Compassion, realism and getting stuck in a jungle……

Hey all, I’m sorry I’ve been relatively quiet lately, being honest I’ve been suffering a bit of a writers block because I usually write about how I’m feeling and this being a massive transitional phase I’m finding it all a bit overwhelming.

CBT and hypnotherapy are going well and I’m working each day to be a more compassionate, confident and less self loathing me. This is of course very hard work but I honestly believe that anything worth having is worth working hard for.

Compassion is an interesting thing for me to be thinking about as it’s something I’ve always felt I understood and can give to others freely. Turns out I’m awful at being compassionate towards myself and this is an area that needs significant improvement. I’ve started by not expecting so much from myself. I don’t mean not setting goals or looking to achieve things as I’m still a driven person but I’m much more realistic in my ideas about things and that gives me the luxury that if things don’t go quite according to plan I don’t end up in an anxious state and telling myself it’s all my fault. 

I realise that I am happiest when life is simple, when I have the people I love around me and when I am laughing. You don’t need to be in a nightclub to have a nice evening and you certainly don’t need to be in six inch heels (I love them and they make my legs look so much nicer but my poor feet!)

Just last night we went after work to meet some friends on their camp site where they are staying for the weekend. The plan was a BBQ and some drinks. The boys were excited to play with their children and we were excited to have a relax with good conversation and some prosecco (well perhaps that was just me!) 

I wore a maxi dress, flip flops and a little kimono which was perfectly acceptable for the balmy Whitstable evening we left home to. However it was much more windy in Folkestone and it became clear quite soon that I was a cardigan down! 

We decided to walk from the top of the cliff which is where the campsite is to the bottom and the beach. Sounds so easy doesn’t it however eighty five active minutes on my Fitbit later, some nasty scratches from brambles, some stinging nettle stings and my hair looking like Monica in that episode of Friends where the humidity got to her we still hadn’t found a beach and gave up. But do you know what, it didn’t matter at all. We laughed, drank more prosecco, chatted and mocked ourselves for our appalling orienteering. The children played and we didn’t end up home until gone eleven pm. 

This morning I had the grand idea of a chilled out Saturday where we would mooch around the Farmers Market in town and have a light lunch before the boys had a friend’s birthday party to go to. We did indeed go to the Farmers Market and I bought a beautiful bunch of flowers and the boys each had a fresh pretzel. The boys after about four minutes decided that they had got bored and kept in very loud voices saying helpful things such as, ‘this is rubbish’, ‘why isn’t the food free’ and ‘why do you want more flowers’. 

We then went to the lovely Whitstable Museum which is run by some fantastic and knowledgable volunteers who very kindly let the boys handle a giant gun/musket that had just been donated and showed them various bits and pieces that we have seen many times before but they love each time. Their particular favourite is digging for sharks teeth and various Whitstable artefacts in the kids area. 

Then it was off to Champs, one of our fab bakeries/cafes. We stop here many times in the week for cakes after school but today was all about the bacon and egg rolls. I was excited to sit with a cuppa and all my boys and just enjoy some time. Leo however had other ideas and squirted Ribena everywhere, kept knocking my arm every time I tried to take a sip of tea, kept kicking Karl under the table and then wiped a bogie on my arm. Nate was much better behaved and was looking through the local paper which happened to have my column in with a picture of the boys. How one seven year old child can turn a small newspaper into a million pieces of paper in a numerical order unknown to man is beyond me but he managed it. 

Karl and I managed to eat our rolls and the boys munched on theirs which gave us about four minutes peace before Karl (bruises forming on his legs) said, ‘Luce, I can’t sit here anymore’. So off we went, the picture of family life, the children sporting Whitstable Mueseum badges, me carrying a beautiful bunch of flowers no one any the wiser to the fact that one of us was covered in Ribena, one in newsprint, one in spilled tea and the other unscathed but with slightly injured legs from his five year olds restless leg syndrome. 

The birthday party was fab and I like a normal mother treated myself to a strawberry slush puppy and made jokes about the lack of vodka in it before wondering what people would think about a boozing mother at a bowling party. It didn’t have vodka in don’t worry, though if I had enough change and hadn’t spent it all on the various gaming machines I may have been tempted! 

Have a fantastic rest of your weekend xx

Illness, bike riding and lost crocs…….

You know how sometimes you get to the end of a long day and just need a really good giggle? Read on lovely people……..

Today is one of those where I work the day and Karl works the afternoon and night so my parents pick the boys up from school. I go straight to their house and they usually feed both me and the boys before we go home about seven pm for bedtime.

Tonight I got back to find the boys doing clay modelling with Nana, she loves any kind of messy, knife wielding and potentially get paint everywhere crafts so I let her get on with it and watched with a nervousness that I can’t describe while Leo flung around the small knife chopping clay into various shapes. 

The boys ate tea and Nate not even half way through eating declared he felt terribly poorly and took himself off into the living room. Now my Nate is a big boy who loves all the boy things there are in this world. He is also one of the biggest drama queens I know and often goes to extremes when he feels poorly asking questions such as, ‘is it my heart?’, ‘do I need a blood transfusion?’ and ‘is it a deadly disease?’ 

