- or as though there wasn't a general theme that I wanted to run with. It was just...severe writer's block.

So, I did what any sensible person does when their brain is failing to engage: I went to the gym (happy happy happy place). And whilst in the gym, I had the REVELATION that.....: I had too much that I wanted to say; too many themes that I wanted to go with. I needed to split things up.

And so, welcome to part 1/2 of this month's blog (why am I only writing once a month at the moment, seriously it PAINS me that I can't update this more). I am planning on writing more frequently again. This is the current plan of life. Whether or not I am able to...who knows (but I will discuss this later on).

ANYWAY. Now that I've finished that awfully rambling terrible intro (getting the writey-ness flowing and stuff), let's kick off with all the things that have been going on this month.

You know how in January, everyone makes resolutions, and pretends they're reborn, and life is going to be amazing and whatever, just because it's a new year? New Year for me is not January. New Year for me, is September. New academic year. Best time of the year. So, my theme for this New Year is....(drum roll please) getting out of my comfort zone. I'd lost direction. Totally. One hundred percent. Of course I'd lost direction- my end goal had been blown out of the water. But still, I'd said I was going to do all of these things, and...I wasn't. I was pretty much stuck in a rut. Which- when I saw my tutor over the Summer- was exactly what he said to avoid. So- no time like the present- here's what I did:

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 1: Return To Education- In A Totally Different Field

So, as I had mentioned, I have gone back to college. College life for me. And it's wonderful. It's really, really fun. I think I'm finding it so fun because I'm actually doing something that I enjoy; this sounds incredibly stupid and obvious but- for me- I don't think I've ever had that experience before. I've always enjoyed learning (if I'm going off point at all here it's because I've got an NNB in my ear- "I hope you're saying nice things about me"- and I am a notoriously bad bad bad multi-tasker), but I wouldn't say that I ever really actively chose anything I studied; it was a passive process. I was pushed.

Course is fitness instructing and personal training (have I mentioned this? Pretty sure I did. Just repeating myself now. Bloody boy, throwing me off track). And it's great. My time is spent in the gym. My lessons are gym. And lessons that aren't gym are anatomy and physiology (which is basically MEDICINE kind of sort of totally not really, but I can pretend), which I find really cool. I get to lift weights. Which is something I never thought I would do. And- even crazier- I'm actually alright at it, which- to look at me- you wouldn't believe. (Even better, 90% of the people on the course hate cardio, so I am Queen Top Cardio Running Goddess which is always my favourite role in life).

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 2: Take Away Your Safety Blanket (...Cigarette)

Something else happened in September. Something quite significant that I had been saying I was going to do for a while, but never really meant it until it actually happened. I stopped smoking.

I had wanted to stop. I knew I needed to stop. My occasional cheeky cigarette had climbed to the level of "you're a smoker now Bones, stop pretending" and- the big thing for me- I'd got a cough that I just couldn't quite shift. I knew that I needed to stop before next years marathon, but still none of that seemed to be quite enough motivation for me.

Until we had a thing at work where we all decided to quit smoking. Whoever caved in first had to pay the others £25 each and buy them a bottle of wine. Well, I do like a cheeky competition!

It was harder than I thought it was going to be, in all honesty. I do have a fake non-cigarette (which I need- God, I NEED my fake non-cigarette) so I technically still have nicotine. But I don't smoke. And I have no desire to smoke now. The thought makes me feel quite nauseous. Funnily enough, my cough has disappeared. I can run faster. I feel a lot better. And I have been cigarette-free for 23 days. So it's pretty shocking how quickly you can improve.

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 3: Be A Really Really Really Ill Mess In Front Of Your NNB funny thing. Either it was totally coincidental, or a consequence of quitting smoking is that you end up throwing up constantly for like 36 hours. It was really fun (Not fun. Not fun at all. Test of relationship- how do you deal when I am a vomiting mess?) Not the best look for me. NNB was very good Piglet sorter-outer though. Piglet found the whole thing very confusing. Don't really want to relive this one anymore. So moving swiftly on to:

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 4: Go Pole Dancing

Amazing. So much fun. Seriously, everyone go pole dancing. Unfortunately, I've literally only had time to go to one class so far (more on this in next post) but seriously, so so so good. Really enjoyed it.

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 5: Get Back On The Trains

Piglet and I went to a wedding at the end of the month, which involved us being solo (as team Mummy Piglet combo) on trains for quite a while.

