You don't want to go out today? That's perfect, kiddo.

Note the (Clearly handed to me by reasonably more fashionable Mum) polo neck covering.... I am selfie ready, people.

I did a parenting.
Well, I say parenting.... more horrendously inappropriate and not-thought through decision making fest. Wine induced, obviously. And I'm paying for it now, literally and metaphorically.

I'm taking Small to Disneyland Paris for Easter. Clearly thought this one through. Mum took me as a 6ish year old when pregnant with the Sibling as a surprise. Other than nostalgic memory lane-ing and a fuck ton of inflation, I presume it'll be the same.... pretty, princessy, cotton wool and squealing Angries that don't belong to you so you can't not-parent them (so, effectively that's just scowl at their mad face and revoke all teenage privileges in advance).

I mean, it could have been worse.
I couldn't book the Shit-but-great Turkish hotel from 2017 this far in advance.... and had fingerlust.
-Alas, these days meaning nothing more but thumbing the CSV code with great (and RSI inducing) flourish.

I bought a calendar, complete with achievement stickers. I opted out of gold stars, but that's an entire other blog post....

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Sayōnara Japan! Our last day in this wonderful place 🇯🇵

It's midday, guess I did need that sleep, the classical cat music blurring through my brain still as I jolt awake thinking I've missed the flights. Small's been waiting patiently and decided on the one of two outfits I left her and I've wrenched myself out of bed. I surprise her with a little visit to the rooftop terrace where she's wowed by the views, as am I, with the Tokyo Sky tree clearly visible in the background and skyscraper after skyscraper lacing the vast heights that we're surrounded by. Off we set walking to make something of the day and we find her much-loved chicken sticks for brunch. We then head to Harajuku to visit the Meiji-Jingu shrine, after 3 visits that left us no time to do so and I'm extremely glad that we did make it. The huge Torii gates beckoning us towards the shrine are set atop a backdrop of ancient reaching trees and beautiful woodland area. It's so elaborately decorated with masses of gold edging and old dark wood imma...

Holiday blues

A month down the line. It's hard to believe that a month ago today we were both well in the depths of the most horrific long haul flight I'd never imagined I'd be mopping sick up on, navigating tiny aisles and even tinier seats with my lardy arse, or that we were about to embark on a holiday of a lifetime. Let alone, be stuck on the other side of the world in charge of a frothing loud and hyperactive Small for ten days, with not even a sniff of another responsible adult to take the slack. But we did, and it's done. And it's been really weird being home. Japan is the only place that less-than-stable 20-something me would've easily spontaneously gotten on a plane and never returned from, and I'm feeling the pull still even as a semi-conscious semi-adult 30-something, so it must have been decent. We've acquired this cute little mama-Small delusion where we'll still faux plan a day exploring the suburbs, like we're waltzing around bustling Ueno r...

I breastfed an abandoned premmie found wedged in a wall running it to the closest SCBU: 10 days into feeling like my soul has been pulled out of my ass.

I wake up cold and panicked, tits tingling. The familiar nail dragging sensation only ever comparable to the oxytocin-induced equivalent of the "not my daughter, you bitch" gut-punch feeling of seeing your kid been punched in the face by an unnamed Shitbag at a kid's party, her Everything imploding with the resounding and soul crumbling thud- an autonomic readiness to wager the war you "never signed up for". ------ To be factual, I neither found myself walking towards the underpass, Ginnel... (Gin-uhl, jenn-ell, debate it like Yorkshire 'picky tea' on the night you perused Casualty Corner before food shop day)..... -between two Northern terraces, nor did I actually find and/or rescue a 35 week preemie newborn swaddled in stained towels within a nook of a semi-crumbled wall alongside and leading to said 'ginnel'. Now, I wouldn't describe myself as Mother Theresa, far from it, but waking up panicking about the potential demise o...

Mirth and crumbly cheese

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