Tomorrow is never promised...

My posts are usually light hearted, tongue in cheek, and in a “laugh at my own jokes” way, humorous… Whilst I whine about my so-called-life, really I love it and wouldn’t change it for the world…  My babies may be rascals, but they’re my rascals and without their boundary pushing, patience testing antics, my life would be peaceful but rather dull.

Today my post is different, one of a sadder content. With a heavy heart, it’s taken me a week to write, often as my fingertips have brushed the keys on my laptop, my eyes have stung with unwelcome tears that have threatened to fall. Tears that I feel I don’t deserve to cry.

Last weekend, St Georges Day, my eldest niece lost one of her very dearest friends. She’s 19. So was he.

I can’t help by feel I didn’t know George well enough to warrant my tears. But my tears are for him, forever 19 years old. For his parents losing a child with so much life left to live. For his brother losing a sibling and best friend. For his long term girlfriend, dealing with something she never thought she’d have to. For his friends who have lost a brother. And for my Chloe… My heart aches for the pain she is going through, this out of body feeling that is so foreign to her.  Self-confessed, she’s in denial; a bubble. Until he is laid to rest it won’t really seem real. Her heart is breaking and in turn it’s heart breaking to have to stand back and watch without being able to take any of the pain away.

My niece has lived a fortunate life, where in the 19 years she’s been on this earth she’s never loved and lost.

This boy that she had grown up with, schooled with, walked to and from school with, had grown up to be a fine young man. He was a credit to his parents. Which I told his mum just this morning.

Despite going their separate ways after leaving school, Chloe still saw George regularly, last year when I was pregnant, Chloe (unplanned) took Olly to one of their catch ups. Not many teenage boys would be so accommodating to have a 3 year old tear away gate crash their plans. But he was, he welcomed my loveable rogue, took him to his favourite pub with a soft play, gave him the time of day and treated him to his dinner. Olly came home utterly impressed with a new favourite friend!

Regardless of how a life is lost, no parent should ever have to see their child go before them. It’s not the way it’s supposed to be. That’s not how the circle of life is supposed to work.

This past week I have seen nothing but love and appreciation for this young man. And at time when they should, old friends, even former teachers have reunited to reminisce about growing up and the good times. His family have been very brave at a time when you can’t imagine what they must be going through…  Life can be cruel. So, so cruel.

I have been reminded that life is short; Tomorrow is never promised. Do things that scare you, tell those important that you love them and live each day as if it was your last…

 May you rest in peace St George of Derby xoxo

The self combusting bean bag chair

This week has been no different to the last few in our household, as the football season draws close to an end, the past 7 days has seen the hubster in Ireland, Portugal and Brighton. With a parents evening squeezed in between. 

Parenting 2 children under 5, working part time, as well as running a cheerleading academy and keeping the dog alive has its challenges, especially when one is on their own.  This week I have cussed silently under my breath on more occasions than I can count, considered changing my name from momma, mummy, muuuuuuuum and all the above by deed poll, sat silently rocking on the landing wrapped up in a Good Dinosaur duvet but alas, I’ve made it another week!

One more home game next Saturday followed by semi-final play offs and I have my husband back for a few weeks! I am excited.

I sometimes think my children secretly hate me and are conspiring to cause me a break down with the help of the dog. Nancy has turned in to danger baby, any dangerous activity; she gravitates towards it quicker than a fly around freshly dropped shit. Her current favourite is climbing. Followed by gripping on by her baby finger, with just a random noise to make you panic she may be up to something she shouldn’t. She’s also started answering back, in a fashion. All this is cheered on by her non-idyllic role model big brother!

These offspring’s of mine don’t go without. They’re quite fortunate, have toys to play with and a flaming playroom for the good Lords sake. But everything has to be dragged in to the sitting room. And when I say everything, I mean things that either take up the whole room, like a play tent (trying watching TV from behind that!), making a cushion mountain with the scatter back cushions off the sofa or playing with the dog lead. Yes, hours of fun comes from the extractable dog lead. I put in hard to reach places or hide it but the boy ALWAYS finds it. For those of you who didn’t know, it also makes an excellent zip line for Power Rangers, Avengers and Fireman (thank you Fisher Price Imaginext) All you have to do is attach one part to the window handle and the other the fire place grate. Super fun for Olly whilst being a death trap for everyone else in the house.

Today is bank holiday Monday and it’s peeing it down where we are. So far today I have had a cheerleading rehearsal followed by a quick visit to my sisters then an afternoon at home. Olly is an outdoor boy so this weather causes him to go stir crazy. With the boredom comes mischief, you can hear his brain churning as he’s thinking what he can do. 

Whilst Nancy had an unheard of power nap on the sofa, the bear and I sat and did his handwriting practice for school. Those bloody S’s just don’t want to go the right way!! He then proceeded to colour in the work sheet. Once the madam had woken she was ready for a late lunch, leaving the boy in the lounge colouring and watching his programmes, all seemed to be as it should in a normal household. Except my household ISN’T a normal household.

15 minutes of being in the kitchen and in comes Olly. There will be only 2 reasons for this visit; hunger or something has happened that was absolutely in no way at all his fault.

On this occasion it was the latter.  

“Mummy that green seat that’s Nancy’s has popped” – green beanbag chair. Yes, the same as a bean bag. Yes, those really annoying, supper static little white balls. “But don’t worry, there’s only a few on the floor, and a few on the sofa, oh and a few on the window sill”

As I make my way in to the sitting room with Nancy in arms there is what can only be described as 568983746 billion white static balls all over the floor, sofa and window sill. FML.

As if he is reading my mind or more so my facial expressions “I was just using it to wipe out my dinosaurs”

Happy Bank Holiday everyone. If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be sat on my landing, wrapped in a Good Dinosaur duvet rocking back and forth!

‘Til next time xoxo