Journey down was- as always- bearable. The start was actually really fun. I'd missed it, to be perfectly honest. I'd missed it being the two of us, going off on our own, on stupidly long journeys, and being able to be spontaneous... Return journey was- as always- awful.

Return journey, I was actually asked by a policeman if I had support at home. Please bear in mind, that I had been awake since 5am (after going to bed at 2am following work); had to travel halfway across the country with an 18 month old child, and he was entering a situation where she was crying because she did not want to be in the pushchair but was overtired and needed to sleep (this was at 10pm). Apparently, my lack of removing her from the pushchair and instead telling her she needed to sleep was not appropriate parenting in his book.

Policeman looked like he was about 12. Policeman was also a "he". Policeman got my back right up. Took much restraint to be polite to policeman. Much much much restraint.

Nice man at York station who gave me my coffee for free, however ("Seriously, you don't need to pay for the coffee- you look like you could do with it")- he was top top top man.

(Wedding was really beautiful btw. Never wanted to get married before in my life but now I'm basically a half-bridezilla without anyone to marry.)

Of course, normal wonderful perfect Piglet behaviour resumed once we were off trains and back home.

(Oh my god. Revelation. Had a couple of drinks at wedding- but was deffo not drunk. Maybe policeman and coffee man thought I was some kind of raging alcoholic? I wasn't behaving erratically though. Shit. V embarrassing. There you go, Piglet. That's one to laugh at when you're older. "The time Mummy was mistaken for an alcoholic". Bugger. Don't drink people- drinking is bad for you)

Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone Number 6: Stop Being A Fucking Doormat

This one... yeah, I think I'm going to save this one for the next post. I think this is probably a good point to stop. Because there's a lot that I want to say and I don't feel that I'm really going to be able to do it justice tonight.

To summarise:

New me = weight-lifting, fake-cigarette-ing, pole-dancing, vomiting, accidental alcoholic. 

...I'm not doing too good so far, am I? See you in 24 hours for part 2!

p.s. Just wanted to give a quick shout-out to KJ; only just seen your message (absolutely made my day!) but I've been a silly busy mess- will reply asap :)

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

The One With The Earl Grey Switch (17 months + 29 days)

Jesus Christ, I really need to start finding a balance between "doing things to write about" and "actually writing about things that I do". Currently former has massively been taking precedence over latter.

There are relatively few things that irk me about NNB. Which is pleasantly surprising to be completely honest, given the amount of time that I spend with him. However, (ahahaha "however"- here we go....) he has one quality that up until very recently has...really (is it a really? It is a really) irritated me. Really really really irritated me (Will he mind me saying this? I don't think so. He knows about blog- to be perfectly honest, I think he reads blog but pretends he doesn't- and I have told him that this aspect of his personality has a tendency to get under my skin. Also, I'm using it as a moral-type thing. So it's good in the end. You'll see.)

I am fast. I am speedy speedy speedy. I would say I am efficient. One of my biggest pet hates is people who dawdle (dawdle? Seriously, what kind of word is dawdle? This is shocking.) NNB would probably argue that he doesn't dawdle. He would probably say that when he takes 33 hours to collect Piglet from nursery because he's showing her the guinea pigs, and the sea, and the sky, and a passing cat that he's just spending time with her (which is lovely- very very very lovely- do not get me wrong). Or when he wants to take a different route into town because it's more scenic (note: LONGER why would you do this? Quickest most direct route please) he's just being lovely. He bloody dawdles though.

I have always believed that speedy and efficient is very beneficial. Good quality to have. And it is. In certain circumstances. For example, at work, if there's 5 tables that need clearing, another 4 with food that needs running and 3 people waiting at the bar, I can sort it all in 2 minutes. And I'm not exaggerating there (I am Goddess of waitresses). In terms of technicality (is there a technical side to bar work?), I am amazing. Customer service...? Probably not so much. Because people annoy me. And they take their time, and they go slowly, and they don't know what they want, and I've always got 15 other things that need doing, and I don't understand why you have come to the bar to order food if you don't know what you want...?

(Also, please please please everyone if you take your menu to the bar with you please please please take it back to your table because it makes me want to throw myself off a bridge when there's 25 menus all left at the bar thank you love you all xxxxxxx)

Sometimes though, speedy is not the best way to be. And I've only learnt this very recently. VERY recently. So, we've had quite a few mini-breaks in the past month. Piglet, NNB and I went up to Scotland for a couple of days to see my parents whilst they were on holiday there; Piglet and NNB then had a weekend in Yorkshire (accidentally put "Yorkshite" initially- definitely can't mention that one to NNB. That may be breaking point). with his parents (I had to work, naturally), and then the three of us went back down to Yorkshire for a few days slightly later in the month.

