Tension headaches, power problems and pesky button holes…….

Hey all, how are things? I am now on day six of what has been diagnosed by the doctor as a tension headache. This is something I feel like I have been suffering with for sometime but have never really been sure of the cause. The doctor asked me what do I have to be stressed or tense about. Now I didn’t cry or list off the things I feel are contributing to my stresses but it has caused me to do some serious reflecting and to think about all the things that I currently have going on. From a serious renovation and extension project to a change of role at work to my normal battles with my anxiety and depression and of course being a mum to two boys who have spent far more time in the local minor injury clinic this last week than I am happy with.

Life is as always fast paced and terribly busy. I am slowly realising that this is my life and I just need to work out ways within it to keep me on an even keel and not suffering from brain splitting headaches. I am going to try and get more into meditation, I am going to make more time for reading as I always find that escapism in some way comforts me, I am going to try and eat right (yes I acknowledge this means I have to stop eating all the peanut M&M’s!), cut down on alcohol and appreciate the tiny things more. I also am going to put more into my journaling and to make a point of writing a little something every morning before I begin my day about what I am worrying about, what I would like to achieve and what I am grateful for.

I realise I need to identify times that are the most likely to cause extra stress and tension and plan better for them. For example this week when the plasterers are in the house and everything is a total whirlwind coupled with Karl being in Ireland I have been in a massive spin. I as always put some of my thoughts and feelings on Instagram and some of my lovely friends there were able to give me some reassurances. A very wise lady who I have met through Instagram Gabrielle Treanor asked me what I could put to one side this week to not add to the additional stress. She also asked me what I could do every day to make time for my own wellbeing and offered to check in on me to see how I am doing. Today being the first day I have done nothing so far but write as I am waiting for delivery of our new wardrobe doors so I’m stuck in a sense. I will of course let you know how I get on with this as I am not keen on just taking pills to get rid of these headaches and would rather try and fight them naturally.

So to start the day as I meant to go on I came to my mums this morning for the boys and I to get ready as the plasterers were arriving early. Now this means even more dust and it was just easier to make use of my parents house. They were out this morning so I started pottering about to get ready. I was upstairs when I could smell toast being cooked downstairs, I smiled as it’s nice that the boys are taking responsibility for themselves but also had a shudder wondering what could go wrong. I sorted the clothes and came downstairs to make some tea. I opened the fridge to get the milk and noticed the fridge light wasn’t on. I thought this odd but that was it and continued to fill the kettle and put the teabag in the cup. It was only when the kettle wouldn’t switch on that it finally twigged that something wasn’t quite right. It was only then also that I heard a loud pitched alarm type sound that continued to beep every minute and a half thereafter. The power was quite clearly out.

I had no idea where the circuit box is in my parents house but assumed it was under the stairs. I couldn’t find it so called Karl as I couldn’t get hold of my mum. He was just getting on a plane and you could tell giddy at the prospect of a child free few days but told me that the circuit box was in my parents garage and that I would need to move a few bits out of the way but should be able to sort it. So I opened the giant garage doors (still in my pyjamas as I planned on showering at mums) only to find what I can describe as a mountain of gardening equipment surrounding the worlds smallest circuit box. I had to move a garden mower thing, a wheel chair, camping equipment, two scooters, a go kart and all manner of other heavy garden type machinery before I could even get near to the circuit board. All the while I was doing this I could hear the boys screaming at each other. I managed to flick the switch and went back inside to check that the power had turned back on. It had and I ignored World War Three raging between the boys to go back outside and try and get all the bits back in the garage.

I have never been much good at jigsaw puzzles so this life size version wasn’t going well. Not helped by the fact that the giant lawn mower leaf blower thing kept wheeling itself off along the driveway every time I let go of it. eventually I managed to get it all in and got back into the house dripping with sweat and looking like stig of the dump. I then had to deal with the broken items that the boys had damaged while waging World War Three and still had both them and I to get ready. I clicked the kettle on and the whole lot shorted again. You can imagine how my stress and tension levels were then!

Leo had a Royal Wedding themed day at school today and along with his smart wedding attire we foraged in the garden and made a beautiful button hole for him out of cow parsley, forget me nots and other greenery. I put it in a bowl with some water last night and into the fridge to keep it nice and fresh for this morning. The only trouble was that when it came out of the fridge it had turned into an ice cube and had to spend much of the morning defrosting before I decided that I couldn’t send him to school with a floral ice cube strapped to his shirt so gave up. I did however tell as many people as I could on the school run that we had made a button hole but I’m sure the vast majority thought ‘yeah whatever, what idiot turns a button hole into an ice cube?!’

I hope that my ramblings have in some way made you smile and I admit that because I can’t do anything else other than wait for wardrobe doors I am going to make another cuppa (and hope it doesn’t short the power again!) and just sit and be for a bit. What’s the worst that can happen?

Have a great day lovely people, Lucy xxx

If you want to read more about the work of my lovely friend Gabrielle Treanor click here.

Boys and why I will never understand them…….

You all know that I have boys. I am the only girl and I have wholeheartedly had to embrace all manner of boy related activities that I have never before experienced in my life. However recently it feels like I am seeing the differences between the sexes in ways I never have before.

I’m not being sexist nor am I trying to generalise but I talk from my experiences as a mum of boys and the only woman in my home. Friends who have little girls that I have had the pleasure to spend time with say that their girls are content to just be. A classic example of this was a barbecue at a friends house last week. She has a boy and a girl. Her daughter sat around the table eating chocolate ice cream and conversing with the adults. Our son’s collectively ran around screaming, climbed to the top of the play house, splashed each other in the paddling pool and made a new carpet out of pop corn.

