I Love Christmas!!

I love Christmas! Everyone knows that! It is totally, completely and utterly my most favourite time of the year! I love the songs, the decorations, the giving (and getting) the whole spirit of it! I get so annoyed at people who don't celebrate it (different religions aside, this is nothing to do with other peoples beliefs before I start getting moaned at for not taking their beliefs into account!) From December 1st (which is my Dad's birthday) I am in Christmas mode! I love planning the presents and solely believe it really is the thought that counts! I love the build up. I love the lights. I love the excitement! I love the magic! I love the family time. I love the games. I love the parties! I love everything about it!!
So Christmas 2011, first Christmas with my big bub, second Christmas in our own place (me and Ayden) 3 days after I had the proof of Aydens silly little mistake! I was not organised at all! We had left nearly everything til the last minute. I was giving everyone a picture of Kovu in a decorated frame and I had the frames, the wrapping paper etc but I hadn't even printed out the pictures!! So we spent all Christmas Eve printing out pictures and putting them in the frames, then decorating the frames then wrapping them!! Add a grumpy wide awake 2 month old and you've got a Christmas Eve never to be forgotten!! So we vowed never to do that again!
Christmas 2012, 3rd Christmas together (different house) 2nd Christmas with big bub and I'm pregnant :). After we'd vowed never to do it again that's what we found ourselves doing! Not pictures this year, home made  decorated boxes of chocs! Takes longer than you'd think! However at least this year I didn't have a grumpy wide awake 2 month old to contest with!
This year I promised I would be organised!!! And am I?! Nearly... The boys sacks from Santa have already been delivered by the big man in red himself so that I can put them at the end of their bed/cot on Christmas Eve! And the majority of presents are wrapped.. I have one left to go out to get.. 2 to still be delivered (issues with Argos!) all cards are written except one which needs to be put in the post, but nothing has been delivered to any recipients yet!! So that was my plan for today.. BUT as usual something goes a bit wrong!! This time it was my fridge freezer, it arrived yesterday at 4pm. Slap bang in the middle of me getting tea ready for K and a bottle for R. So Ayden and Jamie did what they could last night, but with all the sawing and drilling of cupboards and work surfaces the kitchen was still a mess this morning. So now Ayden is still trying to sort that out and I'm waiting for an ASDA food delivery!
We've then got a party for the boys this afternoon so the chances of delivering cards and presents today are very slim.
I am currently attempting to put both boys down for a nap so that I can get on but once I start cuddling I just let them stay all snuggled up until they wake! So I'll still be disorganised til Christmas Eve this year too!
Why break tradition?!
Merry Christmas everyone!!
xxxx

Hormones

So I haven't blogged since the last bomb shell. Figured now was a good time to, and what more appropriate topic than something relating to the birth of my second baby boy, Romeo.
After you have a baby you have midwives and appointments for this, that and the other coming out of your ears! At every one of these appointments the midwife has checked all the usual things like my BP, my tummy, asked if I have had any headaches, checked Romeo over for any problems, asked how he's feeding etc. They are also required to ask how I am feeling, am I well in myself? Have I had any "down times?" Any lack of interest in baby or daily activities etc? And my truthful answer is always no. I am feeling fine (apart from this blinking cold I can't get rid of thanks to G!) more than fine in fact, I am so happy and amazed with this little miracle, my second little miracle who is just as perfect as his big brother. I am so blessed to have the family and friends I have. Always there for me literally at the drop of a hat! One example of this is yesterday. Kovu decided he didn't like his little brother taking up his place on his favourite aunties lap and slapped him round the face (no need to send social services round, no mark was left and Romeo cried for about a second and then got over it, tough cookie already!) I grabbed Romeo and cuddled him while G comforted Lola, who was upset cos Romeo was upset, and Zoe then dealt with Kovu! No one was instructed on what to do, we all just fit into place naturally. I feel very lucky with what I have been blessed with in my life and hope I don't take what I have for granted! Because of this, and my genetic make up I guess, I haven't had those "baby blues" with either Kovu or Romeo, with Kovu I was just so distracted by the fact that he was in neonatal that I didn't have time to be down, I was using that energy to bond with him and just show him how much I love him! And with Romeo, I'm just so happy that he wasn't poorly that I had no reason to feel down! Ayden is an amazing support and obviously my friends and family who are always there, and this support helps to keep the bad hormones at bay too! It's day 6 and they say day 5 is when baby blues generally starts and so far so good. So I basically wanna say thank you to all those people who are there for me, to keep my spirits high and my level of "gratefulness" and just general happiness high! I love you all and Kovu and Romeo are lucky to have you in their lives!

