The visiting it continues...

I've gotta say that Shaun, my brother, is a bit difficult to deal with at times, sometimes he's all "yeah" and other times there is a definite "Fuck, why are you here vibe", that I find hard to deal with.

Even though we confirmed we were coming to visit 3 weeks ago, I've had that vibe this weekend, when I had to ask if it was ok to stay the extra night on Sunday I really felt like I was overstaying the weekend.

Shaun informed me that he was working Monday, so I kinda planed to leave early morning, allowing Dylan to sleep in the car on the way to Bev and Simon's. I figured we could spend the day meandering around Lancaster until Bev and Simon got in on Monday evening.

Monday morning dawned and Dylan woke up with the words "Cows" burning his lips, I heard Jo in the shower so knew it was okay for us to get up. In our pyjamas we headed down the back of the garden to say to "goodmorning" to the cows. The farmer, who is according to Shaun and Jo, a bit of a recluse, waved and smiled at us. I guess the sight of a very dishevelled mommie, holding up a grinning two year old screaming "Morning Cows" can break down the biggest of walls.

After checking out the cows we returned to the kitchen to Jo. Dylan was in denial about Jo leaving to go to work. "Jogi - stay". "Cows". "Hold hand". Jo seemed to find it almost as difficult to say goodbye to Dylan and he did to her. But, unexpectedly Shaun turfed himself out of bed and the separation process was made slightly easier.

We waved off Jo and returned to the kitchen for more tea. There is something intrinsically lovely about sitting and drinking tea with your brother. Especially when said brother appeared to be in the loveliest of moods.

Instead of demanding our departure Shaun actually encouraged us to spend the day with him. He explained he had a couple of jobs to do in Keswick but was happy to take us to the climbing wall to do a bit of climbing.

I packed up the car whilst Shaun took Dylan out to say goodbye to the cows. Then we set off to Keswick. I really did think it was a going to be a here it is, say goodbye... but we spent a gorgeous day with Shaun. He demonstrated such a huge amount of patience with Dylan, chasing round after him, encouraging him to play, encouraging me to climb, encouraging both of us to investigate.

Dylan loved the swinging stuff,


but didn't particularly go for the climbing.


I thought it was still a bit early, but talking to one of Shaun's friends it seems that its actually quite normal to encourage 2 yr olds to start climbing.

Dylan did however love the latter part of the afternoon where Uncle Shaun played, they threw sticks and generally just interacted. I loved watching it. Dylan seemed to really enjoy the maleness of Shaun's play. They sat on a hill throwing sticks at me

Which Dylan thought was hilarious



doing Pooh sticks



And just playing. It was really gorgeous to watch. Sometimes I wonder if he is starved of male role models, cause whenever he is with a "guy" Dylan just becomes so interactive and playful.

Anyway, the afternoon had to come to an end and at 4 o'clock we said goodbye to Shaun and set off to Bev and Simon's in Lancaster. Dylan cried as we drove away "Bye, bye Shaun", "Shaun Gone mama"

Within minutes of being in the car he was asleep, the afternoons activity obviously taking its toll. The drive down to Lancaster was really easy and very enjoyable. As I drive through the Cumbrian landscape I always feel so at home, being an army brat I have limited opportunities to return to places. This is one of the few places I can.

I arrived at Bev's thinking I would have to hang for a while, but luckily Lynne and Simon were both home.

Now again. Misconceptions rule. And Ive probably not taken Dylan to visit Bev and Simon cause they are definitely not "children" people. Simon and Lynn, Bev and Simon's house mate, were totally cool with Dylan, really welcoming and very encouraging to his forages into their home.

Simon took us on an exploration around their house, which is a very lovely place at the back of a farm, so there were "tractors", chickens and sheep in abundance. Most exciting to Dylan was Bev's horse trailer, which Simon happily opened up for us, Dylan climbed a mongthe horse poo, much to Simons amusement and the tone for the evening was set.

We spent a lovely evening at a local pub with Bev and Simon being perfect hosts to me and a rather exuberant 2 yr old. With Dylan in bed much wine was consumed and we chatted, caught up and I just had a lovely time. Buckets of wine later I head for bed with a warm feeling in my belly.

The morning dawned and Dylan and I sneaked downstairs to join Lynn for breakfast, Bev soon joined us and we had a leisurely meander threw cornflakes. Sadly all visits must come to an end so I packed up the car and we waved "Bye Bye" to Bev.

My misconceptions I have stored firmly in the bin. Bev and Simon are totally fab with kids and I would be more than happy to leave the little bloke in their tender ministrations.

We went a visiting.

This weekend, with Keefe away in London, I decided to pack up the car and head over to visit Shaun and Jo - we've not been over to see them since October last year and I love spending time with Jo, she is just so easy going.

Dylan spent the morning with Pops (My dads current name) Ludden whilst I did 'sing and sign'. I came home to find a very happy wee man lying on the sofa with a grin on his face. Dylan was pretty happy too. They had been down on the beach, getting very wet.

Putting a tired we man into the car I headed off to Cumbria, the traffic was actually pretty good and we made great time. Dylan was asleep by the time I hit the end of my road and didn't wake up until we hit the beginning of Jo and Shaun's. What a great way to travel - get in the car, go to sleep, wake up and "hey presto your there".

Jo was her normal gorgeous welcoming self. Dylan walked into the house, through the living room into the kitchen, pointed out the back and said "Cows, outside". Which yes, there were. HE REMEMBERED!!!

