Friday, 8 November 2013



The time has come for my Son to take to the boxing ring it’s soon to be his fist fight of the new season.

You would think that after having suffered this sport for the last 4 years of his life I would have grown use to the nerves that I feel when watching my baby climb into a ring to fight another boy.

I have been asked before by other mothers how I can just sit there and watch my son fight and not jump into the ring and split it up. Believe me it’s so very hard. Every emotion possible runs through my body, tears sting my eyes but don’t fall due to cold fear, my heart beats so fast that I think I am about to have a panic attach, I shake uncontrollably as I fight to keep the rising sickness at bay. I love that boy and cant stand to watch him get hit, you have to remember that that other fighter is out to actually knock him out, his opponent would love nothing more than to see him laid on the canvas out cold.
As awful as that sounds that is the reality of the sport. Although it is horrendous I would not miss it for the world because win or lose put all of the other emotions aside and the overwhelming feeling is admiration.

The amount of hard work and dedication that a boxer puts into preparing himself to fight in its self is admirable. The children at my son’s gym train six days a week, as well as road work (jogging) and the constant weight watching.

Love it or hate it you have to respect the hard work.

I however will still be watching him through my fingers as he walks to the ring.

Monday, 9 September 2013

 


Why fairytales and mushy films/books are bad for your love life. 

Doesn’t every little girl dream about finding her Prince?

Growing up fairytales are forced down our throat at every given opportunity. Mother’s read them to their little princess before lights out, Disney films are played almost on loop.

 As a teen we move onto chick flicks and sit watching willing the lead rolls together despite their obvious miss match and as a lady we are introduced to the modern day Prince charming with a dark side but still strangely perfect and desirable Mr. Grey.

We then spend a life time looking for love, that one special person but do we ever really find him?

 
The vast majority of relationships start with a wonderful honeymoon period where you’re desperate to spend every available moment in each other’s company. Every gentle touch setting off a trillion little explosions throughout your body and every little glance in your direction makes you feel like the only girl in the world. Time feels like it’s going backwards when your apart. You sit staring at your phone willing it to ring, your heart racing in anticipation at just hearing his voice, you’re addicted… you’re in love… possibly for the first time ever. This person is the one, nobody has ever made you feel so alive before…


And then you get comfortable and suddenly everything changes and you find yourself so disappointed by what’s on offer. You realize that men appear to have a brain and for some reason unknown to us women they are not following the rules of the great love story’s that we have grown up believing in. Instead they are dancing to a whole different tune. Your man actually starts to seem like an alien creature and suddenly your prince charming has changed into a PlayStation playing, football loving, farting, beer swilling lads lad that even has the audacity to put his needs before yours.
hardcore-gamer-smoking-pizza-slob



You’re left wondering what went wrong? Why isn’t he following the rules? Why isn’t he charging along on a white steed wheeling his sward to save you from that tracksuit clad chav that just offered you half a cider?

 


You become a women obsessed and you find yourself on a mission to save him from the evil spell that a dark witch has so obviously put on him (just like in a fairytale) you notice he changes around his friends perhaps one of them is in fact the villain in disguise, you become suspicious of this sneaky villain that is clearly intent on spoiling your happiness. Your man starts hiding his phone (more likely you just didn’t notice that he kept it in his back pocket before but still)A jealous women works with the stealth of a SAS agent and tracks down that phone and reads his texts (whilst he is showering most likely)



but when the secrets of his sudden personality changes are not reveled then mission social network must begin(I will keep the details of what that entails a secret) then when your jealousy becomes unbearable he dumps you…that isn’t covered in the fairytales but it is in the chic flicks. You’re utterly heartbroken and cannot understand what went so wrong you blame everybody but yourself and drown in your own sorrow ensuring that copious amounts of alcohol and ice cream is consumed followed by an epic man hating discussion with equally scorned friends before embarking on a new mission to win him back because the gal always ends up with Mr. Perfect… right?


