the world is a scary place for a woman

Speaking out about physical abuse is hard, I have mentioned, fleetingly about my experience of being made to strip when I was 12. That single act haunted me for over 23 years and now I have had EMDR I’m able to see it for what it was. Abuse. 

The media is so full of the #metoo stories, of brave people who have been abused or affronted by perverse people who don’t grasp the word, ‘no’ and the concept that someone else’s body is not theirs to touch, grope, or even ogle. 

The case of the Presidents’ Ball saw me conflicted - yes these women were treated unfairly, but they were told how to dress before they even turned up to Work. Yes it was wrong, and against every fibre of my being, but as someone who has been independent since the age of 18, there’s no way in hell I could stand for that treatment, but then complain afterwards. 

Perhaps because I speak as an abuse survivor, that taints my view and fuels my feminism towards activism and not tolerating even the everyday sexism that infects our society - I may not have been the coolest kid at the Xmas doo when I loudly accused the DJ of being sexist for asking men to get a bra off women. 

In the case of ‘Grid Girls’ and Darts Ladies losing their jobs because of some new-found political correctness drive - it’s so redundant. These women are losing their jobs because someone at some level feels guilty. Women (and men) who do jobs because they are a bit of eye candy, make that choice. Whether that be as a grid ‘girl’ or a page 3 model. 

The choice to do these jobs is their choice. As a feminist and a woman, I find these jobs demeaning to all women. But the fault lays with the society that created these jobs, decades ago. Women losing their jobs in the name of reducing sexism and objectification really bothers me. It shouldn’t be these women losing their jobs, it should be the idiots who thought it was acceptable in the first place who are held accountable. 

I salute anyone who has experience, who speaks out for what they believe in and who wants a better world. 

Women, do what you want to do. Not because a man forces you to. 

In which I wang on about my childhood

I have discussed my childhood extensively on this blog. I currently experience EUPD and/ or PTSD as a result of the relationships and disturbance of attachment when I was a child and a teenager.  I was emotionally neglected 

looking back at the roads I've travelled

I've finished CBT for my anxiety today. 12 sessions and 'sha-zam!' I'm anxiety free... well, not quite. Far from it, but at this important point in my journey I feel that it's important to see how far I have come, on a day to day level.

I wrote about learning to see my anxiety and I do, even more so. I catch myself mid-worry and then see 

What the worry is

Is it real?

Is there any evidence for my thoughts?

Can I do anything about it now?

Can I send it away? 

This is my mental version of The Worry Tree. A diagram which is a bit lame to be honest. It's more of a flowchart that someone drew a tree around. 

I journal and make lists - I am aiming for almost daily 'worry 15' where I can let my worries run around and I can sort them out. 

I'm less afraid of things that are imaginary - like 'what's the worst that could happen?' Isn't always a helpful question, but an 'is it likely? Is it the end of the world?' Check is pretty helpful.

I can see my intolerance of uncertainty: I can't control people, life, animals, ANYTHING! However, I've always really clung to the idea that anxiety makes everything work better for me. 

It doesn't! Preparing for the worst and imagining all the worst things made me miserable for the last 17 years. 

So I am actually better, anxiety-wise, finishing therapy is hard, it's making me feel low and sad and rejected. Probably the EUPD part of my mind.

I see now that my anxiety stems from intolerance of uncertainty and I wrote it a letter early in 2016 . It sprang up when my entire life stopped making sense: my mum and stepdad were shit, my dad and stepmum were shit, my boyfriend had dumped me and my two best friends had to resit year 12/ lower sixth. 

I had no one at school, no one at home, with the love for my siblings and a lot of praying to survive. 

I'm amazing. I've lived with GAD for years, undiagnosed, unrecognised. I have a career, a family and a husband. And friends. 

I'm not in that place I was in, but I'm glad I can see why it all started. 

big boys don't cry... WTF?

Yesterday, whilst having his feet measured in Clarks, the kind assistant asked how N got such a large bump on his forehead. He said 'at the park'. She asked whether he cried, 'yes' he replied. 

'Oh, I thought you were a big boy' she said. Bloody hell! I quickly added 'it's ok to cry when you're hurting. It's ok for anyone to cry'.

For context, the injury is above, it was a massive bloody bump on his forehead. Anyone would cry!

Boys cry, girls cry, men and women cry. Please, if you deal with children in your work, don't enforce gender stereotypes upon small children. 
 