Tonight was no different and within what seemed like minutes he had worked himself up into a huge tizzy and was very concerned he would be sick. He reminded me a bit of a woman in heavy labour, all heavy breathing and uncomfortable movements. It got to the point where not only did he feel sick but his neck was hurting, he couldn’t swallow properly and he was almost delirious. I then went into typical mum mode and thought just incase he had indeed developed some kind of tropical disease that I should get him checked out.

We drove to our Doctors which also has a minor injuries walk in centre attached. Usually they have nurses who can prescribe and often the doctors work late. We went to the lady at reception with Nate leaning on the desk with his heavy breathing and humpback whale type moans. She gave me a perplexed look when I answered the question of whether it was an injury or an illness with ‘I’m not really sure’ and ushered us through to the waiting area where Nate continued to whale loudly.

The kind lady doctor called us in and Nate who had tears steaming down his cheeks went into full flow about how his breathing was strange, he felt sick, his neck and throat hurt and that he blamed the ham from school. She also looked at me perplexed and asked if Nate often got this anxious. I explained that he hates being ill and even the thought of it makes him get into a real tizzy so she was extra patient with him. Turns out his glands were up in his neck so we were prescribed antibiotics and he was told to rest up.

My plan next was to drive to our local Tesco to get his medicine which would take around ten minutes. Nate was having none of this so I delivered him back to Nana’s (by this point it was pouring with rain) and shot to Tesco on my own. The lady at the chemist said I had a few minutes to wait so I found myself by the flowers and picked out some peonies for me and pink roses for my mum. 

I collected the medicine and left the store with handfuls of flowers and the little white bag the medicine comes in, my hair was everywhere and I was soaked. I must have looked very strange. By the time I got back to Nana’s and gave Nate his first dose of medicine I felt exhausted and that we should all be getting home. Nate happily came but Leo refused to put his shoes on and ran off out of the back door into the pouring rain.

I loaded the car with all the things that needed to go home, school bags, shoes, clay models, hats and Nate loaded himself in. Leo then appeared on his bike which he has only just learned to ride without stabilisers cycling round and round the house in the pouring rain. On his second trip round I realised he was wearing a giant pair of adult crocs, Grandads crocs. 

The next thing I knew Grandad himself was running after Leo shouting, ‘he’s got my crocs!’ While I sat in the car windscreen wipers on full pelt wondering if this kind of thing ever happens to anyone else. It took a reasonable amount of time for them both to return for a third loop this time Leo wearing nothing on his feet and Dad telling me as he went past that Leo had thrown the crocs on the lawn. 

On the next rotation Grandad appeared with Leo over his shoulder in a fireman style lift. Leo was placed into the car and as we drove off I looked in my mirror and saw him smiling to himself. He had been having a wonderful time.

We got home and I had to unload the car, I had flowers, two school bags, one handbag, one pair of shoes, half a shepherds pie (leftovers) clay models of Saturn and Neptune, my work bag, two drink bottles and two hats. Nate held his prescription and Leo unlocked the front door. We walked in and everything in my arms dropped to the floor, I managed to catch the Shepherds pie and promptly got the boys into bed. 

They are still awake and I’m eating the rest of the shepherds pie which I planned on having for lunch at work tomorrow. 

Oh well it’s not like it’s only Monday and we still have the rest of the week to go……. oh wait! 

The Great Pretender…..

Today I was reminded of Alice in Wonderland and the quote, ‘that’s just the trouble with me, I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it’. 

I had the long waited for first session of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy this morning. After my first hypnotherapy session there is no doubt whatsoever that I feel brighter and more positive. But talking therapies mean you have to bare your soul and there is something that makes you feel so very vulnerable about spilling your innermost thoughts to a total stranger.

I did just that, I went through everything that has bought me to where I am today, the journey I’ve travelled, the awful decisions I’ve made, the relationships and friendships I have lost and the feeling of not being sure exactly what I have to offer anymore. 

I worked out some months ago that it’s self esteem, I was asked today whether I hated myself and I answered yes. It’s not that there aren’t things about myself that I don’t like because there are (I make a mean cuppa for example!) but there is always this underlying negativity, a critical voice if you like that tells me I’m not good enough, can’t move on from past mistakes and that I will never be loved by anyone.

Just reading back that paragraph I realise how ridiculous it would sound to someone who doesn’t have the issues I do and actually I am loved. My family love me, my children love me unconditionally, Karl has stuck by me through thick and thin and if that’s not love I don’t know what is and I have friends in my life who I know must love me because if they didn’t they wouldn’t still be here (you know who you are!)

My therapist who is also called Karl which made for many awkward moments during the session asked me to come back next week with some goals. What do I want from therapy and what I want to achieve from my life. Big questions and something that I really need to think about (apparently the world’s biggest bar of chocolate isn’t an okay answer?!) As I walked out and got into the car I felt positive. The first goal came to me, to not need the validation of others. To be able to hold my head high and think I am who I am and if you don’t understand that then that’s your business. Sounds so easy doesn’t it!

So I’ve decided to start here…… I’m Lucy, I’ve messed up a lot but I’m working my arse off to be a better person, a better wife, mum, daughter, sister and friend. I like to take pictures of flowers and talk about my thoughts and feelings here. I am sure that many people won’t understand my journey, my life or why I do the things I do and that is okay.

Here is an example of some good advice that I have always found very easy to give to myself and to others and yet have never managed to actually do. Let’s keep everything crossed that I can actually pull it off! 

Thanks for reading you very lovely people xx