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Poorly Fisk’s and how to deal with them…

A couple of weeks ago the lovely people at Vicks sent me a parcel of bits that would come in handy when the boys or Karl and I got ill. The package included some gorgeous finger puppets to cheer the boys up, a bedtime book, some of the phenomenal Vicks First Defence nasal spray and some videos including magic tricks to make us smile when ill.

Then as if by magic we were struck down with the lurgy that has been going round the boys school. You know the kind, bunged up noses, sore throat, coughing high temperature and dizziness. The trouble was Karl and I were struck down and the children have so far had only a very minor version!

I didn’t think for one minute that the package of things would be used by the boys to cheer us up but that’s what happened! Nate and Leo have treated me to puppet shows, songs from their favourite films and little notes and pictures to cheer me up. To help with their sniffly red noses we have done the classic trick that I learned from my mother and every morning put Vicks Vapour Rub on their little feet and then lovingly tucked them into slipper socks.

We keep a family sized woolly blanket on the edge of our sofa and we have all been tucked underneath it watching movies from Trolls to Zootopia. Our hands wrapped around cups of hot tea and lemsip with hot water bottles for the boys and all wearing chunky, warm pyjamas.

I also swear by using lavender when you are poorly by popping a few drops of the essential oil onto a tissue and putting it inside your pillow case. Even though this week I’ve struggled to smell anything at all I’ve always ben comforted knowing it’s their and when I can smell the scent it really helps me to sleep. The boys love the smell too and always seem to relax when I use it.

I think my main tips are very simply, comfort and relaxation as best as you can when you or your little ones are poorly. Lots of love and TLC (oh and the occasional puppet show!)

This post is an entry for the #VicksTricks campaign. 

The fable of the woman who thought she could manage her children in Tesco….

So this afternoon I made the classic mistake of thinking that I could just ‘pop’ into Tesco with the boys in tow. All I needed was milk and honey, surely as a woman in her thirties who has a mortgage, car finance, a job and many other responsibilities I could manage this?

So I marched in like I had it in hand, Leo had the trolley, yes for only two items but it kept both his hands busy! Nate had the scan as you shop scanner and I bet I almost looked cocky. I even stopped to pick some tulips out for myself, the nerve of me! 

I should mention that Nate also had a large wooden stick, like an extra long chop stick that he had coloured in at school and insisted on bringing in with him. This will all become relevant later on in the tale! 

So we managed the honey and I misjudged and found myself too close to the toy aisle. Leo had a glowing report at the school door today so I didn’t mind a little treat and he and Nate both chose themselves a little something. It was then Leo declared he was so desperate for the toilet that he would wet himself. Cue sprint along the shop, trolley and all to get to the toilets, me having to leave the trolley outside with a staff member who obviously thought I was about to steal the honey and toys and then all three of us went to the ladies.

Leo spent ages and sang whilst in the cubicle and lots of old ladies looked at me like I had two heads as they couldn’t hear themselves talk over Leo’s rendition of ‘he’s got the whole world in his hands’.

So then it was back to the shopping, Nate decided he wished to change his toy so the boys both headed back for the toy aisle. They bent down to look at something on the bottom shelf while I glanced over at the pretty princess toys I never get chance to buy and then heard ‘MY EYE! HE’S POKED ME IN THE EYE’! Sure enough Nate had accidentally managed to poke Leo in the eye with the long, colourful wooden stick and Leo was holding his eye like it was about to fall off.

Clever mummy decided the best way to distract them was the ‘free fruit for children’ stand so we went and grabbed an apple when all we needed to do was grab milk and go. In what seemed like two seconds later both boys had finished and wanted me to hold the cores. The trouble was I was at that point pushing a trolley, holding a scanner, a hand bag and the long wooden stick. I decided there would be a bin by the checkouts so gestured to Nate in that general direction.

He of course went the opposite way and found himself by the self service tills where he did locate a small waste paper bin for his apple core. Leo then put his in a hole in the side of one of the counters which I then with much embarrassment realised was the place the staff put security tags in when they took them off items that had been sold.

We finally headed for the milk when Leo declared that he needed olives. Being a child who loves olives we have plenty at home and I really didn’t want to be queuing to buy the extra expensive ones from the deli like he wanted me to. A massive lay on the floor tantrum ensued just by the fish counter and the staff entrance to the back of the shop. Basically the M25 of the supermarket. He was screaming mostly in a way no one could make out other than the occasional ‘stuffed olives’! 

