Well gosh darn it musers, its actually here. 2025 has arrived. It arrived much more quietly this year than usual. Fireworks events were cancelled across the country. People stayed at home and there was a distinct lack of partying. We all know the weather was a bit pants, and if anyone could confirm the name of the storm that caused a lot of the cancellations that would be great as I have lost track now, but I think the reality was - many of us weren't in the headspace to celebrate. 2024 was one of the hardest years that many of us have experienced in a long time, and in that statement I include the lockdown years, much as we like to forget about them! For me personally, I have spent the last seven days pretty much in bed. Its been around 15 years since I had the flu. We aren't talking the pretendy, 'I feel a bit shit but can still do stuff' flu either. We are talking the 'knock you off your feet, can't get out of bed without a huge effort, sleeping for 18 hours a day in between coughing up brown goop' kind of flu. It was the kind that leaves you wondering if you will ever want to do anything other than sleep again. The kind where even just going to the toilet becomes a feat of resilience and determination that only those who have climbed the summit of Everest could truly appreciate. I know, very dramatic! I have hit the point where I am sick of myself now, but the light at the end of the tunnel is that I am out of bed and have a degree of energy that I haven't felt for days. This can only mean one thing. Its buggering off! (Happy dancing in my head right now). Whilst lying in my makeshift coffin of a bed where at one point I actually thought I may not wake up because I had mixed my drugs up, (all legal), I got to thinking about last year and everything that came and went. Within the people I know, there was nobody who could categorically say that 2024 had been a good year for them. I had given out more hugs to crying friends and hopefully helped to lift their mood just a little than in any other year that I remember. That got me to thinking about my own year and what 2024 had brought for me, and on first look, it was a doozy. My dad had a stroke. My grandma passed away. My youngest left home leaving me on my own. I was back in hospital getting a loop biopsy done. I was diagnosed with C-PTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) I received a cancer referral for a lump that was suspect I had a fall that left me in pain and with limited movement in my knee for almost 10 weeks Both me and the Mr got the real flu and not the pretendy version during my Christmas break The Mr was made redundant 3 days before Christmas This is the 'off the top of my head' stuff. Its enough to knock anyone completely but actually, as I lay there trying not to cough up my guts whilst also hoping that not wanting to eat meant I would lose all the chocolate digestive weight I had put on through December, (thanks for keeping me supplied Lady Louise), I realised that actually, there were two ways to look at this. On paper, it looks like an absolutely shit year. Not just from a familial point of view but from a financial and a health point of view. The reality is, it was something completely different, and you have guessed it. I am going to tell you why. Lets start with the big man, my dad. At the beginning of 2024, I got a panicked phonecall from my mum. She broke down and told me that my dad had suffered a stroke and for a moment, my heart stopped. My dad had always been this source of strength and someone, like my mum, who would never age and would always be there. The reality immediately hit like a speeding bullet that he was like anyone else - mortal and going to leave us at some point. Moving from then to today, he made it through realtively unscathed. We thought we were going to lose him, but we didn't. He is getting better every single day and although he will never get back to where he was before the stroke, he is doing so well. I didn't lose my dad. In fact, his stroke changed his outlook on life along with mine and the things I didn't realise I didn't know. It gave me an opportunity to get to know the man who is Nigel and so much more than just a dad, and I would never have recognised the need to to do that without the possibility of losing him. Then there was my grandma . Anyone who has lost a grandparent knows just how difficult it is. A relationship with a grandparent is very different to that of a parent and my nanny was no exception. She was an animal lover, a fighter for everything she believed in and someone that you didn't take the mick out of but at one time or another, I think she put everyone of us up. Her family were her life and she would have died for each and everyone of them. I had the pleasure of having her in my life for all of my then, 46 years, and sharing every single one of my birthdays with her. Yes, it was hard losing her but she died at a grand old age. She died peacefully and we were all able to say our goodbyes before she went. It was her time and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had her around for so long. Alex Left Home For those of you who have stuck with me, you all know that this one was the walloper! Your first child goes, its tough, but there is always a little one coming up behind them. When the youngest goes you are all of a sudden left with an empty nest and no idea how to navigate life without them to look after. We didn't part on the best of terms. He wanted to be independant and didn't want to live with house rules and I wasn't prepared to be dictated to so he made the decision to move in with his grandma. For three months there was little to no contact and it was extremely difficult. Between the worry that he was okay and not knowing because he wasn't coming home anymore, there was the regular rejected phone calls and messages which made things really tough. The thing is, he actually made a very mature decision, and one that I wasn't able to make at the time because I couldn't see through the problems we were having. Distancing himself allowed both of us to step back, reevaluate and make the changes we needed to have a healthy, happy relationship. He spent Christmas Day with me and the Mr, and we are getting on like an absolute house on fire. Loop Biopsy, knee injury, C-PTSD and Cancer Referrals I'm gonna bring these ones together because nobody needs to overtalk this one! Medically, I think 2024 saw me in and out of hospital more than any other year to date. I am hoping I can leave it in 2024 because I haven't got the energy for another year like that! The loop biopsy was not the first, and no doubt will not be the last, but what makes this one different is that I had only had my first date with the Mr on the 16th March, and despite the early days, he insisted on coming with me to hospital when I went in May for the biopsy. It wasn't even a consideration that he wouldn't be there as far as he was concerned, and for me, having someone who was willing to drop everything and be there for me when it was needed was a whole new thing. I had never been in a relationship like that and that changed everything for me. It was the same in December when I was went to the hospital with a cancer referral. It all looks good musers so don't worry, but he was there to support me when the reality hit and he never wavered - even to the point of us leaving his friends couples night out early so I could go home when it all got too much for me. Just a side note as well - the NHS were incredible. From initial examination to hospital appointment and removal of the lump it only took two weeks. They were brilliant! The knee injury is one in a long list of injuries and as with everything else, I was once again shown how a real man behaves with the woman in his life. And that takes me onto the diagnosis of C-PTSD. Thats something I will talk about more as time goes on but whilst you might think the diagnosis would knock me for six, it actually changed everything. Apart from Mr T being the most unbelievably supportive person and beginning to change everything I had believed about relationships, that diagnosis actually came as a relief. Now I know I am not crazy. I know that my reactions and feelings are explainable, and I know that there are ways of dealing with it that will change my life exponentionally. That alone is huge and opens up so many possibilities moving forward. The flu however is the flu - what can you do! And then, 2024's last kick in the balls was my gorgeous man going into work three days before Christmas to find out that the business had ceased production and gone into administration with over 100 people losing their jobs. This should, like everything else, have completely walloped us but it didn't and as with everything else - it was all about perspective. You see, the reality is that 2024 was full of blessings hidden within the trials. I began to really get to know my parents as individuals rather than as parents I met the man I will spend the rest of my life with and learned what it is to be in a healthy, respectful and loving relationship. I was able to say goodbye to one of the most amazing women I have known. Through several hospital visits and health scares, I realised that I don't have to do it alone and that I can let other people in, and that my friends has been lifechanging. My PTSD diagnosis meant that everything I was dealing with was now justified and that there is a way through rather than just living with it. My youngest leaving home showed me that I actually did okay as a mum. He is happy, settled, and living his own life independently. I may not have been ready to accept that at the time, but he has proven that he was, and that means I have done something right! Mr T losing his job has opened up so many new possibilities for him and shown him just how much support and love he has around him which is amazing. We are lucky in that I work full time so we will be okay. For some of the staff who lost their jobs, I am sure that won't have been the case. On top of that, I was welcomed with open arms into a whole new family who are absolutely amazing. It feels like I have known them all my whole life. I was welcomed with open arms into his friendship circle, some of whom he has known since school, and they are such an incredible bunch of people. I have been able to incorporate the writing and creativity I love into the 9 to 5 which is amazing, and I have been given free rein to do so. I also finally lost my Blackpool virginity, and what a ride that was! I could go on and on, but the reality is that 2024 came with highs and lows. It was a tough year for so many, but when you look at it and maybe change the perspective, 2024 was actually a good year. You see, if you're here with me now then you are still going strong, no matter what it threw at you, and you have another 365 days of new chances to embrace. I have to be honest musers, there were days I could have crawled under my covers and not come back out again, but you know what, I am grateful for everything it threw at me. I have grown as a person in more ways than I realised. After all, there is no growth in a comfortable life, and although the world can throw what it wants at you, you can continue to disregard the negative and thrive. It just all lies in the perspective you choose. Until next time........

