family - mocha beanie mummy

Last Christmas I gave you my ass.

December 30, 2011 By mocha beanie mummy 10 Comments

Yeah. Harsh but true. Every Christmas I’d bust my ass trying to make sure it was absolutely perfect for everyone. Everyone else has their problems with Christmas, and I’d be the one running around trying to make it all better. Which would normally result in me missing out on a day that should be filled with fa la laah and alcohol.

I would still get the alcohol, but not with a smile on my face.

This year, something changed. I’ve spent so much time busting my ass for everyone else. Not just for my boys, not just for D, but for everyone. I should have felt insanely guilty about some of the choices I made this Christmas.

Choosing to not tidy the kitchen immediately after I cooked the mahoosive Christmas breakfast fry-up, letting D do it instead.

Making sure the boys didn’t rip into every single present within seconds of seeing them (which they didn’t want to do anyway).

Not cooking every vegetable under the sun and only doing one course for Christmas dinner (we bought in a pudding for the boys).

A significant moment came when I realised I could have a good Christmas, whilst still making sure my boys were ok, and trying to be mindful of others. I was surprised at myself when I was feeling cross with others reactions when I was trying to keep the peace with the boys on either side of Christmas day. I’ve worked hard enough to make sure they have a good day, so that I can have a good day, so that we ALL have a good day.

Weirdly, I enjoyed Christmas day more than any other day of the holidays so far, hands down. Normally I enjoy Boxing day at the in-laws, but this year came away feeling very cross. I know why, and amazingly it wasn’t because things were “out of my control”, which is often the case. Christmas Eve was weird, but I can’t figure out why.

Christmas day, with just me, D and my boys (and my mom for a short while in the morning – she loved watching them open their presents!) was absolutely perfect. I think much of it was because we were all in our own kind of control. I didn’t need to do anything; the day just flowed perfectly. This year, I just made sure the little things worked for us, so that we would be happy.

I suspect that other contributing factors made big differences. Work is going well, and I think, although I’m not entirely sure, that Trevor’s work is slowly sinking in. There’s still so much there that I’m terrified of, and needs work, but it’s still early days, right?

So last Christmas, I handed out my ass on a plate ready for everyone to pretty much use it as they saw fit. I didn’t defend myself when I disagreed with something, nor did I fight for the things I really wanted to do (sit around, be a lazy bitch, play with my presents, play with the boy’s presents, drink, eat, drink some more; you know, the usual stuff). Visiting friends and family, I often came away feeling like shit; a bit scummy for not meeting up to their standards, or because I was always the one everyone could take the piss out of. My reactions this year aren’t quite as laid back as they were perhaps expecting.

My patience is short with others. My precious time is short with people who matter. To me.

This Christmas, I gave what I wanted to give. I gave me. The difference, is that instead of just having my ass on a plate to be beaten, I gave all of me; including the bits that can defend the other bits. My mind, most importantly.

This year was the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time. And I know that when I’m happy, my family in this house are happy. Because I didn’t shut down. Instead, I stood strong. Well, stronger than other times, in any case. And that’s not a bad thing.

Filed Under: actual happy times, christmas, Depression, family

Christmas Wishes and some really Awesome Things

December 21, 2011 By mocha beanie mummy 7 Comments

Like most people, I have a Christmas wish list. Don’t we all? So in true Christmas blogging spirit, here is mine, in no particular order.

1) I wish for the ability to perform a Shinku Hadoken. For those who aren’t die-hard Street Fighter fans, observe:

Because sometimes, I just feel the need. And necessity.

2) I wish for to tweet me. My stalker tweets are escalating to levels similar to that of , and quite frankly, I just don’t have the time for that.

the tweet needs to make reference to my arse.
the tweet needs to be in such a way that everyone sees it, not just those who follow us.
yes I am making specific demands.

3) I wish for shares in Calpol and Minadex. Because I swear to God, the Smalls have gone through enough of the stuff in the last month to have out me on the same level as frillionaires. Had I not spent all the money on the meds, of course.

And while we’re on the subject of drugs,

4) I wish for The Smalls to stop frigging well being ill omg the Facial Orifice Fluid PLEASE MAKE IT STOP.

5) I wish for shares in Kleenex Ultra Balsam.

6) I wish for people to stop being weird prunts on twitter/Facebook. I know you think you’re being funny, insulting me or taking the piss or having a dig whenever you feel like it? No. You’re just being a prunt, and I don’t take too well to prunts, you know?

