I am Suck it up Mum

Right. Feck it.

I’m doing it.

Before and After Posts… Let’s call out the BS.

This is my first Before and After post. The two photographs were snapped only 3 seconds apart. 😅

So what did I do? What did I take? A magic pill? A Fantabulous Super-shake? A cup of Magic Tea? Nope.

A breath.

I took a breath. 😅

I straightened my back, turned my body slightly and sucked it all in!👇👇👇 You see, yes, I might be back in my favourite jeans, (after 16 months of training in Jim- NOT overnight), but after 2 magnificently STRETCHY pregnancies and two VERY messy C-Sections, my Belly is not what it might APPEAR to be when you meet me in my clothes! 😂

It’s squishy. It’s soft. It’s covered in stretch marks. There is extra skin that sags when I suck in my tummy. If I relax my tummy muscles, it is quite humongous! 💕

Some days I love it. Some days I hate it. Somedays I am so bloated that I look like I’m 6 months pregnant again. But everyday, I look in the mirror and I see a real life miracle. The stretch marks are my war wounds. My skin is stretchy because it made a house to grow my babies in. 💕It’s my Post-Baby Belly and the only person whose opinion on it matters, is ME.

So when your news feed is full of “Weight loss” adverts showing you “before and after” shots of how you can lose “15 stone in a day” if you just sign up to their pyramidic BS shakes, pills, teas, knickers etc, remember that it is likely that the pictures might just be BS. And when you see someone posting their “Look at my abs” pics, telling you how happy they are with their progress, there MIGHT just be another photograph in their camera roll that they HAVEN’T chosen to share.

If I had posted these and said there had been a 6 month gap between photographs, chances are you’d have believed me. (And of course, you WILL see GENUINE “Before and After” photographs of GENUINE weight loss journeys, but they are “JOURNEYS”, with hard work and sweat and determination, NOT miracle products.)😲

And if your body has stretched and changed to grow your minions, be proud of it. It’s yours. It’s a miracle and it’s beautiful, whether you suck it in or let it all hang out. Have a fablis Friday my Lovelies.

(It goes without saying that anyone who feels like writing anything hateful or negative, has my polite invitation to go build themselves and bridge and get over themselves. My body. Not yours.) 😙😙😙

#beattheBS #realityplease #postbabybelly #perspective

I am Some Perspective on Father’s Day Mum

This column was harder to write than I had anticipated.
Why?
Because no matter what angle I approached it from, I found myself anticipating the negative comments from other people.
I am blessed to have only wonderful father figures in my life.  My own Daddy is the actual, official “King of all the Daddies in the world”.  (That is an indisputable fact and anyone who declares their Dad to be better, is wrong. Don’t even try to argue.)  

  But even though Daddy G is indeed The  King of all the Daddies in the world, to me, I would also argue that My Him is the King of all the Daddies in the world too.

And therein lies my problem, see?
Perspective.
If you are reading this thinking, “Well actually love, MY Dad is The King of all the Daddies in the world“, then YOU are right too.  But he is only the King of all the Daddies in the world TO YOU.(and your siblings!)
And if you are thinking “Hold up there S-Mum, my partner is actually The King of all the Daddies in the World, you silly mare!”, you are right too.
Because, we only see things from our own perspective, don’t we?
Today, those of us who can visit or call our Dads are blessed.  There are so many who wish they could,  Today, like Mother’s Day and Christmas and every other day of the year, is difficult for so many people.  There are empty chairs at so many tables, and they seem even more empty of days like today.  To my Lovelies with this perspective, I send my love today.
Others will read this and roll their eyes, because Father’s Day means little to them for one reason or another. That’s OK too.
Many Fathers will spend today surrounded by their family, opening endless bags of socks and Toblerone.  There will be packed carveries and Mr Hall-of-the-Mark shall be rolling in his money from all the cards and utter crap that we have binge bought over the past few days.  There will be lunches, and dinners and grandchildren playing and hugs and general appreciation for what we appreciate every day, but don’t always say.
But so many Fathers will spend today missing their children.  Perhaps because of distance.  Perhaps because of circumstance.  Perhaps through choice.  Perhaps because of someone else deciding they can’t see their child.  And while there are of course, so many who spend today alone for so many reasons, it is important to remember that those who are broken-hearted today, are still Fathers.

Again Perspective.
Like Mother’s Day, Like Christmas, everyone’s perspective of Father’s Day is tinted by their own experience and their own story.  While one person curses the day for the memories it stirs, another celebrates the day because of the year they’ve had.  One person hates the day because it makes them angry, another celebrates it because it makes them happy.  One person breaks their heart the whole day, another doesn’t give it a second thought.
What is it anyway?  It’s just a day.  It’s only a day.  But if you are in a position where you are blessed enough to have a Daddy or a Grandad or Stepfather or <em>any</em> Father-figure in your life, enjoy it.  Enjoy celebrating them and all they do for you. Call them.  Visit them.  Enjoy every second of today.
Because like every other day, we never know what is around the next corner.  We never know when our worlds will change.  And we never know how important seemingly unimportant days like today are, until we are forced to change our perspective.

And so you see why I found this difficult. Because my perspective will not always be the same as that of my reader, but that does not mean that one of us is wrong.
Whether you are celebrating today, or not, have a wonderful Father’s Day.   xx
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