Lets be honest there aren’t many women who look in the mirror and likes what they see.
We all want to change a little about ourselves.
Me I have a love hate relationship with my body.
I love to hate it.
Thanks to medication and not being able to properly exercise due to this wonderful (sarcasm) illness I am
a lot larger than what I wish to be.
For the last 8 years I have pretty much hated the mirror and avoided at all costs. Convinced that nothing looks good or would look good.
The last few months I have finally started to get over myself.
Thanks to fashion plus size bloggers and the growing range of plus size clothing I am realising that I can look good.
Reading the beauty blogs and learning more about make up and being more adventurous
I am trying to move forward from the jeans and black Tshirt that has pretty much been my daily uniform.
In fact the other day I went shopping and actually tried on clothes that I would have normally shied away from.
And guess what I brought pink shoes. Yes that’s right pink shoes.
I know this sounds crazy but this is big for me.
The journey to loving my body starts here.
You know what I’m in a good place right now.
The beginning of this year has brought me many changes, hard decisions and a lot of heartache.
I have doubted who I am, stood in judgement on myself.
It wasn’t good and for a while there I was scared.
Scared of falling into the darkness.
Thankfully I didn’t, even in the midst of it all I held on for the light.
And it came.
Yeah that feels so good to say that.
I don’t find it easy to be in that happy place. I struggle so much with guilt, fear and just the burning desire to be liked.
Happiness isn’t my natural go to point.
But finally I’m in that place where I want to shout out.
HEY YOU KNOW WHAT, IM GOOD
Seriously please tell me I’m not alone.
Teenagers really are from another planet right?
Also what was cool one day is soooo not the next.
I need a guidebook that has a daily entry full of what’s ok for that given day.
Don’t get me wrong I love my girls but my goodness it was so much easier when they were little.
Give me four under five any day
People tell me it’s them finding their place in this world, they own identify .
I’m a bit concerned that being stroppy individuals is their true identity.
I am at a lost, I’m considering moving country for a few years well until they are adults anyway.
I know I know, these years are precious and I will miss them when they leave home, but marking days off a calendar is ok isn’t it.
Tell me it gets easier, if not please send wine.
I cannot believe that today you my baby are old enough to drive.
Where has those 17 years gone?
How quick does it seem since you were like this.
You have faced so many things in your 17 years. Things no child should face, yet you has done so with such grace.
The last year hasn’t been easy for us. You fighting for your independence me holding on scared to let you grow, go.
You are an inspiration to me.
Your determination, your drive are all things are admire so much.
I love the way you sing everywhere, the shower, eating your dinner even shopping. I did say everywhere.
The next year is going to be one of many changes, A levels, university placement choosing.
Wherever and whatever the next year brings I will always be in your corner.
Love you lady to the moon, stars and back again.
Happy 17th birthday
My beautiful big girl.
Language is a diverse communication in my home.
Diverse is interesting but at times it’s so frustrating.
Or found yourself repeating yourself numerous times to a child who has decided to switch off simply because he doesn’t care for what you are saying?
Diverse, different, challenging
Yes I guess you could say this.
Also not all our language is in the spoken form a variety of written cues and makaton a form of sign language is used too.
I love the art of poetry creating images in prose. Transporting me to different places, different times.
The entrapment of a story which takes you into the world of make believe.
Or that sweet gentle tone of a parent to a child. The language of compassion.
Language is unique to each and everyone of us.
Words the same but spoken in a way that is truly only ours.
Diversity of language can be found in countries, cultures, religions.
Language can be found in many forms.
These days it’s less verbal than ever as we send millions of texts from our mobiles.
Or emails from our computers.
Those three simple elegant beautiful words that make our hearts sore.
I love you.
The best language of them all.
The language of love
I’m not going to bring you a Show and Tell Saturday today, simply because it wouldn’t be very long.
The only word I can use to describe this last week has been recovery.
Oh maybe I could add Pain in there too.
Its been a week of frustration for me.
Its annoying when my mind wants to do so much and my body just won’t play along.
So this week I haven’t finished a book.
I have barely be out and have been resting as much as possible.
See I live such an exciting life. NOT
It may be heading towards five years since we lost Livvy but sometimes it only feels like yesterday.
Only this week my eldest was undertaking a first aid course as part of her training for her Saturday job.
Anyway she was doing fine enjoying learning new knowledge when they came to the part about resuscitation.
She was back to the fateful morning when she woke to the sounds of tears and the presence of paramedics trying their hardest to save her sister.
Her heart just broke and the tears began to fall.
She couldn’t continue and had to leave.
Past had become present.
Present had become painful.
Moving forward isn’t easy, we laugh, we plan and we live life.
But we all have scars.
Scars of memories that will never leave us, they are just part of our make up.
I’m grateful the good memories outweigh the bad but each of them form a piece of our identity.
Who we are!!
I’m so proud of my amazing daughter, she returned to the course the next day and completed her training.
One brave young woman I’m blessed to call my daughter.
One compassionate young lady Livvy is proud to call her sister.
Sometimes I just get so fed up of expectations.
What others think I should be doing.
Only yesterday I was moaning about needed a break from life.
From the arguing of my teenagers. The constant roundabout of general day to day issues.
I just wanted a night out with my girlfriends.
When a email I received about being ungrateful really struck at my heart.
Also it told me I should know better really hurt.
Yes I am a bereaved mom and yes I cherish my children
But I am only human.
Losing Livvy didn’t turn me into a saint.
I still get frustrated at my teens.
Still get cross when they act all entitled.
Also none of these feelings ever stop me loving them any less.
It’s ok to need a break now and again.
It’s ok to have a need to be called Sara rather than mom.
It isn’t failing at motherhood.
It isn’t taking my children for granted
It’s being normal.