I must have said about a hundred times ‘this is my life’ and it’s absolutely true. I live in a bubble of screaming, wrestling matches, Lego and food fights. My toiletries are used to make magic potions, we get through at least two liquid soaps a week due to potion making and washing Lego (yes that’s a thing) my ornaments and pretty things are used as targets for Nerf guns, there are piles of old wrenches, tools and bits of old bottles around the house that the boys have excavated from the garden and I’m never more than 30cm from something that’s come from the sea whether that be a crab shell, claw, shells or bits of stinky cuttlefish.

With half of the house being a building site we have become a world of wonder to the boys who don’t just walk out of the new extension but swing like monkeys on the scaffolding poles. They try to climb the ladders, they pile up bricks to make dens and give the poor builder palpitations worrying about the aspects of health and safety. The poor cows who are now out in the field at the bottom of the garden keep staring into our garden and I feel the Mummy cows looking at me and thinking what I am ‘those boys, they never bloody stop’. I wonder if it is a sign of madness when you start to communicate telepathically with cows? Anyway I digress.

The boys are already showing signs of having no clue what girls are about. Nate and I ventured into a clothes shop last week and had to walk through the women’s section before reaching the kids clothes. Nate loudly gasped and said how rude it was that the mannequins weren’t wearing bras and how boring girls clothes are. No fucking clue of how many hours lots of men spend shopping with their partners. I have a lovely dressing table which when I first got I savoured filling the drawers with all my make up, toiletries and girly things. I can’t however use anymore space on the table itself than about a five cm gap because it’s always covered in lego, bogies, racing cars, shells, books, make up bits I didn’t leave there that have been stolen and used for war paint by the boys and all manner of other boy related crap that has no place on a dressing table.

Sometimes I wonder if I should just give in and get rid of anything girly because the time it would save me in cleaning up what they wreck would be immense but I still hold on to needing some girly stuff or I will lose my sanity (she lost it ages ago I hear you say!) I’m not really sure what the point of this post is other than to offer solidarity to any other mums out there who right now and sat in the middle of a game of volleyball in the living room, who have shouted at least three times today about putting the toilet seat down, cleaned up wee from around the side of the toilet and had to shut the fridge because apparently boys are far too busy to close doors.

I love them, they are my life and I would never be without them but I know now and can say without doubt or reservation that one day someone will say referring to one or both of my boys ‘Men! I will never understand them!’ Those people will have no idea how hard I have tried to get them to understand the opposite sex, to take on board how different we are and to show respect.

Must dash as my latest Ideal Home magazine is being ripped up to make paper planes. Much love xxx

The things Mums do…..

I am a mum to boys, anyone who has ever read my blog before will know this and every so often I go a little bit mad.

Today is one of those days, I have just had what I can only describe as a childlike tantrum at having to clear up wee from the floor around the toilet for what feels like the millionth time this week. They have a body part that allows them to aim and yet it’s like they go into the bathroom, stick on a blindfold and just have a laugh pissing fast and loose all over the place all the while thinking ‘it’s alright Mummy will clear it up’

Now as much as I have become an expert in cleaning up other peoples piss from the second the boys were born I have to be honest and say it really isn’t my favourite thing. It smells, it goes literally everywhere and leaves nasty stains. It is my most used sentence of every single day ‘WHO HAS WEED OVER THE SIDE OF THE TOILET AGAIN’ only for every single male (including my husband) to tell me it wasn’t them.

Perhaps I have developed some kind of urinary dementia and in fact it’s me soiling the bathroom floor hundreds of times a day but I actually think the chances of this being the case are about the same as me being elected as the next US president (I guess stranger things have happened!)

When I was getting ready to go out on Friday last week for the first night out in at least six months I needed to have a shower. I explained to both the boys that I would be using the one and only bathroom and if they needed the toilet they should go. No one did of course, in fact I don’t think either of them even answered me. Mid way through my shower as I was shaving my legs which I have to say had required shaving for some time Leo appeared dancing around and had a massive poo on the toilet. He then looked at me and said ‘who is going to wipe my bum?’ Now Leo my youngest is six and should really be able to do this for himself however as with many things when it comes to it he miraculously doesn’t remember how. He tried after I moaned and managed to get shit all over the bathroom floor. So, one leg smooth and silky the other looking like a yeti’s I had to get out of the shower and clear up him, the floor, myself and take a number of deep breaths. I then got back in the shower only for him to say ‘Mummy, why have you got only one hairy leg?’

I literally skipped out of the door when Karl got home but it seems strange that he doesn’t have these issues when he has the boys and I’m pretty sure he would say.

We then have the continuous arguments about doing things, things such as needing to wear pants, needing to change pants, needing to put pants in the washing basket, needing to not wipe bogies over the walls, needing to understand that it’s not appropriate to fart anywhere you fancy and many other basic rules of life and hygiene which both boys refuse to acknowledge or adhere to. Who cares about brushing teeth, being clean or wearing the same pants 21 days in a row anyway?

There is also this bizarre ritual I have to go through on a daily basis (when I’m not wiping up wee) where I have to find things the boys have lost. We do this not just at home but anywhere we go and we can lose literally anything at all. They come out of the doors at school wearing nothing but a shirt, trousers and shoes and daily I ask ‘ where is your bag/jumper/coat/lunch box/drinks bottle’ you get the drift. Only to be met by a vacant look of I have no idea and I then do the annoyed mum route March around the playground, town, school, house, car or any other place we have been.

I know I am moaning, I know I am so very lucky to have beautiful, healthy and happy children but some days I do feel like I’m going ever so slightly insane (well more insane than usual) Anyway must go, Nate needs a poo!