My inability to pack properly meant that we had to pop into Cockermouth to buy a coat! Coat picked up we headed off to Georgina's, a friend of Jo's from work. Georgina has chickens! Need I say more! Dylan had a fantastic time and Georgina made us really welcome, we had tea and cake and Dylan was allowed to pick his own egg from the coop for breakfast. He was such a little charmer and made himself totally at home!

Sunday we spent with Jo, as Shaun was working. We went for a gorgeous walk in the morning, in search of cows, the lane we walked down was full of puddles and mud and Dylan stomped through each and every one. We saw lambs, Dylan was over the moon he actually signed "Baby" and "sheep" - hmm was Dylan over the moon or was I.

With wellies full of water and mud we headed home for a morning nap - it didn't happen.

So instead of Jo cooking I took her up to the villages local to see what they offered for Sunday lunch. From the outside its a really rough little pub, I was kinda expecting the place to go quiet as we entered, with the swoosh of the pub doors the only thing we could hear, but instead we got a welcoming "hello" from the bar man.

We ordered drinks and Dylan took charge. He played on the bar stools, investigated the tables and got the bar man to play "boo" with him. The food was fab and even with Dylan doing his little hooligan bit, we had a very lovely time.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with the obligatory snooze in front of the "real coal fire", making cornflake chocolate crunchies, finding cows and investigating Shaun and Jo's allotment - A pretty full day.



Dylan put his coat on by himself, once he had it on I couldnt get him to take it off - I had to do it up for him!!!



By the time I eventually got Dylan into bed I was more than ready for the warmth of the duvet myself.

Dylans Party

This weekend the weekend of the JOINT BIRTHDAY PARTY.

There are five of us, Annette, Helene, Julie, Emma and me, who hang on a regular basis, whose babies, Orlan, Archie, Eva, Maisey and Dylan, were all born pretty near each other. Rather than having separate parties we had decided to have a joint party, we had also agreed that our little bambino's have got enough stuff, so we decided to ask everyone who was coming to the party to not bring presents, but to make donations to the NSPCC.

Invitations went out, the room was booked and the cakes made (thanks to Annette). Saturday morning came and I felt bloody awful, I had spent most of the night poo-ing through the eye of a needle and being violently sick when I wasn't poo-ing.

Mum and dad agreed to take Dylan to the party, because Keefe was going to do his shopping - priorities in the right place, or what. After dropping Dylan off at mine, he then had the cheek to invite himself to the party. I was too ill to actually argue with him. He didn't even see that as he didn't know anyone else there and had made no contribution to the party that it was, in my opinion, wrong for him to be there.

But he went, so did mum and dad. Mum called me half way through the party to say that Emma, had asked Keefe if he was "Dylan's Grandad". God that made me smile - bitch that I am!

Me, I spent the day lying on the sofa, watching "Sharp" in between visits to the toilet.

Mum and dad took Dylan for the night, because Keefe had to tidy up and he had had him for two nights previously.

I'm saying nothing!!!! (four exclamation marks should say it all)

What have I been doing these last couple of days...

Well, Keefe went off to London and Ive been looking after Dylan. Its been the usual chaotic crap, added into the pot is my returning to work - Booo, and getting the all clear from Mr Collis regarding my boobs and the all clear on the cancer scare - Yeahhhhhs all round.

Ive also spent a lot of time with Annette and Orla, just hanging either at the aquarium, Kikis or pottering round her place. Its just so easy spending time with Annette, we seem able to talk about anything and generally we do.

This afternoon we headed to the park and Orla and Dylan ran round like mad thingies. its a great way to get them tired out for the night. Annette and I did our usual entertainment thang on the see saw. We are getting pretty good at requests, although I have to say generally we do "Horsey, Horsey", "How much is that doggy in the window" and "Wheels on the bus". All the other mums and dads in the park look on us like we are little mad, but also with a little jealousy - We are after all quite fab!!!

My baby is back...

I crept upstairs once he slept and peeked in at him, I couldnt resist taking this photo.


God I love him

My Quiet time endeth...

I spent this morning attempting to make up for my rather lax weekend. I walked down to the shops, it was lovely, windy but still nice to just plod on down. I have to say that the walk back with two heavily laden bags was slightly just off the nice... my arms ache!

I changed my bed, did several loads of washing and spoke to Hooch. It was during this conversation that I finally had to face that Im now totally clear of my antidepresants. And Im back to a rather emotional me!!!

Hooch sent me a photo she had taken whilst attending a ball down in London. She has over the last couple of months lost an incredible 40lbs. Following an accident as a child her front teeth were a stained brown colour, I have to admit that after talking to her for about 3 seconds you totally forget this, but its always been an issue for Hx and because she can she got it fixed.

In this photo she looked slim, she looked confidant and she was smiling!! Even as my bridesmaid she didnt smile (that may have been the dress) but just seeing her looking so fantastic was just too much for my raw red emotions and I burst into tears.

Just as I was pulling myself together didnt the 'cahw' go and call me... Blub!

Anyway following a prolonged conversation we said goodbye, Hx went off to do some work and I went off to play with my compter, whislt watching some of the DVDs that I have never quite found the time to watch.

2.30 came and in walked my wee man. My heart sored and as he ran to me, crying "Ma" I knew that as much as I have loved this lazy weekend, I love having him in my life much more.

Daniels visit.

Keefe was responsible for capturing pictures of Daniel and Dylan whilst on his visit. Its not one of the things he is great at, so these are the pics I have ....

Call me a couch potatoe...

I cannot believe it, I've had a weekend all to myself, excluding sing and sign yesterday morning and I've done ABSOLUTELY nothing. I mean it, nothing, nada, niet...