So, it was another one of those nights last night. As soon as my head hit the pillow, my brain switched on. I don't know how many of you have this problem, but honestly, its pants! I am fairly sure creative people are wired differently to those who are not cursed with a need to write or sing or make beautiful things. I am sure we are the 'creatures of the night' - forever at our best when the rest of the world sleeps. For me, I find some of my best ideas appear just as I am beginning to doze off. By the time I am out, I have half a blog already written in my head. The only problem with that... nine times out of ten I wake up and can't remember any of what I was thinking about. So that brings me back to last night. Just as I was beginning to settle, my mind started to drift to memories of scones, lemon meringue pie and cake, taking me back to childhood and a whole host of delightful and delicious moments that have shaped my love for food as I have grown up. From a young age, we were introduced to lots of different things. My parents sat on completely opposite sides of the fence when it came to food so it was very much dependant on who cooked as to what we could expect. My mum was a lover of beige food. Not too heavily seasoned but still proper hearty, homecooked, made with love type dishes. Her meals were like a hug for your tummy, and when you are cooking for a family of six on a budget, you have to be good at making things stretch. My dad, well he was a little more 'fly by the seat of your pants' with his cooking. He liked to experiment and boy, did we get some interesting combinations. I have talked about it in a previous blog, but his greggs stottie pizza definitely deserves another mention. For those of you want to to try it out, its quite simple. One greggs stottie chopped in half. 500gm fried mince Tomato puree Cheese You spread the puree on the stottie, cover it in mince, cover that in cheese and bang it in the oven for 10 minutes. What you are left with is a very interesting experience for the palate, and one I am pleased to say was never repeated! What I will say in his defence though, is that when he got it right, it was delicious. He enjoyed playing around with flavours and I think I can categorically confirm, that is one of the the things I most definitely inherited from him. Food was something that brought families together as I was growing up. From family dinners at the table with the telly turned off - heaven forbid - to family gatherings where we would run aorund like tasmanian devils sneaking as many cakes as we could until mum cut us off and we crashed on the couch from the sugar high, food was an integral part of our family, and when I think back to those moments, I am so grateful for the fact that we weren't a 'tea in front of the TV' family. At the time, I resented my parents for making us sit at the table, but as an adult those moments are, and continue to be, some of my favourite ones. Saturday was a big day in our house. Weather permitting, and even sometimes when it wasn't, we would wrap up and my dad would drag us off somewhere hilly, muddy, wet and cold. Absolutely mint! Obviously, as I became a teenager, I was officially very upset at this, but the reality was, behind closed doors I loved it. I loved being in the fresh air. I loved being surrounded by miles and miles of nothing and I loved the way that the wind would whip around my body - the sound blocking out the noise in my head. I still love that feel that comes with being out in nature, whether it be sand in between my toes or grass under my feet, or occasionally even hugging a tree! Once we were done wandering, (getting lost), we would trudge home and chill in front of the telly. For those 90's kids, you will remember the amazing Baywatch, Gladiators, Noel Edmunds.... the list goes on! Saturday night telly was seriously awesome, and whilst there was Saturday night telly, my mam would do the mam thing that I never got until now. She would bake. Scones, cakes, lemon meringue pie.. anything and everything all ready for Sunday tea. I can categorically confirm that to this date, I have never had a lemon meringue pie like my mams, and I don't think I ever will. Obvs, I do try them because you never know, but always - always - my mam's pipped them to the post. Maybe it was a secret recipe worthy of Gordon Ramsay. Maybe it was simply just made with love and that was what we tasted with every delectable and delicious bite. Whatever the reason, that will always hold the most precious of memories for me. There was also the chocolate cake. Now the chocolate cake was a slightly different and more controversial story, but hopefully, one that you will all see the humour in. You see, for years, my mum made the most incredible chocolate cake which turned out to be the most contentious and still talked about cake in my entire life! It was like soft, smooth, velvety, rich and delicious love. From the top notes of sweet fudge and milk chocolate to the deeper thrust of dark, decadent joy - this was the chocolate cake to beat all chocolate cake! We would go over for Sunday diinner just to eat this particular chocolate cake. How bad is that! The day we discovered that it was a cake mix was devastating to us all! (Insert laughing face here) It still haunts us all to this day but the reality is, it was a mix that my mum still added to and then baked, and for those of you who bake, you know how notorioulsy difficult it is to do so successfully. Everything has to be spot on. Its almost a science. If it isn't precise, it will not work and then you are left with a flat and slightly depressing puddle of something that should have been rather fabulous! The beauty of this cake is that we still talk about it and joke with my mum about the fact that the base mix wasn't made by her. We still laugh, but thats the point. Whether she made it from scratch or not actually isn't important. What matters is that we all experienced that incredible cake, and we all share those memories even now. They are unique to us as a family, and all jokes aside, that is something so incredibly special that until my mum is gone, I am not sure we will really recognise just how much so. So, food, glorious food. When you think back, how many of you sat around the dinner table as kids and watched the adults debating? How many of you enjoyed family parties where you sneaked more cake than you should or sipped a glass of leftover champagne without your parents seeing? How many of you took on the stress of creating a spread for a family gathering but took the most amazing pleasure in watching everyone come, talk and clear the table like a flock of locusts? How many of you have cooked a meal for the person you love and thrown everything into it showing how much you love them through the way that you cook? Food is love. Its a labour of love for those who are cooking, and a show of love for those who enjoy it. It is an incredible way of bringing people together and something that we all agree on as being more than just a vital part of life. When I started this, it was all about a dream - something I am used to keeping me awake. Now I am finishing, I realise that some of my best memories involve food. Not because of how it tastes but because of what it represents. It represents family. t represents love. It represents time taken to make sure that the people who are important to you are satisfied. It represents conversation and debate and time with the people who are important to you. It is a way of bringing people together and that is a beautiful thing. This christmas will be another year for many where food is the glue that brings them together, but this year, lets make it more than that. Lets make the promise that in 2025 it won't take a party to do that. It won't take a special occasion and it won't pass us by without event. Lets use the beauty of a great spread and family time as a reason to get together no matter what the time of year is. After all, tomorrow isn't promised. Yesterday is gone and right now - right now is the real present. Until next time.......

Dare we say it - the C word? Christmas is just around the corner, and unprepared is without a doubt the biggest understatement ever in the history of the season! I don't know about you all, but the Reece/Browell house are so not ready for this. From Santa to naughty elves to presents, markets and mulled wine, is the season really all its cracked up to be or has it turned into a commercial pain in the ass of epic proportions?! Thank goodness I finally got that off my chest! So, here I am. Its 2:44 in the morning and I can't sleep. Although I got the naughty elves out ready for their arrival today to monitor the behaviour in the house coming up to that word we dare not say, I can't find them. The 1st December may actually be elfless and that is just not cricket folks! Maybe its a mum thing, I can't be too sure, but what I see with the men in my life is a total chill out attitude towards Christmas. I don't know about the rest of you, but from a mum's point of view, from the moment they defrost the Christmas banshee, (AKA Mariah), the panic begins to bubble beneath the surface and this year musers, the first Crimbo song I heard on the radio was broadcast on the 7th November. (Let me say that again, just in case you missed it). 7th NOVEMBER!!! Unsurprisingly it was the banshee herself! Thank you 7yr old Lucy from Manchester for kickstarting the Christmas craziness so much earlier than was necessary! From that moment, all I have been able to think was - 'Its only just been last Christmas. Where has the year gone?" I am assured by my work wives that this is going to happen every year. One of the symptoms of getting older is time flying past way quicker than you want it to. I keep telling myself that surely there is no way that its actually been almost a full year since last Christmas. Someone has to be pulling my leg! So, when Lucy from Manchester started the defrost process, that was it. The Christmas panic started to set in. This year the vibe is very different to the last few years. For those of you have been here since day one, you all know Christmas has been difficult for the last few years. It had become a time of year that I absolutely dreaded, and as someone who absolutely loved the hustle and bustle, that was a strange reality to be faced with. I always thought as large child and small child grew up, I would be able to relax and enjoy the build up more because there wouldn't be all the things to do that you have to do to make Christmas magical when your people are little. Do you know what I found out though musers? Without those things, its actually a bit pants. You go from creating personalised Santa videos, having fun setting up christmas elves and writing magic spells for reindeer dust to just sitting with a glass of prosecco on Christmas Eve counting the minutes until bedtime. Not even Love Actually cut it last year! The thing is, what I began to realise is that I wasn't making their Christmas. In actual fact, they were making mine. It was those priceless little moments that made Christmas. I may have facilitated them, but actually, every little thing they did brought the season kicking and screaming into my December. I still remember Alex's face when he got his first Santa video. The absolute look of disbelief and excitement to see Santa talking directly to him was pure magic. I managed to get him to 11 before he completely gave up on the idea of Santa because of those videos. He didn't want to take the risk of not believing before he became too sensible for Santa! I loved creating Elf chaos around the house for them throughout December, although I have to say, our elves were the very definition of naughty. From playing poker and beer pong to lighting their farts and wrapping the toilet in wrapping paper, they made life very interesting during December. The kids always looked forward to seeing what new madness had been caused through the night! I remember the year me and Chase attempted to make a gingerbread house. Lets just say, demolition was not necessary! The gingerbread was delicious though which definitely made up for the fact that nobody could have lived in it. Out of everything though, Christmas Eve was by far my favourite. We would make special reindeer food with a mixture of glitter and oats. As I am sure you will all know, it takes a special Christmas spell to make them sparkle so that the reindeer can see it from the sky, and that spell has to be rewritten every year by an excited child on Christmas Eve. Once the reindeer dust was made, the kids would write their spell and then write Santa and Rudolph a thank you card and then it was sprinkling time. While they sprinkled they read their spell out over the dust. From there, it would be hot chocolates and we would read Twas The Night Before Christmas. That's one story that we never missed no matter what. Traditions change throughout the years, but my parents always read that to us on Christmas Eve, and I really wanted that to be part of our family traditions as well. Hopefully it may be something that they do with their own kids when they get to that point as well. If not, thats what Grandma can be for! The last thing we did before bedtime was putting out treats for Santa and Rudolph. Because the reindeers do most of the driving, Santa was allowed a small Baileys with his mince pie - just to warm him through properly. (Insert winky face here). There would be a carrot for Rudolph, and the kids would leave their thank you card with everything. And then it was bedtime, and two very excited kids would try desparately to get to sleep before Santa arrived while I desperately tried to wrap everything before it got so late that I would be left knackered the next day! (You see the running theme here of not being prepared!) So you see, for me, I always thought it was me creating the magic. The reality is, it never was. The magic came from them and their pure, innocent and incredible belief in the big man in the red suit and his magic reindeer. It came from them loving the build up. It came from visiting Fenwicks window, going to see Christmas lights and picking presents for family. It came from belly laughs caused by naughty elves and concentrating hard to make sure their spells would make the dust sparkle. It came from spending time with family. From the love, laughter and togetherness that seems to be embraced so much easier at this time of year. It came from watching Home Alone and Elf and from reading stories like The Night Before Christmas. It came from reading The Christmas Story on Christmas morning and them understanding that the season is not really about what you get, but actually about what you give and that the greatest gift you can give is yourself. It came from love, from family and from precious time that flies past faster than you can even begin to imagine. Those moments that you think will last forever disappear quicker than you can imagine, and those kids that you wished would grow up are all of a sudden way too old and all you want is to bring back the magic that you shared at Christmas. Don't worry though musers. I am not maudlin at all, contrary to how it may sound. What I am learning is that the magic doesn't go. It just adapts and changes if you let it. Christmas is the very definition of magic, and when those little people who created the magic for you are 'all growed up' and the dynamics have changed, you have to make your own magic. I promise though, its there if you look for it. Its there in the choirs singing at the shops. There is something quite beautiful about standing listening to carolers, whether its outside or inside. Its there in the sparkle of the Christmas lights around the streets, and the beautiful tree's in people's windows. If you are anything like me, its there in almost every bauble that you put on your tree. Every bauble tells a story of the last 26 years of my life with my kids. Its there in the eyes of your family, and even those kids who are all grown up will still have that Christmas twinkle in their eyes when they come to see you during December. They can't help it because they know, no matter how old they are, they will always be your little people and that means presents! Its there in the way the stars sparkle just a little bit more because the sky is so much darker. You could almost believe in magic when you look up to a sky like that. Its there in christmas films that you watch together or alone. If you want it, its there. But you have to be willing to look for it. Christmas is tough when you are on your own. There is no denying that. This time of year is a hard one for so many people and I know personally just how lonely it can feel. For those of us who aren't, it's important to remember that. If you're able to share a little bit of that Christmas magic with those people around you who may need it, it could make more of a difference then you will ever really understand. This year I will be celebrating Christmas day with the Browell and my small child who is coming for dinner. Large child spends Christmas day at home with his fiancee and the doogles. Rude. I know. But what can you do! Yes, its a very different day for me now, but actually, I am really looking forward to it. Alex is a grown man with his own life and that makes me very proud. So for me, that means me and the mister are responsible for making our own Christmas magic. It starts with a weekend away to chill at a hot tub lodge, something I couldn't have done when the kids are younger. (Hot tub yes, relax - definitely not!) From there, there are grown up Christmas parties and a grown up Christmas eve where I will still be putting out Santa's mice pie and baileys. After all, you can't be too sure! In amongst the adult stuff I wouldn't have been able to do, there will be kids stuff thrown in with Tony's 6 year old like a visit to Santa today, reindeer dust and magic spel. Maybe, if I can find them, there might even be naughty elves. This year, its definitely going to be the best of both worlds, and instead of focussing on what isn't there, I plan on making the magic with everything that is. Happy 1st December musers. I for one am rather excited to see where December goes this year! Right now though, its 4:22am and I reckon that means its finally time for some shut eye. Until next time.........