Serial Killers

Since splitting up with Ayden, my wonderful family have come to the rescue, as usual! Although, I’ve not been as upset as I thought I would be – that’s that resilience thing again! I have a very philosophical outlook on life in the way that I believe everything happens for a reason and what is meant to be will be, to quote a few clichés. This outlook probably comes from the fact that from a young age I had to learn that there are things in life that you just CANNOT change, so deal with it! So I have taken this situation in much the same way, but to help me through the lower points I have had my family. My Giniie, who just sits with me and plots murder using methods from CSI and Criminal Minds! My Mummy, who just checks up every now and then with a text or a visit. My Grandy and Grandpa, who provide fish and chips every Friday and a free babysitting service if I need to go to Sainsburys. My Zoe, who I can call whenever I need to just to rant and then hear her say EXACTLY the right thing, every time! And last but not least my Auntie Karen, Leanne, Chelle, Tom and Abi. Every Thursday they have hosted a games night to keep my mind off things, give me something to look forward to and just to let me know they are there, providing lasagne, fajitas, pizza and snacks, along with a selection of games and hysterical laughing episodes (mainly from me because Chelles taking the piss out of Gina or Leanne, or Toms rabbiting on about something far too sophisticated for me to understand so I just laugh and nod, laugh and nod and he’ll never know!) So to finally link back to my title, it was at one of these games nights that the subject of serial killers came up.

I think ultimately it boils down to nature and nurture, and a mix of the two. I think we’re all born with the ability to kill and that ability is either grown, or crushed depending on your nurture, your upbringing. This “ability” I talk about is the ability for a 5”0, 8 stone woman to hold a door shut against a 6”2, 17 stone man’s full power, after having a door slammed shut on her, when her family is in danger; it is the ability that gives the strength to some mothers to lift a car that has run over their child; it is the ability that gives a young girl, who is shaking after being dragged down a street by her neck, her strength back when she thinks she needs to protect her dog; it is this ability that could be unearthed after being dormant in situations like these when it is needed; when you feel like you have nothing left to give and then something switches and you can suddenly give more than you ever knew you had in you.

There are actually quite a few situations that could trigger my “ability,” but they all come down to the same thing, if I needed to protect someone, family or friend. This ability is definitely not active in me, I feel remorse if I kill a spider, and I hate spiders! I think it is this remorse that is missing from serial killers, that gives them the ability to continue to do what they do.

I find serial killers stories fascinating! I like to know their motive, their signature, their trigger point, their desired target, and the “whys” behind it all. BUT it is these things, once they have all been discovered, that then lead to the arrest. So I think if I was going to be a serial killer I would make sure that there was no connection between any of the victims, and I would leave a signature like taking something from the first victim and leaving it on the second victim etc. (thanks Criminal Minds for that one!)

I think everyone can have these quite sadistic thoughts, and at the moment for me every night is one bad dream after the other (thanks to being pregnant) but to actually follow through with these thoughts is just something I cannot begin to understand. To want to hurt somebody else who hasn’t done anything directly to you, but just fits your desired profile, after a silly trigger point like being rejected by a love object or for a job is beyond me. Get a grip!

There does tend to be a link between most serial killers, as far as I’m aware, and that is a bad childhood and low self-esteem. That is not to say that everyone who has had a bad childhood and now has low self-esteem is going to end up a serial killer, but most serial killers seem to have that in common. I suppose another factor in becoming a serial killer is what you are exposed to and how desensitised you are to certain things. Obviously something I could be exposed to over and over again through TV etc, but NEVER become desensitised to, is car crashes. A couple of days ago I was watching something that had a car crash in it and it made me think that programmes that show a car crash should have a warning at the beginning! But then the world would go too far and everything would end up censored and we would all be wrapped up in cotton wool, so maybe not. But back to the point, if, as a young child and throughout your adolescent years, you are exposed to things like stabbings, shootings and beatings on a regular basis, it will eventually become “normal.” Which can then relinquish the fact that it is wrong. Obviously life isn’t going to be all flowers and rainbows, but making the best of a bad situation and resilience should be taught to all children to prevent (or at least reduce) these evil people. Because that seems to be what it comes down to – the majority of serial killers are intelligent people, so it’s not a lack of education, it’s more a lack of social ability, empathy, resilience and self-esteem.

“Oh woe is me, a girl I liked rejected me 15 years ago, and then my brother got a better job than me, and then my mum died, and then I got rejected from 3 jobs, so I know what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna find people who are happy in a relationship, with a good job and a mum and work in the places I was rejected from and I’m gonna shoot them so that the world gives me the recognition I deserve but never had!”

What baffles me is that they often want to be caught, hence leaving a signature, but they don’t consider that they will just end up with a prison sentence, often a death sentence, so what’s the point?! You still haven’t changed any of those things and never will.

I understand more, those that kill out of protection, or self defence, and those crimes of passion, because there are strong emotions behind them. But serial killings tend to be random people who are not known to the killer, just fit a target profile based on whatever warped idea they have in their head!