Ive sat on the couch moulding my butt into a deepening well of wobbliness. As each moment passes I have felt the pounds increase. That image has not been helped by the fact that I've eaten and drunk more this weekend than I've eaten and drunk for weeks.

I've plebbed!

Oh my god, I feel so guilty!

But it has been relaxing!

Dylan is leaving me...

Or at least Dylan is going to stay with his daddy for the weekend. Daniel, his brother, is coming up to stay, the plan is to take him to Flamingo Land on Sunday, a day which we normally spend at Mum and Dads.

We spent the morning playing in the living room. His speach and vocabluary are becoming really defined, stringing words together to make sentances, which Im sure only close family understand, but it does make me so proud.

Ruth and Josh came to play with us at 10.30 and we had a lovely morning just chatting and watching the two boys play together.


Da Boyz!!

After lunch, which I cooked, with Nigela like precision, we all headed off, Ruth and Josh back home and me to drop Dylan off at Mums so I could head on to Sing and sign.

The latter part of the afternoon/evening was spent watching my mum and dad playing with Dylan. The do dote on him and it makes my heart smile to see how much he loves them too.


Cuddles from Nanma San

Nanma is constantly hounded to "come play" and she is not allowed to sit down for five minutes on her own. Not that she minds this of course, encouraging him to jump and bounce around the house like a small hooligan on acid.

Gandie and he are just mates, playing chase, hiding and sharing fruit.


"Its mine" - "No its mine"

Im ready to go back to work.

Yep, its official, one of the outcomes of the work fiasco was that I had to go through Occupational Health to decide how and when I returned to work. The last time I went I had a meeting with a very officious bloke, who was more interested in the sound of his own voice than actually discussing what my situation and needs were. So to put it bluntly I was not looking forward to this meeting.

The letter asked you to get there 10 mins early, which I did, I then sat for another 30 mins waiting for the arrival of said bore. Each passing moment made me more angry and I spent all the time twisting my hair, biting my fingers and going through the things I would say to the officious ole bugger.

Then this lovely smily lady turned up, full of applogies, she asked me to come with her and situated me in her office, apologising again for the delay and saying how she "understood how angry I would be feeling"...

My anger slowly subsided and I was left smiling along with Ethelda Brown. Before too long I was telling her about the last couple of years. She sat writing notes and nodding and I kept thinking "God Shannon, shut up, you sound like a real hypercondriac with serious reality issues".

But once I had run out of breath she smiled, sat back and said "My God, what a couple of years you've gone through". Then she proceeded to discuss with me my best options for return, ways to relax at night time and how to cope with returning to work and leaving Dylan.

I left feeling that I hadnt been totally crap these last five months, that actually things had been addressed and I had come out of it feeling stronger and more able to cope with life.

Its amazing how a nice smile and understanding nod can change your perception on things.

Im going back to work - Its official

Met up this morning with Mick, Chris (Big Bos) and Suzanne Hayward from HR. Kinda went the way I expected it, things Mick had previously said were changed, so I looked like a very paranoid wretch, and had totally misunderstood his comments - whats new there then!!!

But the basic outcome is that once I have had my meeting with Occupational Health I'm going back for 3 days a week, to be arranged with Manager at Howdon Community centre, and I will be working as an ICT facilitator.

Howdon is a good centre, so Im actually looking forward to it, the staff there are great and the punters who were coming in for the sessions I was doing there seemed really eager and very enthusiastic about ICT.

All good news then.

Just can't help wishing I could find that 68yr old millionaire with a heart defect, then I would have to go back.

2 is the Magic number.

Yes today my bambino turned two.



We had such a lovely day. This morning he got out of his own bed and came into my bedroom "Ma - milk". We went downstairs and had a leisurely breakfast then I began the "get ready" for the quiet family party I had invited folks too.

Now this has actually caused a bone of contention in my family, because in two weeks time I'm going to have a joint party with some of the girls I know whose babies are born around the same time. I decided that today then would just be Mum, dad, Keefe (Cough) me and Dylan opening cards and presents. But everyone else in my family seemed to think that I needed to have cake and invite at least a few of his friends to celebrate the big day. To keep the peace I invited, last thing last night, the girls from my NCT group - even though they too would be coming to his joint party, and a new acquaintance Renata, with her lovely son, Danny.

Dylan and I headed off to the shops to fill up on party food and a cake tin. You can't make a cake without a cake tin. Shopping has become somewhat torturous. Dylan hates being in a trolley and even following Dr Tania's advise and taking things to distract him or offer him to eat, we still have a bit of a battle on our hands. Luckily he doesn't do much screaming and tantrum throwing and when it happens I'm getting better at calming and distracting "Oooh Dylan look bake beans"

So recyclable bags filled and Dylan once again contained in the trolley I headed off home with great resolve about cooking Dylan's cake. I had decided to make a carrot cake, not your traditional birthday cake, but he loves carrot cake at the moment.

In true "Shannon madness" the recipe didn't work and instead of a plump raised cake I had a thin slice of uck. The filling and topping were a crime to culinary skills and it looked like I was heading towards a true cake disaster.

Dylan was running round my legs, wholewheat flower was flying everywhere and the carrots were running low. I decided on the ole "two layers is better than one" I made another layer, filled the middle with orange butter spread, covered the top in a Delia based recipe and plonked a candle on the top "Walllahhhhhh"

I had brought food for all 14 of us and proceeded to cook a batch of chicken legs, Indian bits and pieces and making the filling for sandwiches. In the middle of basting chicken legs and sorting our ribs Ruth texted to say that sadly she wouldn't be able to make it.

I hoovered and quickly cleaned the house, or at least the bits of the house that people might go into. Next text - Danny and Renate wouldn't be coming! Hmm just hoping that those coming will be hungry.