We finally got the milk and made for the till, I paid, I could feel myself hyperventilating and the eyes of the other people burning into the back of my head as the boys twirled the trolley round shouting ‘ye ha’!

In the car as I pulled out of Tesco Nate started to speak and said, ‘I love….’ I thought, bless him, he is an absolute monster but he does love me. He ended the sentence with ‘party rings’. 

The next time any of you may see me walking with my children towards any kind of business, eating place, in fact public place at all please push me in the other direction and remind me of today! 

Love is a wonderful thing

This is one of those posts that you will read and think, ‘ooh, someone’s tired’ and you would be right. I am exhausted, I am always exhausted and I’m getting tired of it.

This week has been pretty awful, probably one of the worst I have had in some time. Now I know that there are people in the world who don’t have food, shelter or people to look after them. There are people suffering from awful illnesses and those whose homes are being torn from them. There are those affected by some very questionable political decisions and others who are in debt or battling addictions. I’m not comparing myself to any of these people and I am grateful everyday for the wonderful blessings I have in my life.

This week we said goodbye to Polly, our beautiful British Blue cat, she was thirteen and she had been a part of our family since she was a kitten. She was around before children, before we were married and way before life became stressful! A couple of weeks ago she was struggling to move around and after a trip to the vet was diagnosed with severe arthritis. We decided to use medication as recommended by the vet to make her as pain free as possible and to see how we got on. 

Sadly her condition deteriorated rapidly over the last week and yesterday we took her to the vet. I think both Karl and I knew in our hearts that this was likely to be the end of her time with us but it didn’t seem real until the very kind vet from Animed in Whitstable went through our options with us. We could try a different pain killer which had to be administered differently and wouldn’t guarantee any better quality to Polly’s life or we could release her from her suffering. We chose the latter. 

It was so unbelievably sad, I sobbed into Karl’s chest like a small child when the vet took Polly to put the drip into her little leg. We were both with her at the end and took her home to bury her. Again I know what some of you will be thinking, it was a cat, a pet and yes you are right but she was our cat, our pet and the first of our pets we have ever had to make such a decision for. They take such a place in our hearts and hold it for so long. She really was a part of our family.

I’ve been signed off work for a bit longer so I can get over the extreme exhaustion. The consultant recommended trying to start lightly exercising and building up my stamina to combat the tiredness. I have to admit that my ever expanding stomach and bottom need this! A wise friend suggested that actually some of the tiredness could be down to being so low. It’s really hard when you are not living life like you usually do and aren’t really sure of what to do with yourself.

In no time I’m sure I will be moaning at being back at work and so busy I don’t know where to start but I’m not a stay at home mum, nor am I a good patient with any kind of patience so in general I’m currently a bloody nightmare. 

For any of you who have listened to my tales of woe this week either in person, over the phone, on social media or on any other way, I thank you. You have no idea how much you help. 

Next week will be a better one I have no doubt and I will be writing about daft things the boys have done, silly anecdotes about our week and how much karl is driving me mad with his new favourite place to leave his shoes.

We all have good days and bad days, we can’t all be happy and smiley all the time. We can however remember that in a world full of humans we are one of the many who might be feeling the same way we are right now and that must give some comfort and we know we can get through it. Especially with a little help from others.

‘Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today’

Night all xx

Catching up, news and parenting failures…..

Hi all, how are you?

Well we are now six weeks post hysterectomy and I am doing okay. I still get exhausted doing nothing at all and have some pain but so much better that I was. I am off to see the consultant tomorrow to plan my return to work and see how the healing has been going.

I am quite nervous about this because I feel like I have only been half of me in recent months and having lost so much confidence to go back to ‘normal’ will be hard, tiring and probably something that will take me a period of adjustment (can I wear pyjamas to work?!) I am also excited to be the old me again and to be more than a recluse who gets tired after an hour out of the house!

I have been able to use my recovery time to focus on some little things such as my Instagram account and how I take pictures. I took a free taster course run by Emily Quinton at Makelight and have enjoyed thinking more about the layout of the pictures I take and the lighting, composition and editing. This has definitely made my Instagram account a better space and I have been gaining some amazing new followers who have kept me from getting depressed in this period of recovery. I plan on writing a blog post soon about my photography (all done on my IPhone 7) and the bits I use to make my pictures that bit better.