So to sum up, I’m really glad I don’t understand people who get to that point in their life, but it doesn’t stop me from being fascinated by what must go through their minds when they plan and carry out their horrendous actions.

The Dreaded One!

This one's going to hurt to write but it's what I want to write about now so that's what you're getting.
"Daddy Moments" are what me and my family call the moments we have when missing my Dad shows itself through whichever one it is, having a little cry. Mine tend not to last too long, a few minutes normally, 10 at the most, and they come about a few times a year. Most of the time something, or a combination of things triggers my moment and today was a build up of things that emerged as tears while I was putting Kovu to sleep.
On Monday when me and Ayden were driving back from the scan of baby #2 we saw a number of ambulances zoom past. I said to Ayden "something's going down" and made light of it. I later found out that they were all on the way to an RTA, or car crash (collision is how they always refer to it in the paper so as not to make it emotive I guess). It was between 2 cars, one had a 27 year old woman in it and the other car had a man, woman and baby. I read that the woman on her own had been taken to Addenbrooks Hospital with head injuries and the other 3 just to Bedford Hospital with minor injuries. I thought not a lot more of it, preferring not to think about stuff like this because I think too much into it and always put myself in a horrible place. Then today I read that the woman who had been sent to Addenbrooks had died of the injuries she sustained. Again it didn't affect me at the time of reading it, and then when it affected me was when I thought about all the people who had read about my Dad, who were not affected by his story, OUR story. That is hard to understand and hard to write because even though I was 4 years old, I remember that night and can recall it like it was yesterday. I won't put you through that so you can breathe a sigh of relief.
Another trigger was a dream I had about him last night. I dream EVERY night and ALWAYS remember them, even when I don't want to, and all my dreams about my Dad end with me being separated from him and waking up with a pain in my stomach and tears down my screwed up face. This one was no different and it hurt a lot because he was wearing a particularly "Daddy style" jumper (grey, purple and white) and he went before I could hug him. The majority of my Daddy moments come from wanting to feel him hug me again because it is something no one tells you you forget. I'm lucky, I guess, in some ways that my first ever memory is of me falling down our wooden stairs at the age of 3 and being scooped up by him while he shouted at my Mum to get some fruit pastilles (they solve everything!) so my memory is of a hug.
Another trigger is probably the pregnancy sending my hormones all over the place!
Trigger number 4 was something that happened at work today. The survey we're doing at the moment is a survey for those aged 50-74, to get their opinions and views on life between those ages, and one lovely man I spoke to was joking around saying he did feel financially obligated to his grown up children still because they knew his credit card number so there was no getting away from it. I joked back and said "that's what Dads are for". Again, I didn't think anything more of it at the time and then it all comes flooding back to me sitting in Kovu's room.
The final trigger for this "Daddy Moment" was the fact that every Friday I now pick up a little girl from her school which happens to be on the road opposite my Dads grave and driving down the road actually hurts. I don't go very often to see my Dad because I HATE, physically HATE, the fact that I have to visit my "Dad" as a pot of flowers on a plot of land in the ground. I feel safe there but I feel so sad at the same time, and so I avoid it, and now every week I head down that way and then turn right rather than left.
So basically to sum up this blog, I would just really love a hug from my Dad, and for Kovu to have a hug from his Granddad. I know he sees us both smile everyday, but I would really love to see him smile back, just once.

Ps. Sorry Mum x

The "One"