The last few years, us ladies have celebrated the dad bod in all its forms. Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing sexier than a stocky man. Don’t get me wrong, we all love to look at a chiselled body, but when someone’s arms are wrapped around you in the ninja hug to beat all ninja hugs, you want to feel safe, comforted and like you could melt into them, and that my friends is what the dad bod brings in spades! It most definitely rules! It has been talked about for years now, with several of our favourite celebrities being photographed looking less than trim but rocking the change in shape like a King. What that’s done for the dad bods in our everyday lives is let them know that actually, they don’t have to look like Thor to be a sexy little number. Average is most definitely okay! So, the question is, why as women do we still feel so pressured to have the perfect body, the most beautifully coiffed hair and clothes, and makeup that even the red carpet would be envious of? Why are we still comparing ourselves to airbrushed, photoshopped unrealistic images of the female form and crucifying ourselves when we don’t match up to those impossibly high standards of beauty? Since the dawn of time, the female form has been worshipped as something almost ethereal and divine. Artists have tried to duplicate its curves and musicians have sung about its beauty. From the exquisitely rounded renaissance bodies featuring heavily in paintings to the stunning marble statues of Ancient Greece, the female body was adored. Right up until the late 20th century, curves were an integral part of what made a woman sexy so what happened? Why did the divine feminine become androgenised and curves become a sin? Talk to most men and they will tell you that the most attractive women have a little meat on their bones and curves on their hips and booty. Extensive research has been done and has confirmed that from a purely evolutionary point of view, curves subconsciously represent fertility and an ability to carry a pregnancy to term. Although the fashion industry has spent a couple of decades now trying to cite size 0 as sexy, the worlds women are fighting back, (go feminism – you are good for some things 😉), and the men in our lives have jumped on the bandwagon, confirming that actually, they like a curvy girl! The mum bod is making headway and it's about time! We can wax lyrical about the craziness that we have seen over the last 20 or so years, but the reality is, the fashion industry has created so much more than several generations of women who are uncomfortable in their own skin. Eating disorders have doubled since the year 2000, with children as young as 8 years old being diagnosed with illnesses like anorexia. The introduction of the internet has meant that we are bombarded constantly with imagery of models with perfect hair, makeup and figures, and then in the same moment, miracle cures for weight gain are thrown at us with the empty promises of extreme weight loss. It’s a maelstrom of confusion, disorientation and distraction from what actually matters – learning to love yourself with all your imperfections and quirks because let's be honest, while you’re doubting you, the fashion and beauty industry is guaranteed to make a fortune. Just think about what would happen if every woman let the need to be perfect go and just embraced her femininity,unique beauty and all those exquisite little imperfections that make her who she is....... Don’t get me wrong, I am the first one to admit that I love getting dressed up. I love how the right lipstick and dress make me feel. I love how slipping my feet into a pair of heels makes me stand just a little bit taller and makes me feel just a little bit sexier, but it's all just stuff. It means nothing in the grand scheme of things because sexy has never been what’s on the outside. It’s always been about so much more than physical beauty. Sexy is an attitude and you cannot wear that. It doesn’t come in Gucci or Prada or Chanel. It isn’t perfume or lipstick or smoky eyes that promise nights of unbridled passion. It isn’t saying the right things or doing the right thing or being what society dictates. It’s you. You in all your quirky, peculiar and unconventional traits. It's you being who you are even though you might say something that causes people to look at you strangely. Its admitting that you were today old when you realised something, even though you might worry you will look stupid. It's you being clumsy, being nerdy, being passionate about what you care about, dancing because the music moves you, singing because it makes you happy, laughing at inappropriate moments, crying because something moves you, fighting for the things you believe in even though people may stand against you. It's you being you in all your imperfect perfection because that is what makes you truly beautiful. A size 6 waistline, no grey hair and perfect clothes and makeup isn’t what being a woman is about. Being a woman is about embracing everything that makes you who you are and owning it with a f*** you attitude! Modern feminism seems intent on destroying traditional ideas of femininity and forgetting the incredible power that women have in a desperate bid to prove that we are as good or better than our male counterparts. In that fight for equality, we seem to have lost the ability to see ourselves for those things that make us women and make us so much more than the sum of what people see every day. We have the ability to grow life inside our bodies. To protect, feed and nurture a growing child to the point where it is ready to come out into the world. This is no small feat! We are nurturing with a natural impulse to protect, love and care for those around us that we love without even thinking about it. We can be the hunter gatherers, but we still fall into the role of the nurturer when we walk through our front doors. We are the teacher, the lover, the peacemaker. We have so many facets as women, and we bring a balance that can be missing with just a masculine influence. This is not to discredit how important a masculine influence within a family dynamic is, but modern feminism seems desperate to tell women that they can do it all and ignore the incredible things that they already do. It seems desperate to imply that if you aren’t doing the things that men do, you are something less than a woman. Women truly are incredible. They were before we were told that we had to be better than men and we will continue to be when we finally realise that we have nothing to prove! I am the epitome of the mum bod. I have stretch marks from carrying two children and giving birth. Despite regularly attending the gym, I can’t get rid of my belly completely. I have freckles and imperfections and on occasion, I can pinch an inch. My skin can be spotty, my feet are like a hobbit, (not hairy – just dry), I occasionally forget to shave my legs, but I am me. I am this imperfect creature that laughs too much, drinks too much, gets passionate about what I believe in and loves my kids fiercely despite the fact they drive me bonkers at times! I have learned not only to accept my mum bod, but to love it! My mum bod carried four kids, two that sadly didn’t make it but are remembered with great love, and two who have enriched my life in more ways than I can even begin to express. My mum bod has given me the physical strength to support my kids in my choice of work, the mental strength to support them through all the difficult times they have experienced, and the emotional strength to support myself through many difficult times. My mum bod has harboured me through some incredibly hard times and celebrated some incredibly amazing moments with me. My mum bod has been my saving grace in so many ways and its only now, at 46 years old that I am beginning to understand just how much it has actually done for me. Here’s to the mum bod and everything it represents. I see your dad bod and I raise you the mum bod in all its beautiful, curvy imperfect glory! Until next time....... #bodypositive #engagewarriormode #fitmum #mumtum #mumsofinstagram #postpartumbody #selflove #bodypositivity #mumbod #mumbod #postpartum #strongnotskinny #loveyourbody #loveyourself #love #selfcare #motivation #beauty #effyourbeautystandards #loveyourcurves #beautiful #health #body #curvy #plussizefashion #curvygirl #instagood #positivevibes #wellness #mentalhealth #confidence