As per normal in my home I have had the usual parenting failures that I encounter most days that this week do seem to have come more thick and fast than usual. Last weekend was a low point for me when while Karl was working and I was feeling crappy the boys were being particularly challenging. It started like any other morning in a family home. I was making breakfast, Nate was very specific that he wanted his toast buttered as soon as it came out of the toaster so the butter would melt appropriately so there I was knife in hand and butter open ready to spread when Leo poked his head into the kitchen and asked if I was still doing Nate’s toast to which I said I was. He disappeared off and I thought no more of it. Shortly afterwards (the bloody toast still hadn’t popped up) I heard him shout ‘FINISHED!!’ Realising he must have had a poo and need to be wiped I told him I would be in shortly after I had buttered the toast according to Lord Nate’s specifications.

I walked to the bathroom and Leo shouted not to worry and that he had done it. Being a Mum I didn’t trust this so opened the door and walked in only for my foot to land on something soft and warm. I was wearing new slipper socks (I get very cold) and said in a state of panic, ‘Leo, what have I just stood in?!’ His reply was ‘Eugh who’s pooed on the floor!’. Yes it was poo. I don’t know how he had managed it but he had got some on the floor. I felt like crying, I disinfected him, me, the floor, threw away my socks and we finally made it back to the breakfast table sometime later. When we eventually did sit down with me wishing I was drinking as opposed to eating cold toast Leo said, ‘When you die will I get this house?’ You can imagine what I wanted to say, I wanted to laugh, cry and scream but instead I managed, ‘no Leo everything will be halved equally between yu and your brother.’

We also had the issue of the new Lego Batman figures which the boys saved their pocket money for to purchase from Tesco at the weekend. My dad took them over as a treat and they returned eager to rip open the little yellow packages. Leo was nothing more than disgusted that one of his was a Batman pink fairy. He now refuses to acknowledge it’s existence and can’t quite get his head around why Lego would do this to him. I’m quite happy as I can display it on my vintage printers tray next to my Lego ballerina. What is they say, men are from Mars women are from Venus?

Have an amazing week and don’t forget spring is just around the corner. Come and find me on Instagram if you can (lucy_fisk) as I post daily updates on what has been going on throughout the week. I leave you with a quote from the amazing and sadly fictional Carrie Bradshaw, ‘When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep on walking.’

 

Shout Outs…..

I am often astounded at how some people manage to do the things they do, to be strong, soldier on, achieve in the face of adversity and to do all these things while inspiring others.

I am incredibly lucky to know many of these people and I am even luckier to call these people my friends. This post will focus on women, this is for a number of reasons, one being the women’s march in London yesterday which I didn’t participate in but would have liked to and the other because some of my closest friends are such an inspiration and all have at times in the last few days made me want to write about all that they do even if they don’t feel they are doing so well themselves.

As so many of you know I have recently had a hysterectomy. This is a huge thing for any woman and I have been so lucky to have had a best friend who went through the same thing not long before me. I watched her suffer for over a year, in pain, in confidence and generally having an awful time. She spent so much longer than I did getting her endometriosis diagnosed and we for months really didn’t know what was wrong.

She suffered illness after illness we now know was bought on by her immune system being so low and still managed to be an amazing mother and hold down a mentally and physically demanding job. My friend has been able to reassure me, to counsel me and to be a rock at times of real need even though she is still recovering herself.

I don’t for one second mean to sound preachy but you have no idea how something major like a hysterectomy will affect you until you have one and actually having someone close who has experienced it has I am quite sure helped me massively.

I saw my friend yesterday and spent some time with her and her beautiful daughter. We talked at length about how our lives have changed and how much our confidence was knocked as a result of our illness. She is now back at work and doing so well and yet still suffering with low immunity, tiredness and that general mum issue of feeling you need to juggle everything and simply not having enough hours in the day.

I have so much respect for her and all she does and I don’t think for one minute she realises just how amazing her journey and recovery has been. Her daughter is clever, kind and a credit to her and her fiancé. I want her to know how proud she makes those around her and how much I appreciate all that she does for me.

Another mention needs to go to another amazing lady who is one of the most understanding and easy going women I have ever met. She raises five children, all of whom are lovely and a credit to her as well as always being at the end of the phone and so often putting others ahead of herself. I often think about how awful I am at the whole grown up mother life and then think of her.

Yesterday was a prime example, she arrived at a soft play centre with three of the five children with her and managed to get everyone a drink, order them food and calmly sit down while I was still shouting at Nate to come and have is drink and him completely ignoring me. I have seen her in some situations that would be anxiety attack inducing and yet she calmly smiles and believes it will be okay.