Father Christmas

I feel really uncomfortable with Father Christmas - it's the lying and deceiving bit that doesn't sit right with me.

For context, my mother lives in a dream world, creating her reality lie, upon lie.

'Oh, but the other parents won't thank you if your child tells the others that Santa doesn't exist'

2 responses: 'fuck off' which is fine, but also, 'I'm not saying I won't let Father Christmas exist, I'm saying that I don't want to deceive my children (too much)'.

I've decided that Father Christmas is given money by us parents and grown ups, to get presents for children. I mean, elves aren't going to knock up a Lego Ninjago set are they? E is 5, not stupid. It's also a good way of managing expectations, everything is based upon what we as a family can afford, because that's how family works. Father Christmas may be magical, but we work hard to get those presents so it's us who deserve the Thank You once the gift is unwrapped.

I've tried the 'he is watching' but why only in December and not the other 11 months? 

I stopped believing in Father Christmas at about 7. I also remember being lied to and thinking, 'he hasn't eaten that mince pie or drunk that sherry'.

I'm rambling, to get these thoughts out of my head. 

Do as you wish, and I'll not rock the boat. It's a clever illusion, and it is a bit magical. 

I don't like babies

I have a confession, it isn't a secret, but it's a bit of a taboo...I don't like babies.

I could change a terry nappy at 9 years old, I made formula bottles, bathed multiple toddlers and fed little mouths when in was a child myself.

In short, I did more caring for preschoolers than many adults, before I'd reached puberty. I had done my bit and babies held no mystery for me.

Babies just look at you, and then they poo, cry, flail and the only feedback is a clean bottom and less crying. Yes, you get small glimmers of a budding personality, lile smiles, laughter, words, clapping. But crikey, they're BORING, one way conversation and endless games.

Give me a toddler over a baby any day (I'd rather have a guinea pig to be fair). They are great company, can be bargained with (never with m&ms) and are just FUN (miles more fun if they aren't your own, trust me).

I didn't get broody for our first baby, me and MrB just decided to give this baby thing a go. I was broody for a short while when E was about 6 months old.

I haven't been broody since, except for a guinea pig, a PAIR of guinea pigs to be precise. I love them.

I am the self proclaimed queen of potty training boys!

So, I've finally reached the level of blogging about potty training. Be prepared for a rip roaring read!

So at the age of 3 and 3 months, I think we *may* have found the way to help him to harness his daytime needs. Yay!

My potty training must haves

A potty - even a pound shop one - decorate it with stickers if it helps!

Crocs - we have ones from Poundland, just in case shoes are weed on!

Small pedal bin liners with sanitary towels - you can use them to line a potty when out and about. Makes getting out that bit easier

I advise waiting until your child is ready. Ignore the '2 year old rule' of the 80s, think more along the lines of 3 years. Cut yourself some slack!

I had 2 children in nappies...for the record, it was easy! You only have to remember your own toileting needs.

I have 2 boys, and I only ever have 2 days off with them at a stretch because of my working days. It's perfect for everything, except for 'potty training' advice in books, which usually suggests you have a week off with your little cherub and let them crap all over your carpet or garden.

So, my eldest, was potty ready at 33 months. He refused his nappy very suddenly, needed very occasional reminders and had 2 daytime accidents. Within 2 weeks he refused his bedtime nappy and the only thing we had to do was to stop a large bedtime drink of milk.

He was really easy!!

Now, Noah, has been aware of his bladder control for a while. So I pushed him, maybe a little earlier than I needed to. He tried, didn't like it and then refused to go near to a potty for months.

I've always had them coming to the loo with me, I've normalised toilets, discussing diarrhoea and 'leakies'. Making no big deal of anything, but letting them know what to do.

I was worried that Noah was afraid of the potty/ toilet, so I did what any self-respecting, smartphone-wielding parent would do...I googled! Each time either boy sat on the little blue plastic throne, I gave them a tiny piece of chocolate even with nappy and trousers on. Within a couple of hours, the fear had evaporated and Noah had discovered that it fitted his head. The blue really brought out the colour of his eyes!

A week later, after a few spells of leaving his nappy off, in was pottering in the kitchen and got shouts of 'done a wee' and with another hour 'done a poo!'. Ewan has been really helpful and supportive of his little brother today. He makes me very proud. They both do.

Update: no accidents at home, half a day of accidents at nursery (2nd day of training)and he has been dry day and night since.