Dylan was more than happy during my domestic trials and tribulations to play with his new cooker. Even though I had said to everyone "DO NOT BUY PRESENTS" I had succumbed myself and brought him a cooker, quite fab and he loves it.

Keefe collected Dylan at 12 to "take him off my hands for an hour or so, taking him to Adventure Land to run him ragged".

Cake disaster diverted, food cooking and house relatively clean at 2pm I felt as if I was "in control", normally I would be reaching for the wine at this stage in the firm belief that a party doesn't swing without alcohol, but for some reason being drunk didn't hang properly.

Mum and dad turned up with the tent, yes I did say tent and Weebles castle.

They just don't make them like they used too!

We blew up balloons, cooked the last of the food, stuck up banners an generally got the house ready. Just after 2.30 Keefe turned up with Dylan and his Thomas the Tank engine track, with 20 balloons the house was getting rather full. Dylan ooh'ed and ahhh'ed through the whole process, loving it.

At 3pm Annette turned up with a trampoline. Fiona and Thomas turned up soon after and it was official the house was full - I kinda thanked my lucky stars that Ruth and Renate hadn't been able to make it.

The party, if I say so myself was fab, Orla, Thomas and Dylan ran round like hooligans, playing in the tent.


Thomas, a tent and twenty balloons.

Jumping on trampolines and causing the cats to have an apoplexy. There was food a plenty, conversation flowed and it seemed that everyone had a great time.

My carrot cake was a hit!!!



By 6pm the house was almost back to normal, Dylan lay supine on the sofa with his bottle of milk an contented look on his face. He looked so happy. We, or should I say, ate the last of the party food, bathed and then watched an hour of Winnie the Pooh.

The perfect ending to a somewhat chaotic but perfect day!

A song in D-miner.

Some times when listneing to a song you want to add your own verses......


Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I

kissed your husband/partner/live in lover.


Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I slep with yoooooooour best mate...

Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I slept with yourrrr uncle....


Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I said I dont love you

Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I said now is not the time
Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I said "where were YOU?"

Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby

Would you love me

ifff....

I said "hold me tight"


Would you love meeeee
Would you love me baby
Would you love me baby ifff....

Loosing a baby once is misfortune...

Loosing a baby twice is just plain stupid. Yes following our little bit of excitement on Sunday I had yet another incident today.

Keefe and a work colleague of his were kind enough to drop off a single bed from mums. I've decided to move Dylan back into the little bedroom, in the hope that the smaller room and smaller bed will encourage him to sleep in his own room. Anyway, the bed was put into his, almost, decorated room and we played together for about an hour in there.

I came downstairs to make a cup of tea and started playing with the computer... after all he was safe upstairs. About 20 minutes passed and I went back up stairs because there wasn't a single sound coming from the bedroom. He wasn't there.

I searched in all the cupboards - he has started to hide - I searched in all the bedrooms, I searched in the bathroom. I came downstairs and searched in all the rooms. Where could a little boy be hiding?

I went back up stairs feeling a slow panic creeping in. I searched all the rooms again, under the beds, behind the curtains, calling for him.

NOTHING!

I ran downstairs, the back door was closed, the front door was closed.

I ran back upstairs and looked in all the rooms again, under the beds, behind the curtains, could I have missed him?

NOTHING.

Then I went into the spare room, in panic I pulled out the bed, the cupboard, the chair and there he was fast asleep on the floor. He must have gone in there to hide and crashed. I picked him up and took him back to his room.

God I'm not sure I can do this mothering thing. I'm spending most of my time in a state of panic! Is it allowable to tie your child to your hip!!!

I lost my baby!

Today I met up with Annette to do a quick walk - we had a bit of a meander around Tynemouth station, there is a small market that takes place on Saturdays and Sundays its full of bric a brac and bits and pieces, some of it nice, some of it nasty, but its generally a nice meander.

Dylan was given his obligatory pennies and he decided to buy something for Orla (Bless his little cotton socks) whilst paying the man for the green teddy bear I let go of Dylan's hand - for two seconds, or at least as long as it takes to take the money out of my purse, hand it over and thank the bloke - and bam, my son had gone.

I have to admit to panicking, I ran to Annette, "Dylan's gone", we both scanned the area in panic. No sign, I ran back to the stall, the bloke hadn't seen which way he had gone, he asked his friend on another stall - No sign.

I just kept shouting "He's two, small, blond, curls, blue eyes, he's wearing a bright orange jacket". No one had seen him. I spotted two police 'people' circling the stalls and ran to them "My baby is gone". The young woman office looked at me and in one second took in the total panic. "Its ok, what does he look like"....

"He's two, small, blond, curls, blue eyes, he's wearing a bright orange jacket".

"Is that him, over there". I turned to see my wayward wanderer happily perusing a box of toys. I ran to him, I grabbed him, I cried...

The police officer came over to me "Are you ok? I know exactly how you feel, Ive a little one about the same age... do you need a cup of tea?".

I know it sounds stupid, but I really did feel totally at a loss. In those few moments I had found his little body and buried him, had a nervous breakdown and plummeted into deep depression, ending up being eaten by cats and that would be my just deserts for being such a bad mother!!!!

Beach Play

Dylan is cutting down on his sleep - I think! He doesnt seem to want to sleep through the day, but this means that sometimes he crashes out way too late, like 4pm. Which means that he doesnt want to go to bed on time cause he is still wired. So Im attempting to ensure that he doesnt crash late afternoon, by keeping him active from his afternoon nap up till bed time.