I don’t think that I have ever spoken to her about anything without her given some wise words or great advice and I honestly don’t think that she realises that she is that person for so many others too.

Another great friend recently had her second baby. She is such an example to us mums because she works, mothers, exercises, has been project managing a house extension and cares for so many others that she often doesn’t have time to even sit down. She never says no and is always friendly and happy. I had the pleasure of her company last night along with both of her little ladies as her husband was working.

We were at another friends birthday dinner and my amazing friend singlehandedly managed to feed her baby, chop up her older daughters food, dance, laugh, engage in conversation and both of her girls are such a delight I am in awe. If I had taken my boys to the party they would have knocked over the DJ stand, blown balloons onto the other tables and stolen the microphone. In short I wouldn’t have attempted it on my own but she did so with finesse, class and patience.

Lastly to my beautiful mum who after a lifetime of looking after everyone else if off on her first painting holiday. It has been so lovely to watch her confidence grow since she retired and took up painting as a hobby. Her work is amazing and I am so proud to call her my mum. She is always there when I need her and although we do clash, sometimes a lot I know that no matter what she will be there and I hope she knows vice versa.

There are many others that I could write about in this point and at some point I probably will but for now I will leave you with this thought:

‘Here’s to strong women, may we know them, may we be them, may we raise them.’


 

 

 

Defining moments…..

Hey all, how are we?

So, today I had one of those moments, a defining moment if you will. It was not a defining moment of massive consequence, in fact it was as defining moments go pretty abysmal however I still believe it was one.

I will paint a picture for you, set the scene and start at the beginning like any good tale should. It was 1455 hours in the afternoon and I was standing outside the classroom of my youngest son talking to a friend whose daughter is in Leo’s class. It was freezing cold, I was aware my nose was running slightly and my hands had gone pink they were so cold.

Karl was with me but he was on the other side of the walk way talking to the school’s wellbeing mentor who was I later found on recalling to Karl an ‘incident’ that had occurred at lunch time where Leo has been told to put his jumper on and said no (more of that later!)

It is a typical town school, lots of parents around, lots of hustle and bustle and plenty of laughter. You can almost tell the day people have had by charting their face on the school run. There are those who have been crazy busy and look stressed, those who have had an amazing day so are cheerful and happy, those who are excited to hug their little people, those who are in a rush to the fourth after school club of the week, those who are organised and have remembered to pop to the bakery for their child’s chosen treat and those who are looking at the little white bags in the other parents hands and you can tell are thinking, ‘shit, I forgot the bakery!’

I watch the other parents each and every day and I always wonder how they do it, how do they remain so cool and composed in the midst of absolute chaos? I have two children with a school year separating them, the pick up points for each are not within sight of each other so you have to judge which will come out first or take a chance and run the gauntlet. I always lose one child whether it be to playing with a friend, off finding a football or just running off in general and I never ever get a child who has all the stuff they went in that morning with them so I spend a small portion of each and every pick up rifling through lost property for whatever it is they have lost that day.

I then spend a good ten minutes shouting at them to come with me as they want to play football and on days like today I did so while violently shivering even though I was wearing about six layers. So today when I eventually got both boys to follow me and we met up with Karl Leo asked if he could have a gingerbread man. Karl explained to him that because of his refusal and rudeness about wearing his jumper earlier in the day he would not be getting a ‘ginger’ as he calls them. An episode from yesterday also came up where Leo received ‘minutes’ off his playtime for stomping on an apple that had fallen to the floor in the lunch hall.

So cue giant, heated, angry tantrum from Leo which was typical of a day we had to park miles away because Karl and I had been running late in the first place! So we did the usual Fisk walk back to the car with one child screaming and wrestling and the other skipping along blissfully unaware.

when we finally got back to the car after disturbing every member of public in the High Street with Leo’s screaming and finally had got in I put the school bags and jumpers on my lap along with Leo’s coat which at one point he had thrown into the road  I took a deep breath. It was then it occurred to me that I am okay at a fair few things in this world, I am a little bit good at some others however (here comes the defining moment) I am absolutely crap at the poxy school run!

Questions about life….

Hey all, how are we?

I have been thinking an awful lot in the past couple of days about all the questions I ask myself on an almost daily basis. I often wonder whether I am the only one to ask these questions and whether other people ask themselves the same questions I do.