Now, as was probably quite evident in my previous post, I was feeling rubbish. Really shit. Have I been to the doctors about this? No, because I haven't had time. Equally it is probably quite clear from this that I'm not feeling like that anymore. So, where has the dark cloud of doom gone then?

I needed those breaks. I needed to not have to do a million and one things at once. I needed time to dawdle. And sometimes when you take a step back from everything, it's not that bad. It could be worse. It could be A LOT worse. As silly as it sounds, I'd taken a huge hit with my degree result. And I had been floating around saying I was fine, and it was fine, and I'm all fine with all of it and everything. I wasn't. I think I am now though. I think I'm reaching acceptance. In terms of finances, as is always the case with my life, I had no money and then all of a sudden all the money I had been waiting for came through in one big go so I was rich (for five minutes of course. Then the money had to go again). That's a huge relief though. That was a big big big stress. (Although I am still waiting for cheeky tax rebate and I have already spotted beautiful coat that is going to be mine mine mine mine mine when that comes through).

And thus- as always- I was wrong in my views on life (just going back to the coat- honestly, it is SO PRETTY IT IS BEAUTIFUL). Dawdling is necessary. Dawdling can help (let me see if I can get a link to the coat).

But now dawdling time is over (oh, here is the coat. Just LOOK at it. LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL IT IS). So, now that we have finished dawdling, what are we all doing? Well, Piglet is back at nursery full-time- I'd cut her down to two days a week over August to minimise expenditure whilst the money was at £0. She's also getting very very very close to properly talking. She said "nursery" the other morning. She says "car brum brum". And cat (in fact, every morning the first thing she does is try to click her fingers and say "psssspsssspssspsss" to get the cat to come over to her). She's so sweet. And everything gets kisses. So I get kisses. NNB gets kisses. Cat gets the most kisses of all of us (she did run off with NNB's shoes last night and I caught her kissing those....) NNB has started teacher training which is just past nursery so he is in charge of nursery runs in the morning and evening (Piglet actually waits for him to come and pick her up at the top of the stairs- she is very fond of NNB). And as for me, I have started a fitness instructing and personal trainer course at college (OOH but look at this coat. Oh that is pretty. Oh I like that coat. God this is hard. Cannot justify getting two coats). So I am eternally a student (praise the Lord!)

Anyway. Take home message:

- Dawdling is good for the soul. And I am currently very content with my life (also, customer service skills have improved 10-fold. Sometimes I actually SMILE).

- Coats are lovely and everyone definitely needs at least 12.

(This is all utterly hilarious because I'm talking about the benefits of taking time out and I went to bed at midnight, have been up since four, have college during the day, then gym, then work till 10pm, homework that I need to do and an ironing pile that is the same height is me.)

In case anyone is wondering about the title of this post, I have recently made the switch from drinking 334 coffees per day to consuming only 184 coffees and 150 cups of Earl Grey tea.... which is clearly a perfect metaphor for allowing yourself some dawdling time. Obviously. Gosh, keep up won't you?

Saturday, 8 August 2015

The One Where I Need Some Benzocaine For My Life (16 months + 28 days)

I'm currently living in topsy-turvy world. I've always been a "lucky" person. By that, I mean I would always count myself as "lucky". Some may disagree with this. In fact, the evidence would probably suggest that I am no luckier than anyone else. But that is the way I have viewed my life- I've always known that everything will be ok; it will all be fine in the end, no matter what current rubbish is occurring. I guess then, that what I actually mean to say, is that I've been an optimistic person (although my miserable moaning posts may suggest different). My glass has been half-full. Currently, my glass is...not so much half-empty as just...wrong.

This post is probably going to end up being quite...clinical, for want of a better word. It will probably seem devoid of emotion; a simple stating of facts and events that have occurred in the past month.

I'm aware that it's been a while, so let's go back to where I last ended: I had just received my results. Utterly devastated; total shock; death of future, blah, blah, blah. That was on a Monday.