7) I wish for jackpot lottery tickets, ideally to win in the next few weeks. Because if you don’t ask, you will never know.

8 ) I wish for my brain to stop being a fucked up piece of shit, in the hope that I can work out who the hell I am, and therefore be able to cope with myself in 2012. Now that’s a nice thought, eh?

9) I wish to become so insanely gorgeous, that when I fall out of bed looking like shit, I DON’T fall out of bed looking like shit, but looking, well, insanely gorgeous. With bigger boobs.

10) I wish for PR people to just back the fuck up for a second and think carefully about what you’re sending me. And if must fuck up a PR email, please fuck it up good and proper, so that I can point and laugh at you, bitch about you on twitter, write about it and then point and laugh some more. OR, on the flip side, be so fucking awesome that I can’t help but send you emails laughing about penises/penii and googling questionable street names. I’m looking at you, . I heart you a little bit.

11) I wish for a Canon 5D Mark II, with EF 70-200mm f/2.8L IS II USM, EF 50mm f/1.2L USM and, you know, a Hasselblad. Preferably, the H4D-40 Ferrari edition.

Camera car porn beyond belief. Now go change your knickers.

courtesy of BMXWonderland

12) I wish for peace, happiness, success, good health blah blah. And bacon. And rum. Lots of rum.

Filed Under: actual happy times, christmas, Facial Orifice Fluid (FOF), family, Holiday, illness, Isaac, Just...everything., MAKE IT STOP, mocha beanie mummy, neurosis, Noah, photos, PR, random,

Living the dream. Or the TV advert, according to John Lewis.

November 15, 2011 By mocha beanie mummy 9 Comments

I’m pretty sure most of you will have seen the new John Lewis Christmas tv ad, which aired this weekend. This is not a sponsored post. Geeeeeeze, stop with your bloody cynicism.

D and I saw this advert and well, we both blubbed a little. Now, it should be stressed that I do not cry at such things. Although, the last thing I cried at was when we finally got to the end of watching Prison Break recently, and we found out what happens to Burrows and Schofield. Damn. Those two guys are hawt.

Anyway, I don’t do crying at stuff, it’s just not me. Am I unemotional? Far from it. I have my moments. But I’m also aware of real life, and how most tv is utter bollocks. Including adverts. (Prison Break, however, is entirely real, so shut your mouth.) It took me a second to figure out why D and I were both pretending why we had something in our eyes, both of us being so down to Earth and all, and then D said it.

“That’s exactly what Noah would do.”

Jesus, the man done hit the nail on the proverbial head.

I was gobsmacked by the amount of cynicism with which the advert was met on twitter. I totally get those who weren’t moved by it (see previous paragraphs) but then there were tweets that actually made me quite sad. Including:

only cos it’s fairytale parenthood. Life ain’t perfect girlie, is it?

and also (upon saying I wanted to blog about it):

[...] I feel MURDEROUS when I watch it [...] can’t be doing with the schmaltzy stuff – how did he get to town, buy, sneak home, wrap, etc

So. Why so sad at something so seemingly staged (it’s a filmed advert, after all)? It’s obvious. If you live with Noah.

It’s the sort of thing he would do. It’s the sort of thing he’s already tried to do.

Last year, Noah wanted to make a cake for his dad’s birthday. Only, he realised that Daddy’s birthday was around the corner and he was going to have to exercise his resources. So he made one out of Stickle Bricks of his own accord, and presented it to his Daddy later on. “Surprise, Daddy! I made you a cake.”

When his Uncle and new Aunty got married back in September, he saw that they had been given presents on the day. On his arrival back at home, he asked me if he could make them something to give as a gift; he created one hell of a work of art (unknown to them, or anyone else but myself since he had to ask for the bits and pieces) and asked me to give it to the couple when I saw them next. When asked “why don’t you do it, Noah?” came the reply “because I’ll be at school, Mommy, and I can’t get to their house on my own. You will see them won’t you Mommy?”

In the car whilst rushing around from place to place sorting out life in general, we stopped and got both boys a McD’s Happy Meal each. Emptied the nuggets and fries into the box and passed one to Noah. He took one nugget and passed the box to Isaac; his assumption was to share the food with everyone. He looked mildly confused when we told him that box was just for him.

I hate to sound like that barfy dreamed-drugged parent whom every body hates, but the sort of stuff in that John Lewis advert does happen in our house. Fairytale parenthood? Maybe. Fairytale for some, not us. Schmaltzy? To some. Not to us. Actually, it’s quite normal for us in this house. Resourceful little boy? Yep. If Noah wants to do something, much like his stubborn mother, once he’s put his mind to it, he’ll do it. He’ll figure a way. It’s only because he hasn’t fully realised the extent to which he could go, I suspect, why he hasn’t yet gone all out.