My top question of the moment is why is it always my children? This comes after a week full of ‘incidents’ and ‘moments’, these include Leo and his increased fascination with any kind of illness or injury which has resulted in a number of phone calls from the school about incidents of him bumping his head, falling over, licking his fingers before washing them and feeling sick and a bizarre injury to his private parts. I also spent a very embarrassing five minutes yesterday talking to a kite surfer on Whitstable beach after Nate had struck up a conversation with him and then got interested in an unusual looking stone and disappeared off. Now I’m all for exercise but I really don’t know a thing about kite surfing so I just smiled a lot and kept saying, ‘Isn’t it cold!’

This morning we have had the living room turned into a scalextric track (literally, see the picture below) Leo licking bicarbonate of Soda off of an Ercol chair that we have rescued to be upcycled but smells of smoke (hence the baking soda) and then Leo again deciding he needed the loo in the middle of church which would be fine other than he decided to take the route that involved walking up the aisle and around the vicar and people doing readings stamping his feet.

Another question is how does everyone else manage it? How do my peers managed to get to work, look after the kids, keep the house tidy, keep themselves sane and manage all the other things a modern woman has to. I honestly have no idea what the answer to that question is. My friends don’t know either, in fact I had a lengthy conversation with my best friend last night about how down she has been feeling as she literally doesn’t feel like there are enough hours in the day and yet still gets comments at work about her hardly ever being there because she is part time.

I wonder if we asked every woman in the world to write down a top tip to getting through life whether we would be able to piece them all together to be some kind of super woman? Or whether actually every woman feels exactly the same as my friends and I and actually there are no answers to some of these ever apparent questions and the perfect formulae is to do the best we can with the time we have.

I would also like to know why I can never find a matching pair of socks, why the boys can’t ever put their toothbrushes back into the tooth brush pot and why Karl leaves shoes in the most random places all over the house. Answers on a postcard please!

Lucy xxx

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Hey all, how are we?

Today has been one of those strange days that I occasionally have when I come to realise I am a grown up with considerable responsibility. One who is in charge of little lives and has to look after the environment immediately around them. Now I get that you might be thinking, ‘Is she only just getting this, aren’t her kids like six?!’ and yes you would be right but surely I am not the only one who every so often it occurs to that actually grown up life is pretty scary?

This morning I felt like I often do like a great pretender when at 0830 hours when the boys should be in the car ready to go to school Leo was totally naked and laying on the living room floor refusing to get ready. I am never quite sure exactly why he does this and it often varies between things such as wanting a biscuit, being offended by the pants I have put out for him, not wanting to brush his teeth or just wanting to be a shit. Sometimes all of them if I am honest. His chosen method of protest is to be naked and he never goes far from this seasoned behaviour, like he thinks the ultimate embarrassment would be for me or Karl to have to take him to school with no clothes on. It shows his age as he doesn’t consider for a moment how mortifying it would be for him. Perhaps that’s where we are going wrong.

So fast forward a few hours from naked, moaning child writhing around the living room floor to me opening the door to an architect. A real life professional person instructed by grown ups to draw plans and give ideas for building works. Here is where it sank in, we are grown ups considering building works. We then had to explain to the very professional man our visions for the extension to our house and ask about fees, planning permission, permitted developments and bi-fold doors. Yes that’s right, I actually had an adult discussion with someone about these very things.

In between this architect leaving and the next one arriving (like grown ups we have asked a few to come round so we can discuss and decide which ideas we like best) I received a phone call from the boys school. The very lovely Wellbeing Mentor called to tell me that there was a small scuffle in the queue to get back into the class room after Leo’s playtime and in the scuffle he had received a blow to his private parts. He was fine but they have a policy to let parents know. She also wanted to emphasise that he wasn’t fighting or involved in any kind of argument it was just pushing and shoving and he was fine. Se then mentioned that he had told her he had refused to read his school book with me again so I explained that this was the last of my worries when he had still been naked at the time we should have gone out of the door this morning.

After some discussion with her and then Karl once I had got off the phone we decided that to show Leo that there can be more extreme consequences to his behaviour than a time out that he would not be allowed to go to ten pin bowling club this evening and that Nate who had behaved would go on his own. We both knew of course that this would be a bloody nightmare in itself. While I was having a very grown up conversation with the second architect about positioning of internal doors I was mentally preparing myself for World War 3 Leo style.