Wrong. But unfortunately due to such childhood brainwashing more women than not find themselves pressing the self-destruct button on the relationship front and losing the man once the chivalry turns to chavery I fully blame the fairytales, chick flicks and chick lit for setting unrealistic standards in love, and us women need to realize that Mr. Book/Film Perfect only exists in fiction and what we need to do is look for and live with what’s on offer…Right? Should we just accept and make do?

 
I don’t know the answer but such films and books helped me write “Loved and Lost” so I’m not complaining really lol.

 

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Psssst! I’m going to let you all in on the secret of the sacred world of a women’s handbag .


You learn from a young age that you should never ever under any circumstances venture into the forbidden world of your mums mysterious handbag.

On the very rare occasion that you are asked to retrieve something from said handbag you must follow the strict instructions and only retrieve the item requested or face sudden death.

This rule follows us into Adult hood, ensuring that a women’s handbag and the vast amount of secrets it holds will be a mystery forever.

So today my dear friends I am breaking away from this particular strict rule that takes pride of place in the “secret code of women” hand book and revealing the contents on my work bag.

Here goes. I apologies in advance to all women for revealing such highly guided secrets I do hope I can be forgiven, but I often find myself doing such disrespectful things when I’m suffering from utter boredom. I’m a bad bad women.



1. Out of date letters from school and old bills. – Such items are kept for point of reference or maybe scrap paper you just never know when they might just come in useful.
2. An organizer – Not used due to storing all appointments on my smart phone, but it is handy for the moon phases and it looks good.
3. Ghostly photos – You never know when you might be stuck for a conversational point or perhaps you will bump into a medium whilst out on your lunch hour.
4. Scarf – living in England the weather has this habit of changing without prior notice
5. Purse – Obvious reasons
6. 2 pens – same as above
7. Scrap paper – you just never know
8. Make up compact containing eye shadow and lip stick – A very important piece of kit possible the most important thing any women should have in her handbag for times of emergency you just never know who you might bump into.
9. Make up bag with 3 lip sticks and cover stick – Same as above plus a choice of colour is vital
10. Migraine sumatriptan – Epic importance for all Migraine sufferers
11. Paracetamol 500mg – as above
12. Ibuprofene 200mg – as above
13. Tesco migraine refile 342mg – as above hmm I have a tablet collection to rival any chemist store
14. House keys – obvious reasons
15. Car keys - same
16. Work keys – same
17. Phone – connection to the world and boredom smasher tool
18. Chewy – gives my jaw something to do
19. XXX strong mints – for after coffee
20. Angle – to guide me
21. Hair grip – emergency tool for bad hair days

Now you must guide this secret with your life and never let on that you know what interesting important items us women store in our bags.

Monday, 19 August 2013

Visit to a Psychic.

Welcome to my first ever blog. Not really sure where to start. So I guess I should just get typing and see how this goes.

As it turns out I have just been on a three week break from work and one of my treats to myself was to visit a Psychic lady. Before my reading I wasnt really sure if I believed.

I was called into the little voodoo looking shed in the back garden, as I pushed the door open and walked in the first thing she said to me was "October is your month my love its your birthday a lady is passing you a rose" creepy i thought as a little shudder ran down my spine, but that could have been just a very lucky guess...right?

firstly she read my palm and asked me to choose some tarot cards from the pack. She randomly called out a couple of names and told me that somebody was very jealous of me and that I had to watch out for it and to be careful of whom I trusted. All stuff that you could get to fit around most people I thought.

The psychic asked me about two recent fetal deaths that she felt around me, I considered this and told her that I could maybe place one as a relative had miscarried a baby earlier this year, but that I had no idea about the other one, again if you ask any lady in her thirties if she knows of somebody that had lost a baby the answer will probable be yes. But to my surprise she then blurted out "I’m picking up on a boy and his name is Tommy, Mark and Steven are both important to him" Wow she is amazing the lost baby was named Tomas Mark Steven. Ok perhaps she was just lucky with that one.

So far not bad, but then she really impressed me with what happened next. My reading was almost over and the psychic lady said to me “What’s the great love story that surrounds you…It’s on paper…I can see you writing something down…do you write?” wow I thought coincidence or lucky guess?

I will keep the other stuff close to my chest for now, but it’s fair to say that I am now a firm believer.