Exhibit 1: No animals were harmed in the taking of this picture! You may be wondering - what the hell Rebecca - but trust me when I tell you, there is method in the madness and it all starts in the old grey matter. This picture was taken by the lovely Mr, although had I known he took it, I may not be using that word to describe him! I am guessing there may have been a night or an afternoon out involved which definitely means alcohol, and as he can attest to, if I am warm and comfy, I will crash anywhere. Trust me when I tell you, it is a skill sought by many but mastered by only a few. I am indeed one of those Masters. The training was long and there were times I did not expect to ever see success, but now I have the uncanny ability to fall asleep wherever I am. On numerous occasions this has been midway through a conversation although I do believe, the crowning moment was the night I fell asleep in the pub with my head against the speaker while the DJ was playing. That was good, even by my standards! Anyhoo, I digress... I have spent a lot of my life very insecure with who I was. A lot of that insecurity stemmed from a need for perfection in everything that I did and although I understand that I am imperfectly perfect, (who wants perfection anyway!), it has taken a long time to realise that actually, my only competition should only have ever been myself. This year I turned 47. I know, how do I still manage to look so fabulous you ask! (Insert winky face here!). Its a trade secret but seeing as you have taken the time to read my utter rantings, I shall let you in to the secret. I don't drink anywhere near enough water. As shown in exhibit 1 - I rarely take my makeup off before bed, especially when I am a tad tiddly. I drink about 12 cups of coffee a day so my brain is constantly wired. When its not coffee, its wine or Monster. I have a penchant for the occasional bag of tangfastics and I can absolutely eat a whole tub of ice cream in one sitting! In reality, I do everything I shouldn't do and there was a time that the photo above would have never seen the light of day. Had I been able to, just a couple of years ago it would have been deleted, never to be seen again! I suppose the big question is whats changed? How do I manage to wake up so super sexy, even when I don't?! I have always been quite open about previous relationships on the blog and the abuse that became a normal part of everyday life for nearly 7 years. It hit the point somewhere in the middle of it where it just 'was', and there was never any question as to the validity of what I was being told when his good mood turned to bad. From being called a pathetic cunt and a clown of a woman to being blamed for him being an alcoholic, the abuse had a massive impact on already massively low confidence levels. It destroyed who I was to the point where I no longer recognised myself, my life and the choices I was making. I questioned absolutely everything, I couldn't think straight most of the time and I lived in a state of almost constant high alert because I never knew what to expect when I came home from wherever I had been. The panic and anxiety was palpable and insidious - seeping into every second of my life, both sleeping and awake. I remember looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger staring back at me. My opinions were his beecause it was safer than disagreeing. My body was used when he wanted to because it was easier than saying no. Until you have been in that situation, its almost impossible to understand . Maybe it was karma teaching me a lesson. I was very vocal about the fact that if people being abused wanted to leave, they could. I didn't accept that it was never as simple as that until I had no choice because I was living it day in and day out. It becomes your normal to the point that the thought of living outside of it is scary because at least with this, you know what to expect. When someone destroys you so completely, building up enough courage to walk away is almost impossible. The good news is I got out! Obvs..... One day, maybe I will tell my story in the hope that it might help someone else to get out before they lose as much time as I did, but that's not what this is all about. I was more lost than I could have ever imagined when things ended. I didn't know how to navigate life. I didn't know how to be happy and I was so incapable of controlling the constant panic of bumping into him, that on the one occasion I did, I went to a party, drank a whole bottle of gin and ended up spending the night throwing up. I woke up the next morning in a bedroom with unicorns on the walls and absolutely no idea where I was. My hair, (bob length hair musers), had two bobbles in the top which had been put in by my best friends daughter Amy-Leigh to keep my hair out of my face while I was vomiting. I think that might have been rock bottom for me. I thought I was coping, but I clearly wasn't. Just seeing him had sent my anxiety levels soaring to the point that a 14 year old girl was helping her mum hold my hair back. To say I felt shame was an understatement, but it was choice time. I either continued to fall, or I picked myself up and demanded better not just for myself, but for my children and my family and my friends who had stood by me through everything. This turned into a trip away to the Lakes, hiking up to the top of a large hill and screaming into the abyss until all the anger and pain was gone. I cried, I screamed, I wrote and then I lay in the grass and soaked up the warmth of the sun and listened to the birds singing. The universe was watching out for me because not one person was around for the hour I was up there. It wasn't until I started back down that I began to pass people. It saved my life. My children had saved it before on more than one occasion, but now it was my turn to step up and take it back. I also got to meet my little naked man but that is a story for another day! Anyway, to say I arrived home a whole new person would be a lie, but what I did arrive home with was an acceptance of what had happened, and the fact that I couln't change it. I could only learn from it. I came home with an understanding of just how precious my life was and that I needed to focus on being happy and that happiness had to come from within me. That weekend, I forgave everything that had been done to me but I didn't do it for him. I did it for me because cradling everything inside me was like slowly sipping poison. It was destroying me and meant that even without him there, he was still controlling every aspect of my life. I left him on that hill top. To this day he remains there in amongst the whisper of the wind through the grass and the beautiful wild flowers. Where am I going with this you ask? Coming home from that weekend became a new start for me. A change in attitude, a chance to start again and really get to know me, and a chance to rebuild a life that was bigger, better and a life I would want to live. The last few years have been exactly that. I focussed on me for a while. I began to learn what I needed, who I was and what I wanted. Becoming unaplogetically me gave me the confidence to start pursuing things that I wanted to do. I started to write, although it took some very special people to give me a kick to make it formal! Before that it was just for me. Maybe that would have been better but I am afraid you are stuck with me now. Sorry, not sorry!! I began to remove the people from my life that were not enriching it and instead were draining my energy and I filled my time with things I enjoyed. I stopped doing the things I no longer had a love for. I started to wear what I wanted. I had my hair cut and dyed red - something I was never allowed to do because he did not like short hair. I dug deep and fought hard to begin to love myself again because if I wasn't able to do that then I was no good for the people around me that I loved and who needed me. Throughout this, and still today, my support network stood strong and helped where it was needed. They were there when I couldn't see how to move forward and stepped away when I needed space. Yes, this was, and still can be a lonely journey at times, but I couldn't have done it without them. So, we come full circle to today and that bloody lovely picture! That picture appeared on my facebook timeline on my birthday along with several other pictures with a really lovely birthday message from the Mr. Just a couple of years ago, it would have left me completely mortified, but now, everything is different. Now, I see someone totally different when I look in the mirror. Now I see someone who deserves the world, (but also understands you have work for it!). Now I see someone who knows how to be completely content and happy on her own. Instead of looking to someone else for her happiness, she is already happy. Now I see someone who understands her value, who demands better not just from others but from herself, and who is excited about all the amazing possibilities that the future brings. Now I have someone in my life who looks at me and even in a grey oodie with my face squished on a cushion and my makeup all over, he see's someone beautiful. Don't get me wrong - there are still bad days. The anxiety is always there waiting to pull me down but I am strong enough to stop it now. For the first time in maybe forever, I learned to love me because I am actually pretty bloody fabulous! Seeing that picture on facebook for the world to see stopped me in my tracks because suddenly it dawned on me that I don't sweat this stuff anymore. I am over that part of my life and I love me enough to laugh at the warts and all rather than hide away. Its a journey that takes a lifetime and you will always be learning and growing, but to heal and become who you are destined to be means you have to hurt. Just like they say on the Neverending Story, (you 80's kids will know this one).... Never a truer word spoken. If you can face it head on and push through it, I promise you that the other side is the most amazing place to be and the possibilities are endless! Pick your mantra. Say it every morning at least three times. I promise, things will change. You just have to let the universe weave its magic and have faith that if you put the hard work in, you will grow in the way that you were supposed to. Until next time...............