The Thursday of that week my dad had an accident at work which involved him falling 48ft from scaffolding. He had to be airlifted to hospital. He was working away from home at the time, and my mother received a phone call from the police to inform her of the incident where all they stated was "he's breathing and conscious". Thankfully, I believe he is relatively fine, although still in a lot of pain. He fractured 5 ribs- which, in the grand scheme of things, I guess could be viewed as lucky? It could have been substantially worse. It could have been a LOT worse.

I am yet to see my dad following his accident. I have no money, and I have had no time off work. I am due to see him next week.

Piglet and I went to Center Parcs that weekend after to meet NNB's parents. It was lovely. They were lovely. Everything was lovely. Lovely. (Although Piglet brought a cold home from nursery: i.e. there were germs at nursery, and Piglet carried them home to infect me and only me, whilst being fine herself, and everyone else having a substantial enough immune system to fight them off). How can you afford to go to Center Parcs and yet you say you have no money, Bones? I did not pay for this trip away. NNB's parents were v. generous. Piglet received a lot of presents. Very grateful.

The week after, I had another filling fall out. And I cannot describe the agony I was in. I've always been quite skeptical re: toothache and such, but OH MY GOD. PAIN. I'd like to just point out that this happened just before we were about to have amazing Asda pizza so I was seriously gutted. Called NHS 111 blah blah blah "go away lady, wait till morning". Emergency 10pm trip to Asda (I'm just plugging Asda at every opportunity here because I love Asda) ensued to search for dental repair type kit thing- which they didn't have. What they did have, however, was: benzocaine.

Benzocaine is amazing. I can't describe to you how much my tooth hurt. I just can't. Benzocaine basically just numbed half my mouth. It was fine. It was wonderful. Seriously, recommend benzocaine. #Benzocaineliving

Anyway. Dentist ensued: said I could have root canal or extraction. Always a fine, fine, fine choice. Extraction will be quicker. Easy peasy. I'll have that one please. Keep your dirty dirty drill away from me. Extraction was not quick. Turns out, I have wonderfully hooked roots on my molars (just like daddy- thank you, genetics) so I had 40 minutes of hell. Really hate the dentist. Hate the dentist so much. Now have big hole in teeth. But it's at the back of my mouth, so you can't see it. It's fine, really. It's fine.

Uhm... oh yeah, no money. I have no money. Zero money. Why do I have no money? Why do I have no money, when my hours at work have currently been doubled, and I just worked nine days IN A ROW? Well, to start with, all these hours are on Augusts payslip (come on end on August, show me the moneys). Secondly, I'm on the wrong tax code, despite me telling them otherwise, so aaaaaaaaaaaaalllllll the money is being stolen by taxman. Applied for housing benefit 6 weeks ago. Have been told may take up to another 3 weeks to process claim. So will be owed 9 weeks housing benefit by the time that is paid. Tax credits have got wrong information so am waiting for them to sort that out. No money. Painful. Sad. Desperate. But nothing I can do. I just have to wait. Which is frustrating. And embarrassing. But not my fault. And I forget that. And I feel guilty, and worthless, and shit. But there is nothing I can do, but wait. NNB thought it would be helpful to do some "financial planning", but all this showed is that I have no issue with my spending- it is simply a cash flow problem.

Piglet is not sleeping. For the past fortnight, she has started waking up in the middle of the night and screaming for hours and hours and hours and hours and hours and hours and hours. I can't deal with this. I can't be up all night with a baby and at work all day. I can't.

There's other stuff's probably all insignificant anyway. Whatever. Point is: it was shit. So, I did what any sane person does when life is shit. I got this:

And after I got this, I spent several weeks carefully choosing a name for him. Currently, he is still being called Cat. Or Pig. I'm leaning towards Sigmund though (satisfies all criteria for cat name: 1) Ridiculous; 2) Can call him Freud; 3) But can also call him Ziggy so nursery/vets don't think I'm insane). He's absolutely mental, so he fits in quite well here.

I guess that takes us to this week then. This week began with a semi-serious discussion about futures and stuff. Now- as is well documented on here- I have no future. Oh, although I do have a mini-future. Am doing personal trainer course at college from September to April. So, that is one item ticked off my "let's be a knob for a year" list. But other than this, future is done and dead. NNB has been teaching in school (but as TA) and is starting proper teacher training this year. NNB has made no secret of the fact that once he's done this, he doesn't plan on sticking around in the UK. He wants to work abroad. So, the conversation that ensued was, am I willing to accompany him? I had nothing to stick around here for. I had no plans. It was an adventure. A clear yes. Current plan was that he starts applying for jobs in January; if he gets accepted then Piglet and I would move in with him for a couple of months before we start looking at places in whatever country he chooses. Little wary of moving into his (encroaching on other people's space, would feel like "guest", etc. etc.) but understand that would be short-term, and makes sense in grand scheme of things.