This afternoon Annette and I went to the beach, a little walk by the sea - great!!!



Dylan had other ideas though, walking was definitely not something on his mind. Walking knee deep into the water was on his mind,



sitting in the water was on his mind, lying in the water - yep that was there too...



After 20 mins of chasing waves and laughing like idiots Dylan announced he was wet, cried his heart out and then allowed me to change him. Sometimes you just dont know what to do for best.

Im going to be a God Mother...

I'm a bit overwhelmed, today Annette asked me if I would be Orla's Godmother, I cried, we hugged, she laughed at me.

I'm so very, very proud and honoured and all of that stuff...

Now, the serious bit - what the hell does a Godmother do!!!!


Babies Beautiful


A bit of DIY at home with the Missus


Orla at home in Switzerland

Old McDonald had a farm...

Its half term and we know that most places would be manic, so we set off today for the Whitehouse Farm, reasoning that its big and even with crowds it wouldn't be too chaotic. Its about 30 mins up the A1 and a rather pleasant drive, Annette and I meandered through the usual diverse range of conversations, I'm not sure if its because she is Swiss, or just because we get along so well, but we have the most strangest, honest, revealing conversations. Never a dull moment!!

Any Hoo - we got to Whitehouse farm and waited in line with all the other 100's of mummies and daddies who had had the same idea (bugger them). Dylan was very non British and decided after 10 mins of waiting in line that the best thing to do was run down to the beginning of the que and push on through. Most folks thought it was funny, but there were a few who tutted at this blatant show of "pushing in".

Hauled back and made to stand in line he winged and whined about "PIG". We eventually got to the paying in Shed to find one very harassed lady - my inability to provide my membership card didn't go down too well and we were eventually just waved through - she obviously had far too much to deal with!

Once inside we viewed the giant rabbits, the goats

Don't be scared little goat, I'm your friend


Can't you tell she is farm born and bred!


Be nice goaty or the sheep gets the lot

The budgies, the PIGS, the wallabies, the deer (Dylan still insists that they are goats), the sheep


With a Ba, Ba here and

the cows


Annette and Dylan with a Swiss Cow.

"Moooo-ving on"

It really is a gorgeous place to meander and very child friendly. Dylan and Orla loved interacting with the animals, I think Annette enjoys it too....ohhh go on, and me too!


"Go on, do your Cow again Dylan"

Squeals of joy pervaded the afternoon and both babes tried out their growing vocab and noises - "MOOOOOOO"

We had a frantic meal, service in the canteen was little better than the entrance shed, and then headed off for a meandering drive back through the countryside. God I'm so lucky to have places like this to visit and friends like these to go with.

Valentines Day.

Valentine's Day is a holiday celebrated on February 14. In North America and Europe, it is the traditional day on which lovers express their love for each other by sending Valentine's cards, presenting flowers, or offering confectionery. The holiday is named after two early Christian martyrs named Valentine. The day became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished.

Valentines Day - The day of declairing love, of sharing with your partner, lover, husband, wife, significant other that you love them.

Why just on this day?

I woke this morning expecting nothing, Im not in a situation to be loaded down with cards and flowers. But my one conciliation was knowing that I probably wouldn’t be the only girl in the world, who wasn’t waiting for the postman to come to my door laden with gifts. And in a way that made me happy.

Annette and Susan confirmed my suspicion that romance dies soon after child birth by declaring that their partners had not exactly bestowed gifts of flowers, chocolates and Diamonds upon them.... not even a card.

But we discussed it and we all agreed that it was really just another poopy commercialisation, a day when flowers cost the earth and those who haven’t got anyone to adore and love are made to feel inadequate.

Who needs it?

I got home to have my next door neighbour deliver a huge box with a lovely red ribbon tied around it, upon opening my box of loveliness out popped a balloon, in the box was a little fibre optic bracelet - the sort 16 year olds wear on the dance floor to show how cool they are, some little chocolates, a little light - no idea what it does a red rose and some rose petals.

You should have seen my smile - God Im a hypocrite.

I have since discovered who my anonymous admirer is - and that’s my secret, but I can say it wasn’t Colin Firth....

One month on and

Im tired, stressed and it’s primarily my fault. I have come to realise that a lot of my problems start with my inability to deal with stuff straight on. I have to ponder on it, mulch it round, have constant conversations with myself, deciding the outcomes of conversations with other people, to - in short - totally fuck up the situation and not act when I should.

Im supposed to be going back to work, I went in to see my Dr and discussed my return with him, and I was all set for it. Then I met up with my Mick (he of the Tatehood) and flammy (Yes that is Flammy).

When it comes down to the basics things at work are changing and my position is going to be one of the positions that change. But in the interim, no one can tell me what Im supposed to do, or when these changes will happen. So Im in limbo, but as far as Mick was concerned I would be returning to work on the 3rd March full time. Now there has been no discussion on this, no "consultation". He just sent me a letter and told me to sign it.

I’ve spent the last two weeks panicking because I needed to sort out child care for Dylan, I was contemplating life as a full time worker - not having any quality time with Dylan and it made me weep. It made me stressed, it’s made me have many a sleepless night cause Im chewing the cud on "what ifs" and "Whys".

But yesterday I took the bull by the horns and confronted my fears; I call occupational Health and queried my return. They knew nothing of it. Then I called my Union rep (Yes Bruvvers Im a fully paid up member) and my Union rep thinks that everything that is happening to me is "bullying" and "not in accordance to procedures". She has taken the bit between her teeth and is out for blood.

I’ve no idea if this means I dont have to go back to work, Im hoping a phased return will be given to me, which will mean I return to work slowly... Im hoping that they will be able to negotiate with work and get me my part time hours... Im hoping.