One of the latest articles for the day job. You know what its all about ladies!!!! While I sit here writing this, I have a smile on my face. Although menopause is absolutely no joke and can be extremely difficult to navigate, we also have to laugh because as women of a certain age, if we didn’t, we would cry and probably not stop! Normedica headquarters is primarily middle aged women and as a result, we regularly ‘beat our breasts and wail’ about this new change of life and the craziness it brings. From brain fog to mood swings, hot flushes, night sweats, bloating, weight gain, thinning hair, frequent UTI’s and vaginal dryness, the symptoms are endless. Sorry fellas! In fact the only blessing that comes with menopause is the ending of your period. Its a period of life that can be extremely challenging, and unfortunately it isn’t over in a flash, (or should that be a hot flash). Whilst there is a lot more dialogue around this now and our understanding of how debilitating it can be is changing, we have a long way to go before we really fully comprehend the intricate nuances of these changes and how they can be navigated in a way that allows women to keep their lives as normal as possible despite the craziness that it brings. Today, on menopause awareness day we wanted to spend a little bit of time exploring menopause, what it really means and what we can do to try and make the transition just a little easier. So, the bit we all love – the science! Make a cuppa and get comfortable….. Menopause is the time in a woman’s life that marks the beginning of the end of her ability to reproduce naturally. From the beginning of puberty, the female body produces a mixture of hormones known as oestrogen and progesterone. As the main sex hormones, they are instrumental not only in sexuality and fertility but also in puberty, menstruation, sex drive and pregnancy. Developing in the ovaries, oestrogen levels can vary throughout the month dependant on where in your cycle you are, but as long as everything is running the way it should, this allows your body to produce and release eggs – and if the timing is just right – make babies! As we age, our bodies begin to slow down. For those of you in this age bracket, male or female, you are probably already aware of that devastating reality! We creak as we get up, we discover aches in places we didn’t know existed, and the thought of a night out just makes us want to sob into our sherry while we wait for our purple rinse to take! We laugh about it, but from social to physical to emotional, the day to day impact on your quality of life, personal and work relationships can be huge if menopause symptoms are not diagnosed and treated correctly. The process itself begins with perimenopause, usually starting between the ages of 45 and 55. As oestrogen production begins to slow and our store of eggs begins to dwindle, our periods begin to disappear and most women start to experience menopause-like symptoms. As soon as your periods have officially stopped for 12 months, you are considered to have fully entered menopause. This is an important transition in every woman’s life and one that should be talked about a lot more than it is. As previously mentioned, we joke about it a lot in the office, but actually, it is a difficult one to understand and navigate when you don’t fully understand what’s happening to your body. For many years, menopause has been referred to almost as an illness, and although it can be a difficult transition, the reality is that there are ways of helping the process run a little smoother. From self care to medication, its a case of finding what works for you to ease the change. Below are just a few of the current recommendations to help ease you into this new way of life. HRT – Replace those hormones baby! Available in a variety of different forms, HRT is prescribed through your GP and has been found to help with a variety of different symptoms related to menopause. Although long term use has been related to a slightly elevated risk of heart disease and breast cancer, when used in low doses from the onset of menopause, it has been proven to help reduce symptoms and slow down bone loss which can lead to osteoporosis or brittle bone disease. Prasterone One of the most common menopause symptoms are issues when it comes to sex. The reduction in hormones reduces the amount of natural lubricant that the body produces which can make intimate activity uncomfortable. There are several different hormone based tablets and creams that can help with this, some of which can also help with urinary issues that can run alongside menopause. Low Dose Antidepressants As a sufferer of perimenopause, one of the most unsettling symptoms I have experienced has been mood swings, although the hot flushes are definitely a close second! Mood can change at the flick of a switch and vary from complete and utter despair to black rage that would destroy a nation – and that is putting it mildly. This is a very common symptom and can be emotionally exhausting for the sufferer, incredibly confusing for their family and a complete disaster when it takes over in all walks of life. Whilst there are plenty of natural ways of learning to control these, (we will talk about those shortly), there are also low dose SSRI tablets that are specifically used to help control mood. Although they are generally used in people who are suffering with low mood, they can be particularly effective for creating a balance in women who are struggling with mood as a result of menopause. Even better, they can help with hot flashes too. You gotta love a double whammy! Brittle Bones Osteoporosis is a condition that affects the strength of your bones. As a living, growing organism, your bones are constantly re-growing and adapting to daily life, but because of the drop in hormones as you hit menopause, the bone loss works faster than the repairs can be made. This can result in bone density potentially dropping by as much as 20% in the first five years of menopause. The drop in density can make the bones much more vulnerable to breaking with even just the smallest of trips or falls. This can be treated in several different ways but there are currently medications on the market that help with this. Although this isn’t a prerequisite for everyone going through menopause, its really important that the correct testing is done early on to establish if this is something that needs to be treated. As with everything else, prevention is better than cure, and whilst you may not be able to stop it in its tracks, minimising the damage is crucial to a healthy, pain free life. Before deciding on any form of chemical based treatments, it is really important to sit down with your GP and discuss all the options. That way you can ensure that what is recommended will help with the symptoms you are experiencing. For those of you who want to try and wing it the natural way, there are lots of things you can do and I cannot stress this enough – START THEM EARLY!!! You don’t need to be menopausal for preventative measures to be started. The earlier you start – the easier your body should cope with the transition. Self Care, Self Care, Self Care! We cannot stress this one enough. Self care looks different for everyone but whatever you do to help you relax is imperative to your ability to cope with what is thrown at you every day. The world has become a fast and busy place and it can be hard to find a space to just sit and be, but when you are battling a drop in hormones and a rise in emotional outbursts, learning how to just stop and breathe is massive. Getting out in nature, having a bubble bath, reading a book or just sitting and watching your guilty pleasure on the telly uninterrupted with a cuppa can be all you need. Its whatever works for you. Make sure that you are taking time out for you and that everyone around you knows that you aren’t to be disturbed. Learning to meditate and focus on breathing is another way of keeping mood swings and emotional outbursts controlled. Sometimes just stopping, shutting your eyes and slowly breathing in and out for a minute or two can be enough to stop a rage in its tracks, give you back the control and stop you from saying something you might have regretted. Eat Right and Exercise – its a no brainer As with everything else we talk about in the Health Hub, eating the right foods and making sure you exercise have a direct impact not only on your physical health but on your emotional health as well. Nobody is saying you can’t have that bar of chocolate or that glass of wine, but balance it with healthy foods and regular exercise. Exercise doesn’t have to cost anything. It can be something as simple as going for a brisk walk or doing the couch to 5k. There is an abundance of exercise videos on Youtube so there are no excuses when it comes to keeping fit. Studies show that carrying too much extra weight can not only make the hot flashes worse, but it will also put extra pressure on your joints which can put you at risk of a myriad of other medical conditions. Adding Vitamin D and Calcium supplements to your daily intake and regular exercise will also help massively with bone strength and hopefully reduce the risks associated with osteoporosis. Start Counting Sheep We all know the importance of a good nights sleep and how much of an impact tiredness can have on your overall day, but getting the right amount of sleep can also help massively with menopause symptoms. Although the amount of sleep needed tends to drop as you get older, making sure that the quality is right is imperative. Start your night right. No caffeine or alcohol too late and give yourself some tech free time before you hit the hay. Research suggests that sitting on your phone or watching telly before bed will actually disturb your sleep, so time out with a good book is highly recommended to help you wind down. Get Jiggy With It! Sex is not only a way of boosting mood but from a physical point of view, it helps massively with the dryness and discomfort that comes alongside menopause. Staying sexually active, whether with someone or on your own, will help to ease discomfort by increasing blood flow to the vagina. If you need a little help, there is a huge market of lubricants now available which can be purchased without a prescription. Keeping the old slap and tickle going has so many other health benefits as well so we highly recommend it! Kegel Like There is no Tomorrow! Getting older brings with it it’s own problem, least of all urinary issues. Things like UTI’s are incredibly common during menopause but what you may not be aware of is a large number of women suffer a degree of urinary incontinence. Although this is very common, its a problem that nobody likes to talk about out loud. Even the idea of it can be very embarrassing. During pregnancy, women are encouraged to do pelvic floor exercises but they aren’t really talked about much at any other time. In reality, a good set of Kegels can be the difference between being able to hold out as you get older and not. It costs nothing, nobody even needs to know you are doing them, and they make a huge difference to your pelvic floor. Embrace Your Inner Boho Chick The only way that we can describe the phenomenon of the hot flash is that it feels like your body is this……. Between the heat, the thudding heartbeat and the rapids thundering past your eardrums drowning out all logical sound, you might be inclined to assume that there is nothing to be done. You would be right. There are ways of calming them but not of stopping them completely. Sorry about that! The good news is though, with a little more thought to your wardrobe, you can reduce the discomfort somewhat. Fabrics that breathe, layers that can be removed and sleeveless tops all help. Keep room temperatures down, especially the bedroom, and if you really suffer, cool packs under your pillow will help to keep it colder. You just need to remember to turn the pillow regularly so you have the cool side up. All joking aside, menopause is something that comes to all of us, even you men but just in a slightly different form! Nobody is exempt from the changes that occur as we age and hormones begin to drop. Its not the most fun in the world but do you know what – its another part of your journey and a new way of seeing and navigating the world whilst learning about who you are becoming. How you navigate it is up to you. It can be a blessing or a curse, but whichever it is, putting steps in place to help the experience will hopefully make it a much easier one. After all, its coming for you whether you like it or not! If you want to check out some of the other articles written for the day job - check out the health hub on the link below. https://normedica.co.uk/knowledge-centre-blog-health-hub/