I saw my personal tutor from uni on Tuesday. He was in The North for a bit and asked if I wanted to meet up for a coffee and to discuss results. He strongly advised that I appeal what I have got. He said before I do that though, he wanted me to go to the doctors. He doesn't think I'm ok. In fact, his choice of phrase was that he was "seriously concerned" the last time he saw me (I guess this is what happens when you spend hours wailing "I'M SO STUPID" to a person). He said that they may choose not to put me up to a 2.1 but I've got nothing to lose by trying. He had mentioned that he was going to get in touch with some people about PhD's for me before results came through- and he said he was still happy to do that. More than happy to give me v good reference. Said to make sure I don't get stuck in a rut. Keep trying. Always a path to where you want to go, sometimes you might just have to take alternate route. Most interestingly of all- he got the same result that I currently have (he failed to mention this however until after I had spent an hour being like "It's not even really a degree, it's just shit. It's just a totally rubbish result, I can't even do anything with it").

And that meeting was like the faintest glimmer of hope in the month of doom. There was still a chance. There is still a chance. Because, at the moment, I've just felt...definitely emotionally disconnected from things.

Part of it is that I had sort of resigned myself to the fact that this was my life now, whether I liked it or not. There was nothing more. I just had to deal with that. I've been feeling very reliant on NNB. Which I don't like. I really don't like. He makes jokes that I need him, and...I don't like it. I don't like that he's basically asking me to put all my plans on hold for him. And I know that I'm being unfair. Because he is wonderful. He is a truly amazing person. I know that I'm a psychopath (but, I did inform him of this the first time we met, so...there was full disclosure there). I know I have serious issues regarding relying on other people (although I think they're probably justified). I just don't like feeling dependent. I used to feel like I could do anything. I could get wherever I wanted to be, I just needed a plan- even when the odds were against me, I would fight for it. And recently, I just haven't been feeling like that. I've been feeling defeated.

There is a reason that this post sounds clinical. Numb. Empty. Because I feel numb and empty. Maybe it is that life has thrown me a few too many curveballs recently in a very short space of time. Maybe it is simply exhaustion. Maybe it is not.

So. I'm going to the doctors this week. I'm going to make time for it. See if I can get a little life benzocaine (prozac). Or maybe some sedatives for Piglet so that she'll start sleeping again. Either would be good right now.

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

The One With All The Interviews (13 months + 4 days)

Who the hell are you?!

Well hi there! I see you've stumbled across our brand new super shiny blog! I am Bones (Bridget Bones, that is) and the adorable child you see posted all over the background of the page is Piglet. She's mine. My baby. All mine.

We live in The North, with the boys (Boris and Jeremy- our puss cats). Boris runs away a lot and hates the world. Jeremy is clingy and cries when things go wrong. They do say that pets take after their owners...

I am a chemistry student. I'm actually at uni in London but am distance learning for these final couple of months because...I'm not in London! Piglet is a professional non-sleeper. That is her occupation. Also professional cake eater. She's very good at that.

Right..ok, cool. So, what's this all about?

This is the story of our lives. I started writing a blog when I was pregnant with Piglet, but have decided to move it and start afresh (Yeah, that's right. I'm running away on the internet- Boris takes after me). It is for Piglet. When she is old. In some ways it's for me aswell. For when I am old., where have you come from then?

It's a secret :) (although I don't think it would take much effort to find out!)

So, what are you actually planning on doing with your life?

Gosh, that's a hard one! I'm hoping to one day go into medicine and become a surgeon. At the moment I'm looking at doing a second masters/PhD whilst Piglet is still small. I also work in a bar.... Which is fine. For now.

Wait, you have a one year old baby, you're doing a degree, AND you have a job? What? How do you cope?

...Did I say I was coping?!

Well, how do you survive then?

Nursery. Babysitters. A few naughty cigarettes. The occasional large glass of wine. And writing down all of my FEELINGS. Did I mention I'm a long distance runner and am currently in training for the London Marathon aswell?

Shut up.

Yeah, you're right, it's probably best if I do.

I'm quite sporadic in my blogging. Sometimes I'll post several times a week, sometimes you won't see anything for a month. Stick with us though- we're quite entertaining.