Dylan is so growed up

Today I went out with Annette, we played in a park, or should I say Dylan and Orla played in a park (I only went down the big slide once) and then we went for a coffee.

On the way home I snapped this pic of Dylan and Orla

Juvenile Delinquents in training - I can hear the ASBO's hitting the floor!

Im living with Keefe again.

Ha, how many of you just splutterd all over the computer board! That sentance is enough to make anyone splutter, but its just a convenience thing. His convenience my stupidity.

Every year the caravan site closes down for 8 weeks, usually we have stayed at mums, but this year for some sick and unknown reason I offered my home as refuge. Its going to be hard.

We had a huge argument the day before he moved in, he was rude, arrogant and totally unrespectful - but then I am a selfish "oscar" who thinks the world should do whatever I want.

Hmmm going to fun over the next 6 weeks.

Simple Friends Vs Real Friends

A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.

A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A simple friend doesn't know your parents' first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.

A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes >early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.

A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.

A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.

A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.

A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend calls you after you had a fight.

A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you!

Sometimes I have to wonder if Im a real friend or a simple friend to some of my friends....

Blue Reefe Aquarium.

In our search to find something to do that might entertain the bairns I have become a member of the aquarium in Cullercoats, it used to have a bit of a crappy reputation, but either being totally desperate and needing somewhere to take my nearly 2 year old has changed my perception or this place has actually improved over the years since I last went there.

There are lots of fish to see, some very beautiful and some a bit bizarre, there is also a seal tank, which I'm kinda against, but hey ho (wind your neck in)



Seals - Where?


WooooooW

and an otter thang, which stinks to high heaven - have to say that to date I have never seen an otter.

It kills a good hour and Dylan always seems to have fun running round and hiding from me. I actually spend most of my time in the aquarium in mid panic, imagining that I'm going to get round the corner after chasing my somewhat elusive son to find him swimming in one of the tanks.

Anyway Annette, Orla, Ruth, Josh, Dylan and I all headed down there today for a walk around and the obligatory coffee.


Orla and Josh looking at Sharks


Ruth and Josh

Today, the babes seemed more interested in the bit of a swing park

Ruth and Orla just hanging!

Dylan convinced Josh that playing in the shrubs was much more fun that the silly slide,


They seek him here....


Where is that Dylan gone?

All in all a rather pleasant day.

Boobs gone bad - NHS Even worse!

Well it’s been another of those days that makes me wonder why and if Im really getting my life back together again. I spent the morning with Helene and Archie, Groine and Fin and Emily, Ellie and Ella. We had major fun running round Kikis like idiots, sliding down slides and paddling through the ball pools.

A couple of times I felt quite sore, but all it all it actually felt quite good to be out and about again. Dylan loved the interaction with the other kids and I was surprised at how he was playing with them. Over the last couple of weeks he has, along with me, been pretty house bound. We got out a few times, but I was unable to play with him or really bounce around how we usually do.

Anyway, 2 hours of playing and we were almost ready to leave, only Dylan discovered the paint table and wailed to be allowed to play. After 20 mins of painting almost everything in site including the chair, his hair and his top I decided enough was enough. Everyone was staring at us as if I was mad to let my child carry on in this bohemian way. I loved it, he loved it and the mess he made would be easily cleared up.

Just as we were leaving Jo, with Solomon and Helen with Raphael came in. I haven’t seen Jo or Sol for months – Solomon’s birthday me thinks, which was in October. So we played for another 20 mins, Solomon showed Dylan how to bump down the stairs on his belly – looking forward to him doing that at home and I caught up with Jo.

So why all the explanation, well whilst I was running round like a mad un, my boobs were feeling really sore. Every now and then I would get a shooting pain right from my nipple. I kinda, in my usual way just ignored the bally thing. But by 3 o’clock this afternoon I decided enough was enough and I exposed my breasts to my mother.

She took one look and called the Drs. I bumbled of to see Dr Mac at 5.30. He took another look and explained that I was going to have to be admitted to hospital cause me slight infection from earlier on had got worse and with me already being on oral antibiotics I was now going to have to hit the big time – intravenous drip…. YIPEEE!

So off me poodled, bag packed thinking I would be admitted pretty quick as they had already agreed I had a bed. But no… 4hrs later Im sat here typing on my little puter cause Im bored witless and don’t want to read my book in case I can’t access my puter on the ward.

The only thing that is keeping me entertained is spider on my puter and the drunk running round A&E yelling "KEEEEE-A-Gannnnn - he's our man. For those of you who dont do football (snigger that includes me) Keving Keegan has apparently just taken over as Manager for Newcastle - and this is a good thing.

God somebody save me Im talking football!!!

Im living with Keefe again.

Ha, how many of you just spluttered all over the computer board! That sentence is enough to make anyone splutter, but its just a convenience thing. His convenience, my stupidity.

Every year the caravan site closes down for 8 weeks, usually we have stayed at mums, but this year for some sick and unknown reason I offered my home to him. It made sense at the time (I may have been on heavy doses of drugs).

Anyway following a wonderful argument last night, he almost didn’t move in - long story and one far to annoying to blog about - but today he condescended to move into mine as his stuff was already there. Like I give a flying fart!

We have spent the afternoon being very polite and side stepping issues like rules. Im definitely going to have to sit down with him and set out some of the things I really would like him to do - cause already he is annoying the hell out of me.

Time will tell, a hatchet in the head will tell more.

Gone!!

It was a week ago that I had my stitches removed, and today whilst picking up the up the wee man. I felt confident, I felt great, we played, I jiggled him about, I kissed...