I have avoided sitting down to write this particular blog for a few days now because unlike the usual lighthearted fun and general ease of the topics I cover, this one cuts deep - not just for me but for so many other families around the world. Although the group of people I keep close is small, I am hard pushed to name anyone who hasn't experienced the loss of a child whether it be a stillbirth, an infant death, a miscarriage or discovering that they are unable to conceive. The figures are staggering. 1 in 4 pregnancies end in loss 1 in 160 babies are born still 24,000 infants die every single year I am the mother to two angels who got their wings way before I was ready for them to go and even to this day, it is still the hardest reality I have ever had to face. With no warning and no reason to help you understand, losing a child you felt growing inside you is devastating, and whilst I hope that things have changed, when it happened to me, there was no support or understanding in place to help me through it. My first child was an early miscarriage. Had it happened just a few days earlier, I would have probably put it down to a super heavy period, overdosed on paracetamol and eaten way too much chocolate for a few days. We had been trying for a little while so when I took the test and it came back positive, we were thrilled. Within days though, that excitement turned to devastation as I started spotting, and 24 hours later, our first baby was gone. The thing that always stayed with me and still haunts me to this day is the term that was used at the time on my paperwork at the hospital. 'Spontaneous abortion'. That word on there, associated with choosing to no longer be pregnant was like being punched in the stomach. We hadn't even had time to begin to enjoy the fact that we were pregnant before things went wrong, and reading that word made me more angry than I could ever have imagined because this had not been my choice. That had been taken away from me. Even now, it still sits on my NHS notes and when I occasionally see it there, it cuts deep - not just because of the loss but because of what that word represents and because the Dr really didn't care that at that moment, while she was examining me, my hopes and dreams were dying inside me. You see, and this is the kicker, a baby is not just that one moment in time. This little life blows in during a moment of passion - planned or unplanned isn't really all that important in the grand scheme of things - and with that new life comes an unbelievable array of possibility. That little life represents a lifetime of living. Of learning and growing every single day. Its a collection of stories and experiences that shape the person that they would have become. Within that tiny little body lies such possibility and potential and the opportunity to be so much more than you could ever imagine for them. Its relationships, friendships, grandchildren, great grandchildren, family, love, loss, laughter, tears and everything else that living brings. When you lose a child, you haven't just lost a child. You have lost a lifetime of everything that comes with that little life, and trying to even begin to comprehend that is unimaginable. My second loss was a year later and much further on. The first 12 weeks was terrifying because the chances of losing a child are so much higher during that period of time. Getting past that was like being granted a stay of execution. Every twinge, every cramp, every moment of discomfort sent me spiralling with the fear that we were going to lose this one and I would have to figure out how to move forward again. I celebrated the 12 week mark because we felt that meant things were going to be okay. I began to feel little movements at around 16 weeks, like the gentle flutter of butterfly wings against my skin. My body was changing every single day and as my bump began to grow, I started to get more and more excited. We started planning and looking at things that we needed for the new arrival, and in amongst the exhilaration, we never even considered the possibility that things weren't going to end well. At 21 weeks, I was back in hospital again with another little life leaving my body, and there was absolutely nothing that anyone could do. He had a name - Benjamin Daniel - and yet even with that, my body was failing me again. The loss of Ben resulted in a stay over at the hospital as I had to have a scrape the following day to - in their words - 'make sure everything was gone from my womb.' They put me on the maternity ward to sleep with new mothers holding their newborn babies in their arms. I spent the night I lost my son listening to babies cry and mothers cooing over them. It was without a doubt the most cruel thing that anyone could have done, and yet as it turned out, this was normal practice around the UK in every single NHS hospital. I can honestly say that I don't think I have ever experienced loneliness and pain like I did that night hiding behind a curtain in that ward of women who absolutely had every right to be euphorically happy. The following day I had my scrape and headed home with no idea how I was going to move forward. You see, at that time, there was nothing in place for parents who had lost their babies. There was no grave to go to or service to attend. There wasn't even a certificate to recognise that you had carried your child because as far as the hospital were concerned - this was a spontaneous abortion and didn't require records other than on your own medical paperwork. How do you even begin to grieve for a child who never even existed in everyone else's eyes? Someone for whom there is no record of having ever been alive. Someone that you were already connected and bonded to but who had never even taken a breath? When you lose a child, you never 'get over it'. You are fundamentally changed and whilst you adapt to this new reality, you never forget that little life that almost was. For me, its bringing those memories in at key times. At Christmas, every since I lost them, the first two baubles that go onto the tree are the baubles bought specifically to remember them. They cannot be here but they can still be part of our celebrations because they will always be part of my family. Their legacy lives on through me and the little things I do to keep them alive. As part of pregnancy loss and awareness month, there is also a wave of light on the 15th October. For those of you who have lost a young life or just want to support someone that you know who has, we light a candle to remember and honour those little lives. It gives you a chance to slow down and stop, to reflect, to remember and to feel the loss for just a few moments of what is an otherwise busy life. As with every other year, I will be lighting my candles again on the 15th and just stopping for a little while to reflect on the two lives that were lost. I will be lighting it at 7pm and for anyone who would like to join me for just a few moments, it will be on the facebook page. Lets create a wave of light to honour those babies that will never be forgotten. I also came across something the other day that may be of interest to any of you who have experienced this. In an attempt to begin to recognise that impact that losing a baby has on families, you are now able to request a certificate that recognises their existence. (UK only). Mine are on order but for anyone else who may want to have something, I have popped the link below for you. https://www.gov.uk/request-baby-loss-certificate You never forget the loss of a baby, no matter how little time they were growing inside you, but what you do with that loss will define how you manage moving forward. Its finding a way to honour that life within your own home and remembering that even though you may never have met them, they will always be a part of you. Until next time..............

So this past couple of weeks I celebrated not one, but two birthdays. If you count him indoors its actually three which is a little bit exciting, but because the very first one has nothing to do with me other than buying pressies, we are totes gonna ignore that one! Kidding! Happy birthday to The Browell! 47 years young - here's to the next 47 you gorgeous creature! Now, onto the other two because thats really what I wanted to wax lyrical about today! The first one was the 26th September and it was the first birthday of the musings! For those of you on the facebook page, you will have seen the video I am sure. For those of you who aren't, shameful! One day I will get round to putting all the vlogs on here, or maybe I will cheat and start a youtube page. For now though you are going to have to make a cuppa, get a couple of choccy biscuits, get comfy and READ ALL ABOUT IT!!! When I first started the blog a whole 365 days ago, I had no idea what I was doing. For months I had dabbled with writing, something I had always really enjoyed, and the people who knew me well were very good at being subtle about the fact that they thought I was wasting a talent. It all came to a head on a catch up with my friend Jen, thanks Miss Hedley! It was midweek, I had met her after work in Newcastle City Centre and we had decided to just have the one glass of wine before heading our separate ways. One glass turned into three bottles, nibbles and several stories about my then dating life that I am sure will all be revealed at some point, but our quiet night became her kicking my ass once again about not writing. She wasn't the first, and for what its worth, I continue to get my ass kicked for not doing it for an income but for some reason, although everyone else had said the same things, that night it hit home. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the stories I was sharing with her that changed everything. Maybe it was just the sudden realisation that I could totally do this and have fun with it. Who knows, but that night, after that conversation, Musings of a 40 Something was born and I have never looked back. As someone who has a lot of life experiences to share and hopefully some wisdom that might help someone else avoid the mistakes I made, it began as almost a therapy session. I have never been afraid to talk about the mental health issues that I have struggled with for years. Since being a teenager, I have struggled with bouts of depression, panic and anxiety. There have been certain points through my life that the situation I was in really impacted heavily and made those so much worse, and whilst I would never suggest talking therapies etc don't work, for me they never made a difference in my life. What I discovered though was that the moment I started writing, all that changed. It became an outlet that allowed me to vent, chat, laugh, cry and share. It gave me a release I needed to begin to work through things that I had never considered I could because nothing had worked prior to that. For that I have to thank you all. I never thought this would be anything. I thought I would be lost in the maelstrom of internet blogs and madness. If I am honest, when it first started, that didn't bother me. The minute I realised how powerful speaking out loud was for me was the moment I realised I could work through so much of what has gone on. What I hadn't anticipated was the response and that means more than you will ever know. Yes, I am still building the following. We haven't quite reached cult status yet, probably not a bad thing, but I couldn't have got here without you all and for that I cannot thank you enough. To the ladies who encouraged me to get started in the first place, thank you so much. When I tell you that you saved me, I am not exaggerating. Every single one of you have done nothing but support me and without you, this would have never happened. This blog is dedicated to you and your continuous annoyance at my lack of drive for doing this! Thank you for never giving up on me! Rebecca, Louise, Jen and Jo - you are my muses! Of course, there was another birthday very quickly arrived after the musers birthday. That one musers is one I am still debating on whether I want to celebrate or forget! On the 2nd October I turned 47. (Say it quickly and its not so bad!) I am still trying to decide how I feel about this if I am completely honest. Its a little scary to think I am coming close to half a century! When I tell you that turning 40 changed my life, I am not joking. So far, without a doubt, the absolute best decade of my life! My 40's have changed me into everything I ever wanted and I am still becoming me. Part of that comes from seeing what I didn't want to be in my 40's, and for all those who showed me what it could be if you didn't focus on figuring out what you wanted, thank you. It showed me that I wanted so much more than settling. For those this rings true to, I hope you all understand that you are worth so much more than what you have settled for. For those of you who have showed me what life could be if you focus on the right things, thank you. I didn't ever think life could be this incredible as an adult. I didn't believe that I would ever be able to be me because I had to be the me that everyone else thought I should be. Thank you for showing me that being true to yourself and learning that being happy in your own company is the most freeing thing in the world. My 40's have been a discovery and continue to be. Sometimes I wish that I had figured all of this out sooner but I am not sure I was ready for it. I am a firm believer that the universe presents you with what you are ready for when you are ready for it, and my 40's were the time I became open to all the possibility that the world can throw at you. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about hitting half a century. Granted its still three years away and life most certainly doesn't stop at that point, but if you were to ask me how old I feel, I have been 23 for 24 years now! 50 is kinda scary! For now, I am going to continue to enjoy my 40's. I am going to continue to embrace all the new experiences it throws at me. So may firsts have happened in the last 7 years and that is going to continue. Its an unbelievably exciting time! Thank you for all your support over the last 12 months. You have been incredible and I couldn't have done it without you! This is a celebration for you all. There are so many more tales to be told, so many more experiences to be shared and for those of you who are sticking around, I am now writing a book. You have been my inspiration and continue to be, and I love you all! Happy 1st birthday musers and here's to so many more birthdays. Until next time.........