Most people who know me know I am an open book (most of the time).There are some things I keep to myself, the deeper things, but the basics I am happy to share. Life is too short to keep it all bottled up. So I thought I would share my views on the idealistic view of there being one person out there for everybody. Firstly I think this is wrong because there are people in this world who just don’t deserve ANYONE!! However, I do believe that everyone has a soul mate, who does not necessarily have to be your life partner. I think my sister is my soul mate. I got an idea from “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” when I was younger that in “heaven” or wherever you believe, you have “life stones” that are connected to your soul mates stones. I love this symbolisation and regularly remind Gina that it is illegal for us to not get on because our stones are connected!! So back to the matter at hand, this “one.” Well I think you can probably have more than just one (those that deserve it!) because I know I certainly wouldn’t fit in to this ideal. I also know my Mum doesn’t either. I love a LOT of people! Family, friends, people I don’t speak to much anymore but still would class as special to me! So it begins at pre-school... I loved a boy called Scott! I was convinced he was the one I would marry and spend my life with! This lasted until I moved schools when I was 7. By this time another boy had entered my ‘ever so long and complicated’ life. At the ripe old age of 5 my Mums partner at the time was selling his red rover and a family came to our flat to view it and then buy it. I thought nothing more of it, being a 5 year old I had way more important things to think about. Then when we moved, 2 years later, we found out this same family lived 2 doors down from us at the new house. My attraction to the youngest member of that family was not instant. Obviously, he was a boy and they had cooties!! But this boy became my friend. Then around 13 years old, after a very traumatic break up with a snooty Bedford School Boy, the attraction began. It was downhill from there!! We became “boyfriend and girlfriend” at the age of 14. This lasted a whole 2 months and 9 days and the day we broke up was exactly 1 day before the birth of my baby boy 9 years later! (I have a memory for dates!) The day after we broke up (exactly 9 years before my baby boy was born) I remember sitting in my bedroom with my, then best friend, Emily crying my heart out because I couldn’t imagine my life without him! (I’m not dramatic, honest!) I would just like to add that he broke up with me over a text... Sent by his mate!! Well my complete despair lasted about a week, after which another boy asked me out and I said yes. I was still in love with the first boy but of course I was young and moving on is easy to do! However, this relationship lasted for a whole week before that boy beat up my ex, because of that whole alpha male testosterone. After this my ex decided he wasn’t going to talk to me, for 2 years! Cue the resounding “awww”. Fast forward a year and 3 months and I fell in love with the father of my child (and bump). It has been a bumpy road, to put it nicely. We have always been rocky, on off on off on off relationship. So fast forward again to November 2008. The infamous ex is back in my life and makes a confession to me over the phone, to which I reply “prove it.” This, he does and then I have a choice to make. I make my choice and fast forward 3 years and I have my baby boy. Now as I’m sure most of you know by now, me and Ayden have come to the end of our journey together, with one baby and one on the way, and a whole lifetimes worth of memories, good and bad. So, again back to the matter at hand, I love Ayden and I always will, he is my children’s Daddy (and an amazing Daddy at that!) But I have never stopped loving that ex, and I never will. I would say HE is the love of my life, and I love Ayden in a different way. Not more, or less, but just different. I am sure that I will love others, and again this will be in a different way, not more or less, but different.

My reply to "Life As A Widower"

I was watching the news last night, something I rarely ever do because everything I need to know will eventually end up on Facebook anyway so there's normally no need; and a man was on as a guest because his wife had died after being hit by a car. He was young ish and had a 2 year old son. So I said to Kovu before the interview started that I didn't know how I was going to take this particular news story just to warn him before it started! So the man began explaining why he was there (because he had done a blog called "Life As A Widower" and within 10 days it had 100,000 followers (thats one hundred thousand Gina, just in case you got confused hehe)). So this was fine I understood all the bla bla bit about his blog and the fact that it was his raw emotions and he felt it was helping him by writing it down etc, and then the News Reader said the line that made me switch the channel which was "not only are you dealing with your own grief but how do you then cope with the grief of a 2 year old", and a picture came up of him with his son (cute). The reason for my hasty switch over was the fact that, and I do not mean for this to offend or take any of his grief away from him, I cannot even begin to contemplate what he is going through but, his son is 2. My Mum had a 4 year old, a 2 year old and a 4 month old. So he is nothing special. (Again I'm not trying to offend, just stating facts) A 2 year old, although they may miss their Mummy, will eventually, and sooner rather than later, just accept the fact that they are not coming back. A 4 year old may take a little longer, but will still accept that fact, and a 4 month old will never know! So of course he is dealing with his own grief, but what annoyed me was the way the News Reader made out like he was the only person in the whole world to ever have to go through not only his own grief but that of a child's as well. I cannot believe I'm going to say this but back in my day (I mean when I was 4 and my Dad died) there were no organisations to help us out or charities etc. The help and "charity" we got was from our family and friends and the kind people at the Church we attended at the time. There was no counselling offered to help any of us get through it, we just did. I'll say again, I am not trying to take anything away from this man, but I just wanted it noted that he is not the only person that HAS gone through this, IS going through this, and WILL go through this! AND there are plenty of people worse off!! Of course it promoted his blog, which I'm sure was the main reason for the news story, and I will probably have a look at it if I get the chance later, but it did remind me of my blog, which is the best thing to come out of the whole story as far as I'm concerned. The only other thing I will say is that I did agree with one thing he said which was for people to stop trying to be strong in these situations and to be weak! My friends Mum recently passed away, and at her funeral something really got my back up! I overheard someone (an adult, a mother) tell my friend that she needed to be strong. This really annoyed me because it was as if this woman was telling my friend to stop crying, suck it up and be strong so that everyone else didn't feel uncomfortable. Well, my immediate reaction was to give her a cuddle and dismiss what this woman had said by telling my friend to be weak, and break down, cry, scream and do whatever it was SHE wanted to do because we are allowed to, despite what some people say! One piece of advice I will carry with me is something one of my best friends said to me at an extremely difficult time, which was don't be afraid to cry because from the day we are born, crying is sign that we are alive!

I've got a lot of new ideas now for my blog so I'll be updating regularly. Or at least as regularly as Kovu will let me!

x