That night after bathing the wee chap I was holding him against me. He placed his hands down my top, he furked around... he looked at me... he furked some more... and then he said "Gone"... "Where". And I explained.....


Two days later, we played, I threw him up in the air.... I brought him down and I sat him on my hip - like all mummies hold their babies - and I split... couple of steristrips applied by the wonderful mummy, along with the knowing smile and "14 days to heal outside... 6 weeks to heal inside" and I was sorted.

God I hate it when mummies are right.

Three days later I was at the Dr's for a check up and the nurse booked me in for an immediate appointment... its hot and red.

I bared my boobs to Dr Mac (My latest God) who said "god they're gorgeous...hmmm infected... hmmm ...antibiotics".. Best thing he said was " you can drink on these though" - he knows me so well!

So this is me... infected, sightly less confident but still loving the whole thing.

The boobs are released

Its now been three weeks since my operation, this morning I got my mummy to take some pics of my boobs - dressings included. There hasn't been much pain, just soreness. I had a slight accident picking Dylan up and had a little tear, but a steristip soon covered the damage and I was back on track.

SO.... with all the "are you going to post pics" emails, Im baring all....and it ain't pretty.



The shadow underneath is bruising... promise... its not fat...

Stitches out.

The 27th of December dawned and I headed off to the hospital again, this time to have the stitches removed and the dressing checked.

Took myself off with a box of chocolates and a thank you card for the staff of ward 46. I eventually found the ward, sadly non of the staff who looked after me were on shift, but I left the chocolates and headed off to the outpatients dept.

The nurse I saw - Shelly - took me into a little room and again I undressed. Im begining to get used to taking off my clothes for complete strangers, maybe I should think about a career change.

My stitches, unbeknown to me, were dissoluble ones. Once the dressings were removed, there I was in all my glory. I could hardly believe how little scaring or bruising I had. Shelly put on some soft dressing stuff that holds the cuts together like stitches but doesn't actually invade the body. That was it. I was cleaned up a bit, Shelly said how good everything looked, and on with my clothes.

In a weeks time I'm allowed to have proper bath, which will dissolve the dressing stuff, from then on I have to follow these rules for the next four weeks:
Don't drive.
Don't lift anything heavy.
Don't do anything that hurts!

Easier said than done.

Christmas, pain and alcohol free - almost

The last couple of days have been a real pain in the boobs - Gosh get me the comedian. Ive been on pain killers much of the time, so pretty spaced out and sleeping for England. It hurts to move my arms, my back hurts, my head hurts and most of all my bally lips hurt. The swelling on my boobs and lips is finally starting to go down. Mum has been pretty fantastic, keeping me fed, cleaned and controlling Dylan.

I guess the hardest thing has been not holding Dylan, not being able to pick him up when he fell over, or cuddle him when he was going off to sleep. Mum has had him in her bed at nights and Ive really missed waking up with the little bloke. Mind you she hasnt had the best of sleeps with him in her bed and I really couldnt thank her enough for looking after him. But have to admit that all in all things have been hard. Ive attempted to help at times, but most of the time all Ive been able to do is potter round the house moving a glass here, a cup there. I couldn't even open my beloved coke bottles without assistance.

Shane came home for Christmas, so he helped mum with the Christmas dinner. Keefe dropped the wee man off at about 11ish Christmas morning, I was fretting to open the Christmas presents, but Dylan chose to sleep. Bugger!

He finally woke up at 1o'clock and the unwrapping began. As normal I'd told everyone not to buy anything much and as normal everyone ignored me.



Dylan got:

A Boat


A cleaning set - perfect gift for my perfect man.


A Tweenies bathset, some stickly bricks, lots of puzzles, a fire engine and

Pumkin - Gandie had a go on him

Nanny San had a go on him


Then Dylan had a go on him.

My best present was cuddles from my wee man.

Christmas dinner was the usual triumph I have come to expect when mum and Shane get together in the Kitchen.



Far too much food, far too much richness and far too many yummies. However only a few glasses of the good stuff were imbibed, due to me on pain killers, Dad's diabetes and Mum just not drinking.

It was a lovely day though and as Dylan went down to bed I lay with him in my arms tonight, for the first time in what seemed like ages, full of bonhomie and good cheer.


Happy Christmas everyone!

The big Operation

Well I set off for the hospital with dad, because traffic in Newcastle was horrible, we were going in on the metro. Ive not been on the metro for ages it was actually quite nice. Had a chat with dad, stressed about the operation, bit my nails...

Dad took me to buy two new bra's. 34DD and 34E. Its been years since Ive brought a bra in a "normal" store, it was quite exciting, so many choices. Of course I had been told my the hospital that I needed to purchase sports bras, but the idea of purchasing something pretty, with lace and matching pants in months to come made me really happy. I left dad to do the rest of his shopping and with my ruck sack headed up to the hospital. I hate hospitals, so walked with some trepidation up to ward 46,"Sorry" they said, "you've been moved to ward 46". I headed back down the corridor with my head thrumming. Did I really want this operation, did I really need it? Couldn't I just carry on how I was, was I so wrong? I stood in the hallway for about 5 minutes talking myself into and out of the operation. Eventually I took my courage in my hands and pushed open the doors.

The staff on ward 46 were lovely, I even had my own room, with on suite bathroom. My god, all on NHS. Within a hour of me being in they had took my blood, done my pre-op shots and I was just sat waiting for Mr Collis to show up. A very nice young lady came and asked if I minded donating my spare flesh, so they could do some tests and stuff to find the cure for something or other and I happily signed away my excess boobs.