So, in August I got to go swimming with seals off one of the most beautiful coastlines in the UK, and even though it left me ill because I ignored my body and stayed in longer than I should have, I would do it all again in a heart beat and here is why.... For years I wanted to work as a marine biologist but I had one teensy little issue. Having sat and watched Jaws, I couldn't think of anything more terrifying than the deep blue sea, but at the same time I was utterly enamoured with everything that it represented. There is a haunting, never-ending flow to its vast and immeasurable landscape that slips its way into your soul and embraces your heart. The gentle lull of the waves is hypnotising, and calms even the worst of moods, bringing you into the moment and reminding you that the past is gone and tomorrow hasn't been written yet. It encourages you to just stop. To breathe. To live for that moment and allow yourself to exxperience it with every one of your senses. Anyhoo, one of my very favourite people in the world sent me a very excited message about an arranged snorkelling session just off the Farne Islands. Wor Katie has been at me for ages to come with her so when I got the message I jumped at the chance. Onto the internet I went to buy a wetsuit to go with my snorkelling gear and within minutes, I was sorted. (In case you are wondering, Mountain Warehouse in the sale. Bargain! Thank you Mountain Warehouse.) As the day began, I found myself wondering how it would go. What will I do if I can't see more than a foot below me in the water and there is a great white lurking beneath the waves? What if I jump in and forget how to swim, and most importantly - what does one wear under a wetsuit? All very relevant concerns of course and as it turned out, completely unnecessary. (For reference, generally a swimming costume or bikini is the answer to the last question, although I actually just wore a pair of tankini shorts because I am no longer 20 and a sports bra type thing.) If you haven't worn one a wet suit before, trust me when I tell you - not only are they snug but they are rather warm. The less you can get away with, the better! We headed down in the car to Seahouses all suited and booted in our wetsuits. Again, for those who may be considering this but haven't worn one before - travel in the suit or have it on before you get onto the boat. Its a mission and a half to put them on and honestly, I think I would have given up on the whole thing if I wasn't already wearing it. Also, getting out of the car with a wetsuit already on is kind of cool and jsut a little bit hip. I immediately went from the weird, slightly kooky, hippy dippy witchy girl to the chick wearing her wetsuit tied around her waist with a swimming bra on and all her tats out. (Thats T-A-T-S for tattoos. Not tits - just in case you were wondering ;) ) It was a stunning afternoon, warm, bright and full of blue skies. Gotta be honest, we were both a little excited. Although she has done loads of these types of dives, this was my very first open water snorkelling session. In fact, when I think about, she also was the one to break me in for the cold water swimming on Blyth beach on a rainy, absolutely freezing night in March last year. Believe me when I tell you, the name of the group Blyth Bluetits is very apt! Katie has been the one who has gently nudged me into shark infested waters several times over, and I have loved every minute of it! (I know it seems dramatic but you never know, and I did have a bloody cut on my finger from earlier that day) The trip out on the boat was glorious. There was enough of a breeze to take the edge off the heat but not so much that you were left cold. The sunlight was glistening off the waves and dancing along the gentle crests as they ebbed and flowed. Having never really suffered from any kind of seasickness unless I am on a huge cruise type ship, the journey was absoutely magic . It took maybe 25 minutes or so to get to where we were going, but the closer we got, the more apprehensive I began to feel. You see, I am a bit of a scaredy cat sometimes. It never stops me doing anything but once I start thinking, I tend to overthink, and by the time I am ready to do whatever the activity is, there are about 20 different scenarios running through my head. Unfortunately most of them end in a brutal, tortuous death - usually mine! This particular scenario related to the fact that the night before I had managed to slice my finger whilst opening a tin, and it was still bleeding. Of course, in my mind, that meant that the minute I got into the water, the scent of blood would attract one of the many maneating sharks that live on the other side of the planet, and during the 40 minutes or so that I spent in the water, it would make its way to the Farne islands, completely ignoring the icy cold because I was there and ready for eating! That folks.... that is why I write. Super over active imagination! It helps to keep me sane. I would like to say sensible but I suspect there are a large number of people who may disagree with that! Anyway, part of that stupendously crazy thought process came from an expectation of not being able to see more than a foot or so below the water, therfore there would be no warning when the shark swam up from the depths of the murky waters to crush me in its jaws. Imagine my disbelief however when we got there and this was what I saw... (Just in case you're wondering, that first photo was unexpected and incredibly lucky. Seeing the red flippered Katie fish is extremely rare in the wild!) Unless you have done it, its really hard to put into words, even for someone like me. From the moment you put your head under the water and start to swim, the outside world seems to disappear and you become part of this quiet, majestic, underwater kingdom full of life. The geenery is reminiscent of a forest with soft grass covering the ground and tall trees moving slowly back and forth as if a gentle breeze is blowing softly through their branches. The colours are incredible - vibrant and dynamic, the range of green alone breathtaking. From the gentle sandy white on the sea floor to the unexpected violet streaks dancing across the luminous skin of the jellyfish, its a stunning environment to be in and akin to entering a completely new world. The quiet is all encompassing, comforting and soothing, leaving you with the overwhelming feeling that you are the only person quietly traversing the alien landscape. The strange thing about it is that doesn't feel frightening. The tranquility removes the fear and leaves you feeling as if you could float around in the world forever. Of course, for those of you familiar with the North Sea, you will fully understand why this would not be possible. Cold doesn't really cover it and whilst the mind was willing - the flesh was weak. As the pins and needles began to kick in in my outer extremities, it was definitely time to head back to the boat, dry clothes and the hope of some warmth. What finished it for me was that on the way back to the boat, the seal's who had kept their distance decided to make an appearance. We had seen them in and out of the water from a distance but to see them up close was just magical. On top of that, we then also got treated to the most stunning sunset as we sailed back to harbour. What a day musers! I can wax lyrical about this all day but until you experience it yourselves, this is something you just cannot truly put into words. To be in the water, sharing the seals environment and experiencing the beauty and serenity of the sea is an almost spiritual experience. We are incredibly lucky in the North East as we are home to one of the largest Grey Seal colonies in the UK. Its become a protected area, and every year during the Autumn, around 3000 pups are born. Thats 40% of the worlds Grey Seal population being born in the UK, so these colonies are incredibly important to the ongoing survival of this beautiful species. (Photos were curteousy of the group we went with) If you get the chance, book an excursion. I cannot recommend it enough. It gives you a whole new respect and understanding not only of the beauty of the sea, but its importance to the species that share it, humanity included. The details for who we booked through are at the end of the blog and they were absolutely brilliant. If you do nothing else over the next 12 months - do this. It will change you. I guarantee you. Until next time........ https://www.farne-islands.com/#:~:text=Discover%20the%20beauty%20of%20the%20Farne%20Islands,and%20stunning%20scenery.%20Book%20your%20adventure%20today !

Yes, I know the quote is wrong but that's very much intentional! Its the first warm day in a few days in Newcastle, and during what has felt like the longest week ever, (and I have no doubt will become the shortest weekend ever), I was walking into work and over my headphones came one of my favourite pieces of music. Now, before I tell you what that is, let me tell you, my tastes in music are quite diverse. My parents - like most parents in the 80's had a record player, so we listened to a lot of vinyl. If it was mum's choice, it would be the Osmond's, Tom Jones, Julio Iglesias.... all the crooners that knew how to shake their hips, insert some sexiness into a song and make a 30+ mum of four throw their knickers at the stage! Just a heads up though, the mother-ship never did that. Phew! If it was dad, it could be acoustic guitar, John Denver, John Williams movie themes or classical. I think this is where my love of classical stemmed from. Not only was it there just to listen to but he used it occasionally to wake the entire house up on a morning. Every time I hear Flight of the Valkyries by Wagner it makes me smile! Although it meant no lie in, there are so many amazing memories attached to it that now, being woken up by it has become completely forgivable. The piece of music itself is only just over 5 minutes long, but not only did it signal that it was time to get up, it usually meant that there was a cooked breakfast on the go. My mum and dad had a huge flat plate and breakfast was always cooked on it. It could be american style pancakes or a full English but there was something simply magical about coming downstairs to the smell of breakfast cooking and Flight of the Valkyries playing on the record player. We also learnt very quickly that if we didn't get up, there was a strong possibility we would have a glass of cold water thrown over us and nobody wants that when you are cosy and warm in bed! So anyway, back to last week... As I said, I was walking into work and over the headphones came one of my favourite pieces of music and something I don't hear often. It was Adagio for Strings - Opus 11 by Samuel Barber and it is quite simply one of the most exquisitely beautiful and breathtaking pieces of music I have ever heard. If you haven't heard it, find somewhere quiet, close your eyes and just let the music wash over you. I promise you, you won't regret it. It aches with longing, sadness, desolation and utter despair. The notes ebb and flow in waves, always moving, tendrils of emotions intertwining, pulsing and throbbing, winding their way into every molecule of your being and leaving you with a sadness that echoes through your soul. For me, it represents all the pain we witness everyday, and are helpless to change. Its the tears that mother nature weeps as we destroy not only the beauty around us but the lives of the animals who share her with us. Its the devastation of war, hatred, power and money that consumes people when if we were to just stop, we would realise that actually, there is more than enough for everyone. Nobody needs to go hungry. Nobody needs to be in pain. Nobody needs to be at war. Bold statements I know, and even more so when you consider that all comes from a piece of music that lasts just 8 minutes and 22 seconds. The thing is, it got me to thinking about music and how much of an impact it actually has on our daily lives and how for me, its always been a huge part of my everyday existence. I don't know about you guys but I have anthems. Now, don't laugh. I promise that there is method in the madness! Let me give you an example. I was a slightly rebellious and willful teenager - shocking I know, but there it is. What can I tell you! Anyhoo, it resulted in rather a lot of backwards and forwards between me and my dad who hadn't quite figured out how to handle a stubborn, rebellious teenage girl. You see, I had the joy of being the very first, and in all honesty, I think that was a little unfair on him and the mother ship as I was not the easiest and had very little interest in being easy. After all, I was a teenager. I knew everything don't ya know! This resulted in many rows and me being sent to my room regularly where I could 'think about what I had done - or not done' as the case may be! There was one song that always got played on my hi-fi when that happened and if you weren't an 80's child then you may not know it. It was my big 'screw you' moment', and being the brave soul that I was, I would stick it on and pretend my dad was on the other side of the door whilst I vehemently and defiantly sang it at him. (Check out my big brass balls!) The song of choice was You Don't Own Me from Dirty Dancing and it fit my mood rather well every time I was in trouble which was often. Every time I hear it now it makes me think of those moments and smile. If you aren't a parent you may not understand it but when you become one, you will. I would say the vast majority of those moments in my room were well deserved, and me telling him through a door that I was my own person when in reality, I was just being a brat was rather comical and just a tad pathetic! So, that was my 'I am a hard done by teenager' anthem. I guarantee you, if you sit down and think about it, there will be something that you threw on every time you got told off in your younger years and if there wasn't, what is wrong with you!!! You Don't Own Me was one of many songs that became hugely important to me, and I am still collecting songs even now as a 40 something. When those particular songs come on over Spotify, (the hi-fi is unfortunately no more), they inject a huge amount of dopamine into my brain because they carry with them moments that were all but forgotten. Even music that brings sad memories has become special, because that one piece can thrust you into a forgotten memory for a split second.The floodgates open and those exquisitely painful yet beautifully poignant moments are exposed, leaving you slightly breathless in their wake. One of the songs that has that affect on me is My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. This is not because Leo dies in Titanic, (apologies for the spoiler if you haven't seen it, but if you haven't - where the devil have you been!). Titanic was the last film I watched at the cinema with my grandad before he became sick and we eventually lost him. Its a sad film anyway but when you add that familial connection, it becomes incredibly hard to watch, and the song a stark reminder of what we lost. The thing is musers, as painful as that can be, that song also opens a doorway into things that I had forgotten. I'm reminded of me cuddling into my grandad whilst he balanced a hot drink on his belly and we watched Carry On Films. Carry On Up The Jungle is still one of my favourite films! I'm reminded of the kitchen windowsill being full of tomato plants and the sweet, earthy smell that emanated from them. Everytime I smell tomato plants it reminds me of my grandparents. I'm reminded of his coleslaws. Always very, very tasty but all sorts went into them. I'm reminded of the day he talked me into trying a green olive. I was 12 and I don't think I had ever had anything quite so awful in my mouth before. The funny thing is, I have gotten older and my tastes have changed, I absolutely love them and eating them is something else that triggers a really special memory. My Heart Will Go On was never about the film for me. It has become the trigger for a lifetime of memories that have helped to shape who I am today. I would be lying if I said I didn't have a bit of a music obsession. From childhood, it has been my comfort, my motivation, my protection and my inspiration. I have hidden in it when the world has gotten a little too much. It never judges or questions. It just is, and within that inexplicable combination of pitch, tone and harmonization, it has opened doors that have changed my life. For me, music is life and a life without music would be no life at all. As the world changes by the minute, I find comfort and familiarity in the music that has carried me through since childhood, and I honestly think, if you were to tell me I had to lose one of my senses, I would rather lose my sight than my ability to hear because in amongst those melodies, I can close my eyes and travel through a thousand different realities. That truly is the power of great music and something that I hope will never change. Until next time............