Of course it went exactly like I imagined it would, tears, screams, stamping, removal of clothes, pants thrown at me, the cat called an idiot, wails of ‘your so mean’ and ‘I don’t want to live here’ and then small sobs. He refused to do a time out for throwing everything all over the place so he went and moaned quietly to himself in his bedroom while I sat on the sofa waiting. Eventually about half an hour after Karl had left with Nate he came into the living room and declared that he would be going for his time out, took himself into the kitchen and sat on the stall for five minutes before apologising, clearing up all the mess e had made and asking if he behaved could he go to bowling next week.

So yes today was one of those days when I realise how grown up I am and we started the first step of a massively exciting journey to extend our beautiful home. I also had a pair of dirty pants thrown at my head. You can’t win them all!

Lucy xx


 

New year, new me…. my arse! 

Hey all, wishing you a very happy new year, how exciting is it to be facing a new year, a fresh start and all the new possibilities that 2017 will bring?

Well most people go into New Years Eve with some kind of plan, resolutions and exciting prospects ready for the new year. Me being me however I was just ridiculously excited at the thought of going out, to an actual party. It’s been many months since I’ve been able to go out and enjoy myself properly due to the horrible symptoms and side effects I was suffering from endometriosis.

I had basically stopped drinking and was on so many different tablets that alcohol would affect it was pointless and as the symptoms got worse my confidence all but went along with it.

Since my operation three weeks ago I’ve been stuck between two worlds, my mind knowing I’m better and wanting to do ‘Sound of Music’ style running around a mountain side and my body saying ‘hang on love, major surgery, sit down!’ I am my own worst enemy and have had to rest up as much as possible as I didn’t realise just how much the operation would take out of me and how much energy it would take to get over it.

My Auntie Jayne has a New Years Eve party most years and we literally didn’t know we were going until the day. I’d had a bad week, overly emotional, in lots of pain and a general mess but Karl convinced me that we should go, even if just for an hour the boys would enjoy it and the family would be pleased to have seen us. So I got excited, I straightened my hair for the first time in months, I wore going out makeup and pretty jewellery.

When we got there it was fantastic, I felt so tired but chatted and giggled and even allowed myself a couple of glasses of prosecco for the first time in what felt like an age. I had a little boogie with Nate my eldest son (well I say boogie, I mean awkward, painful shuffle as dancing isn’t really on at the moment!) We had fun, it felt amazing to be smiling and almost carefree for the first time in months.

We stayed long enough to see in the new year and not long afterwards I felt the need to go out and get some air. I sat down on the driveway and well then I passed out. Yes a thirty three year old mother of two less than three weeks post major operation passed out on a cold driveway with beautifully straightened hair and my Kate Spade handbag!

You would think that would be bad enough wouldn’t you? Oh no, I wasn’t done there! I was sick, I won’t go on about it too much but suffice to say Karl and family members looked after me for over three hours until I was able to be driven the forty five minute journey home. 

My mum had already bought the children home and put them to bed and karl had to carry me inside the house where there was a small dispute about me going to bed in my clothes, I had to be undressed by my mum and husband and was left to sleep. 

I woke up on New Year’s Day feeling like I had been hit by a bus, everything ached, I couldn’t remember everything that had happened the night before and had a little cry. The boys got up with a million questions about whether I needed to go back to the hospital, why did I smell of sick and how naughty I am for drinking the wine.

I felt embarrassed, a bit mortified and ridiculously daft, I really hadn’t drunk that much and had yet again made the mistake of trying to do too much too soon after major surgery. I spent the whole day  in bed and later on in the day I flicked through the camera roll on my phone at the pictures that had been taken. I looked happy, I was beaming, I had been having the most fun I had been able to have in ages. 

For the rest of this week I have done the normal New Years thought processing and planning for an amazing 2017. I sadly felt in a bit of a rut with my writing though, a mini writers block and I confided in my best friend that all I had to write about was me puking in my aunties driveway on New Years! 

So here it is, my very honest account of someone recovering from a hysterectomy getting a little over excited and drinking when they probably shouldn’t have done to make up for a shitty and miserable few months. I am far from perfect, in fact I am rarely even adequate, I make mistakes and do stupid things just like anyone else on our planet.

Yet I like everyone else am still looking into this new year with positivity, happiness and hope. Knowing that I have some amazing friends and family around me and that they can throw one hell of a party! 

Happy new year you lovely people. Let’s kick some arse in 2017! 

Lucy xx