Dad dropped in to see how it was all going and got me a book. As he was arriving back with the book Mr Collis turned up. You have to tell Drs the truth, Ive seen "House" and know people do lie to their Drs, but I tend to deal with those in the medical profession as demi-gods. So when he asked me if I smoked I admitted to smoking occasionally - erm... quite often... well almost daily. Dad looked at me with shock - "You smoke!"

That little shock out the way nothing else mattered, so when Mr Collis asked me if he could see my breasts I immediately whipped em out - as you do! He then got out a black felt tip pen and proceeded to draw on me. Nipples, cut marks, explaining how and what he was going to do. "I've got a small op to do at 5, then will come for you, your my main attraction" he said with a confidant smile and a bit of a twinkle.

I was given one of those lovely hospital robes, which cover nothing and told "We'll be back to pick you up soon". The head anaesthetist came in and introduced himself to me, did I have any questions "No", did I understand what was going to happen "Yes", was I happy? "Maybe". 5pm came all to quickly, I sat attempting to read my book remaining calm.

Its strange how slowly the clock can tick, when your dreading something. But before I knew it, the door was opening Margaret walked in "come on Shannon, we're off to Surgery". We walked, me trying not to show my ass to the other ward occupants and Margaret chatting away about Christmas. My friendly anaesthetist was there with his team, chatting to me like I was just out for a walk. "Pop up on here, take off your jewellery, socks, any thing else you want to ask us?".

Lets do it then, said the little assistant guy with a cheeky smile "Just a small prick, but don't hold it against me". I laughed ....

Four hours later I was waking up. God I hurt, especially my lips, my first thought was bugger I cant feel my lips, my second was "who the heck is that whistling Christmas songs". It was a nurse called Marie - who was so smiley and calming. "Shannon can you hear me, don't move, your operation went really well, Im just looking after you until you feel a bit less drowsy. You did really well." Im just going to give you some more morphine...."

I woke up again back in my room. Michelle and Tracy both shuffling round me, moving me with care. "Shannon, welcome back, you did great, how do you feel?" "hmrrrgh ... ghmrrr... happyrmmrmr". "THats good Shannon, you just lie there me and Tracy will check on you reguarly" "Water?" "Yehfhhf"

Were just going to give you some more pain killers.... mmmmmhhhhhhmmmmm.

I woke, my head like a brick. My eyes focused on the glass of water and I pushed out my hand. Water, spilled.. Michelle and Tracy in like a shot cleaning me up, changing the sheets, laughing at my bungling speech, which was finally coming back. My lips still felt like they didn't belong to me, my tongue didn't seem to know how to move in my mouth. And my chest... well that looked damn small!!!

My little drip seemed to ease most of the pain and every now and then either Michelle or Tracy would come in and administer something yummy that made the world go into fluffy mode.

I woke relatively late (from my experience in hospitals)about 7.30 by Michelle bringing me breakfast. "Can you eat? How do you feel? How are your lips?". Apparently I had kept them in stitches talking about my lips and how I was going to be the next Angelina Jole lookalike. I don't remember any of it, but I had, through the night, managed to get myself out of bed and go into the toilet. I had seen my lips and freaked cause they were really, really, really big. Both girls had to assure me that they hadn't got the operation wrong and plumped up my lips instead of getting rid of my boobs.

They thought it was hilarious. I did too, until I saw the bloody things. I was less Angelina Jole and more Lesley Ash after her little run in with Collagen. Not a pretty sight.

On the whole though, apart from my lips hurting like hell. I actually felt quite good. I had had a bleed through the night, but there was extra padding added and it felt good. My boobs were small, what did I expect, but not too small. The pain seemed manageable and I was looking forward to going home. There was alot of humming and harring. Mr Collis came, with a shed load of pimple faced students and checked out my new boobs. "Very nice" was the general consensus. "Can I go home now?" "Lets see how you are in an hour or so".

My friendly anaesthetist came in and asked how I was...I complained about my lips (ungrateful wretch that I am) he laughed and explained that I had had a really bad reaction to the anesthetic and spasmed, chomping down on my lips once the tube had been removed and thrashing like crazy - hence the additional night time care and concern about me going home.

"I feel fine, really, apart from my lips".

Pretty soon after Michelle came in to say good bye and tell me that I "was free to go". I made a call to mum and dad and packed myself up. I got dressed, a bit of a trail, and sat myself down to watch the last 30 minutes of my TV allotted time. My stay in the hospital had been great, yes read it and weep, I had a good stay. Everyone was lovely, they kept me informed and I didn't at any time feel out of control or at a loss. Annemarie, the ward sister came in with my pain killers and cleared me free to go. Dad turned up and I tenderly walked from Ward 46, feeling like a new woman.

Boobs.

Lots of people ask my why I want this operation, and I kinda give the usual backache, headaches, cant run, cant cross my arms or get clothes to fit... Its all of these things and a little bit more. I hate the way I look in a mirror. I look uneven - odd a thing of disparity. If I wear a tight top I get comments of complete strangers like "ohhh - you don't get many of them to a pound love", or " Wooooaaar, Id love to loose myself in there - wouldn't come out for a year". Incidentally I have lost things down the front of my top - mainly food - but sometimes its just not seen as polite to go "furking" down your front.

Well, and this is me being brave, not being porno or 'Readers wives', I've had a friend take a couple of shots - so I can look back and say "Yes girl, it was the right decision".

Here are my before shots (they are not pretty) - the after shots will follow in a few months.

Lipstick on your collar...

Well actually on my mirror, the bath, the hallway, his face, my leather sofa and the TV...

But boy did we laugh.