D and I cried suddenly had itchy eyes because to us, the advert was real. We’ve seen it for real. I’m not going to sit here and judge in a holier than thou fashion, and say that other parents should have children who behave like this. On the contrary; there are kids who are gorgeous and thoughtful and stunningly delightful in just about every way I could think of, and more. But. I love this advert for making me realise how beautiful Noah’s actions actually are. Seeing it on tv like that, not necessarily enhanced, just condensed, gave D and I a very real snapshot of what we live with.

Cheesy? Possibly. Fairytale? Maybe.

All very real to us though.

Filed Under: actual happy times, assvice, D, family, neurosis, Noah, Not a review

A Series of Posts About Jamaica Part III: Not A Tribute To My Granddad

November 2, 2011 By mocha beanie mummy 29 Comments

“So Jay! How was Jamaica?”

It was great!

“Hi Jay!! How was Jamaica??”

It was, um, ok.

“Hey there Jay, you’re back! How was Jamaica?”

Er….

*sigh*

Truth is, I don’t have one answer. Seeing my Granddad was just beyond awesome. My mom organising just about everything was amazing. This isn’t a “tribute”, because he’s not dead. This is just a recollection of moment. A moment so awesome, I’m just going to try to put it into words, most likely in a rather clumsy manner.

My Granddad was looking possibly the best I had seen him in years. On the plane home, for the first time ever, I cried. He was alert, completely with it, happy, chatty…the look on his face when he walked out on to his veranda to see his immediate family members, including a great grandchild he didn’t know about yet (my nephew), is an image that will stay with me FOREVER. I think it took him a good few minutes to cotton on to the fact that we were all actually sitting there, right there, real life. He couldn’t stop staring around and for a short while, was actually quite speechless.

This is most unlike my Granddad, who can sit and talk for hours about anything you like.

My gorgeous aunt guided him to the door telling him there was someone to see him. This was his face I managed to capture as he appeared.

Never had I longed so badly for my boys, my own family, to be there with me. Granddad’s smile was so immense, so full, he just seemed to want to take in everything all at the same time. He chatted to us, to himself, to anyone who would listen, the whole time.

It took him a short while to realise he was a great grandfather again.

It made me smile immensely though, to see his face light up more as he realised the extent of his family surprise. I’m not entirely sure I can say I’ve seen him smile this particular smile before.

Jamaica Family Holiday Oct 11-46 © Jay Mountford Photography I had created a photo book a few weeks previously; it was on offer at the time, and I hadn’t thought much of the offer at first. Closer to this holiday, it suddenly made sense to take my boys to Granddad; I created “A Year In The Life of Noah and Isaac”, containing photos from the last 12 months of the boys, myself and D. I think Granddad liked it.

He sat there and read it from beginning to end. Twice.

One of the things that was important to me about this family event, especially having my camera with me, was creating fresh memories for my family. We were looking at photos of the generation above me. Of my mom, my aunties and uncles as children, little sign of the grandchildren. Some of my Granddad and even, stupidly out of the blue, my adored Granny, as young adults, some 50 years ago.

This particular moment was especially eye-opening, looking at these photos with my cousins and siblings.

My own children will do this one day. Maybe my own grand children.

Granddad didn’t know we were coming to visit. A total of 16 family members visited him over the period of one week. 11 family members waited for him on his verander that first day we went to see him, 2 members were already staying with him. Some of the members he had never met before (partners and young children), while other members he hadn’t seen for maybe 12 years.

It was a hell of a lot for him to take in, and we (nervously) laughed and joked about him surviving such a surprise visit.

He survived all right. When we said our goodbyes, less than a few short days later, he was asking if we could make it back this year for Christmas.

Granddad? I can’t make it back for Christmas. But trust me, we will make it back to Jamaica to see you again soon.

Filed Under: family, Holiday, Jamaica

My brain still hurts from Jamaica

October 31, 2011 By mocha beanie mummy 6 Comments

Jet lag is severely kicking my ass. So I’m going to fob you off (again) with some pictures of The Smalls being all domesticated and cute and stuff. I didn’t have to edit these photos, unlike the 49 frillion photos from the photo shoots before I went away. So you know, total cop-out in this post.

It’s amazing how willing they are to wash their hands when they know cake will follow.