Its August people! It might not be the best August that we have ever had but actually, if you disregard the weather and soak up the love that comes for the summer months then actually, its been a bloomin' good month! So this month has been a crazy month at musers headquarters! As you all know, my small child left home which was really tough. All of a sudden life changed and I was so far from ready for it. For those of you have experienced this, when the first one goes, its not easy, but you manage because there are other small people that need you. When the last one goes though, thats a whole different kettle of fish and all of a sudden that independance, peace and quiet that you prayed for seems like its way too loud, way too much and the reality is, it was never what you wanted at all! I know I have been quiet over the last few weeks, not because there wasn't stuff to write about but because there was a period of adjustment, and I'm still figuring that out if I am honest. The thing is though, during that huge change, something else amazing happened that has also swallowed up so much time but has been life changing. How do you cope with two lifechanging events in such a small period of time I hear you ask? Well, you embrace them because the only constant in life is change and the only way to move forward is to embrace what is coming and make the best of everything. As of Friday this week, the man I met just 6 months ago moves in with me officially. Its bonkers - I know -but one thing I have learnt over the last 30 something years is that when something is right, you don't waste time. There are so many moments in life where things change with no warning and those who are left behind when tragedy strkes are left wondering what if..... What if I had just asked the question I wanted to? What if I had taken the plunge and done the thing that terrified me? What if I put myself out there and trusted that it would go the way I wanted it to? What if I had held my hands up and demanded that the world saw me and embraced me for who and what I was! I spent so much of my life being frightened, and part of that came from being in relationships that were controlling and that didn't allow me to bite the bullet or take the plunge. I spent so much time being so scared that someone would say no that I didn't even consider the possibility that the right person would say yes. The very idea that someone would want me to be the best I could be and would encourage that had never occurred to me. To have someone who treated me like the most important person in the world, who showed love and respect and wanted me to just be me was so novel that at first I didn't know how to deal with it. 6 months later I am happier than I ever thought possible. 6 months of laughing till I almost cried. 6 months of fun and silliness but also serious moments when needed 6 months of being made to feel like the most important person in the world 6 months of tenderness, intimacy and love 6 months of being welcomed into a family who have encouraged and embraced me 6 wonderful months that have told me that I have met the man that I will spend the rest of my life with. Right now we are chilling on a week away with his family and whilst a holiday has been something way overdue, being able to spend the time to get to know them all properly has been amazing. Right now, they are sitting watching Newcastle play Nottingham Forest while I write, and the lush thing is - there is no judgement. I am so comfortable in my moment with the candle lit and the meditation music playing in my ears whilst I write and they shout at the telly! This is how I always imagined it could be. Life is family and family is life and one of the beautiful things about that lies in the lack of judgement. Being able to just be around the most important people in your life is a beautiful thing and something none of us should ever take for granted. I am incredibly lucky because I grew up with the most amazing people in my life and now I have even more people to add to my family. People who have welcomed me in with open arms and who have made me feel like one of their own since day one. What more could you ask for? Life is good musers. I am going back to my way overdue holiday and the man that I love and I am going to watch the footie and embrace those little things that make life worth living. Have an amazing Wednesday. Until next time...............

I know, its been a couple of weeks and I will be honest, the writers block has kicked in massively with everything that has gone on. Sometimes, taking a step back works. Other times not so much! I don't know about you guys but the last couple of weeks has really reminded me just how precious family is, and how easily the people we love can be taken away from us with no warning at all. For those of you who are new to the musers family, I am a mum to two amazing kids, both of whom have left home now and are doing their own thing. You don't look old enough I hear you say, how could that be? (Insert laughing face here!) In all seriousness though, I couldn't be prouder of my bambino's, otherwise known as small child and large child, and although I wasn't quite ready for them stepping out into the world alone, they are doing an amazing job of building their own lives and grabbing independence with both hands. (Obvs, this means an obligatory embarrassing picture of them must be shown!) The thing is, for those of us in the UK, parents or not, this past week has really brought home just how unbelievably quickly those precious people in our lives can be taken away from us. On the 29th July, at a summer holiday yoga/dance session, the lives of three beautiful little girls were taken in an attack that can only be described as incomprehensibly evil and vicious, and when the suspect was revealed as a 17 year old boy, someone who was still legally a child himself, the utter disbelief around the country was palpable. Bebe - 6, Elsie - 7 and Alice - 9 had their whole lives ahead of them. First kiss, first job, first love, first heartbreak, first child, first home..... I could go on and on. All those moments that we have all lived and never really considered as anything more than the next stage of our journey were snatched away before they had even had the chance to experience them, and to date, nobody knows why. There is no explanation currently as to what sent a 17 year old boy to a place dark enough to kill, and maybe that is something that we will never know. It has forever changed the country, leaving an abyss of sorrow and anger that has spilt over into violence, aggression and division for a nation that needed to come together and mourn the loss of those babies rather than attacking one another. I don't want to give the boy that did this, or the racist bastards that are using it as an excuse to attack innocent people any more air time than they have already had, but I do want to talk about family, about time and about love. I would be the first one to hold my hands up and say that I sometimes forget that we aren't immortal. Until you are faced with the loss of someone, life feels as if it will go on forever and sometimes, I think this can make us lazy when it comes to showing the people that we love how important they are to us. We all have our own love language. For some we show love through gifts, for some its time, for others its physical closeness or words. The way we express how we feel is personal and unique and in my experience, it can change dependant on the person you are showing love to. For me, the love language that works is physical intimacy, time and words. I have never been one for gifts or expensive gestures. Its always been about time or the thought behind the action, the words that are used or the physical intimacy that comes from someone I love. A hug can say a thousand words, portray a hundred different emotions and has more power than anything else in my experience. Time and attention mean so much more than expensive gifts that require little thought, and that means full attention. No distractions. No screens. When something like this happens, as a parent it makes me wonder. If I were to lose one of my bambino's unexpectedly, have I done enough? Have I been enough? Did they have my time and attention when they needed it and was I the parent that I could have been, or did I cut corners and opt for the lazy option rather than being what they needed me to be? When they lose me, what will they remember? Will they know how much I loved them and that they are my absolute world, or did I not show that in the way that I should have? Will they understand that even when I was frustrated and irritated and life was a little more than I was able to cope with, they were always my priority and that even when I struggled to show that, they were always more important than I was ever able to truly show them? The world has become so fast paced, so aggressive and so distracting. Between facebook, instagram, tik tok and all the rest of the madness that sucks up our days, we forget about the time that should be spent speaking to our kids. Spending time with them. Hugging them and letting them know they are loved more than anything else in the world. As we have so violently been reminded, tomorrow is not promised. Today is a gift and we need to embrace it and those we love as if we will never see them again, because just like those three beautiful little girls who will never come home again, life is fleeting and can be taken away in a heartbeat. To my two amazing boys, I love you more than you will ever understand. You have been, and continue to be my greatest joy. You have made me more proud than I deserve to be, and everything you have achieved and will achieve has been down to you, your hard work and your determination. You are without a doubt, my greatest achievement. Nothing else in life will come close to who you are and what you have become and are still to become. I know I don't say it enough but I love you and I am so excited to see where you will go. The world is your oyster and your potential is endless. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have been able to be part of your lives. Never doubt who you are and what you can be and remember, you are loved. You are so very loved. I cannot begin to imagine the pain the families of Alice, Elsie and Bebe are experiencing, and alongside them, the families of the other children and two adults who were critically injured in the attack. Its incomprehensible. Hold your children just a little closer and love them just a little bit harder, because there is no way of knowing how long those precious souls will be with you. Until next time..........