General ranting. It is good for the soul. At least, it’s good for mine. Short term, before the guilt sets in.

I’ve got odd socks on today. Not that I have OCD or anything, but this does not bode well.

So, this past few weeks, I have mostly been ranting. I have ranted at Richard. I have ranted at the children. I have ranted at my INR nurses.  I have ranted at complete strangers at the bus station. I have, naturally, ranted all over Facebook. That’s why it was invented. Well, for rants and LOLcats.

wrong

I can’t help myself. Seriously. Some people can’t keep their sticky paws out of the biscuit barrel, I can’t stop myself shouting my big gob off when I see something that makes my blood boil. So, in no particular order, here are some of the people who copped it this week. *

*Reading enjoyment enhanced, once again, by listening to this.

1. Mothers who like to tell everyone that they are better than other mothers, because they breastfeed / use cloth nappies / feed their darlings an organic raw vegan diet / have a three year old fluent in Mandarin Chinese / don’t innoculate / homeschool / don’t homeschool. Seriously. Get a grip. You are not better, you are different.

2. Mothers who are sickeningly judgemental about other parenting choices; who insult, demean and upset others under the guise of ‘education’, who then get dreadfully butthurt about other parents deciding to fight back.

3. People who claim to be ever so environmentally friendly whilst driving their Chelsea tractors to a shop / school / club that’s five minutes walk away. Eco credentials typically include: owning a compost bin they never actually use; remembering to turn the 42 inch plasma screen off at the wall at least once a week; having once bought a recycled Christmas ornament made by a co-operative of disabled ex prostitutes in India from the Natural Collection catalogue; and pretending they never shop at Primark.

4. People who claim to never, ever buy The Sun. Until they are doing their cheap holidays, when morals fly conveniently out of the window. I personally cannot think of anything worse than being shoe-horned into a holiday park featured more regularly on Watchdog than TalkTalk with hundreds of other people who buy The Sun.

5. The English Defence League, the Scottish Defence League, the idiot Infidels, and all the other splinter groups formed from a bunch of hateful, racist, drunken thugs who can’t stop fighting drunkenly amongst themselves long enough to form a cohesive group. I don’t even argue with them, I just laugh at them. I am, however, apparently on Red Watch (if the incredibly badly spellzed private Facebook message from some foaming knuckledragger is to be believed). Seriously, I am terrified.

<End rant. This ironing is making no sudden moves to suddenly iron itself, and my odd socks are starting to make me twitch. Normal service will resume soon.>

bitch

 

 

 

 

 

 

Could you spare a moment?

It’s ‘Ask A Favour’ time…..

A very dear friend of mine is currently conducting a survey into perceptions of unassisted childbirth / freebirthing; and if you – dear reader – could spare a minute of your time to give your thoughts, it would be hugely appreciated. You don’t have to be a parent or have any experience of unassisted childbirth, and all responses are anonymous.

Details of the survey are here.

Many, many thanks.

 

And so to February…

It has been a funny couple of weeks. Well, three weeks, but who’s counting?

This post was mostly going to be a Round-Robinesque rattle-off of ‘fings wot huv happened’ in the past three weeks or so, just to get my head back on track. The problem, I find, is that when you don’t write a blog for a few days, you suddenly realise you don’t know how to pick it back up again. So, today I am going to concentrate on being a Dryathlete for Cancer Research UK.

See this, doubters? SEE THIS.

See this, doubters? SEE THIS.

So, today is February 1st. This officially means that Cancer Research UK’s Dryathlon is OVER. As you can see from the above, I managed it. I bloody managed it. I did not need a Golden Pass, either. (Of course, much of this is because I do not have a social life to speak of).

At time of writing, my JustGiving page lists my total raised so far at £560.25 (including Gift Aid); which I am absolutely astonished with. Of course, I could not have done this without support and donations from so many of you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for having the belief in me to donate to this very worthy cause.

It’s been quite a month; and, to be honest, I am a little sad that it is over. It has proved to me that I am one of these people who really needs a public challenge to boot my bum out of a rut; but, conversely, it has also shown me that I have more willpower than I thought I had. After all, I could have used my Golden Pass (where a paid donation allowed you to drink). Hell, I could have cheated – after all, who would have known if I’d sneaked a vodka into my soda and lime?

I am not going back to the almost nightly ‘Whoops, I have drunk a bottle of wine’ habit again. This is why:

– I have saved an alarming amount of money. Seriously, I had no idea how much money I was wasting on ‘relaxation’. I have money set aside to decorate the boys’ bedroom; and I have treated myself to a couple of items of clothing.

– Drinking makes me depressed. Not the drinking per se, I’m not a sobbing-into-my-wine type; but I have really noticed how not drinking improved my sleep. Seven hours of really good sleep = happy mummy in the morning with a lot more energy, patience and resilience. Yes, I slept after wine – and I got used to how I felt in the morning. I didn’t realise how my sleep was not refreshing me, so I got stuck in a get up, drink too much coffee, have an afternoon slump, need a nap, need wine in the evening to relax so I would sleep at a decent time at night because I’d had an afternoon nap cycle.

– Reading books and knitting. Yes, I am getting old. I am not even sorry. I have always wanted to learn to knit, I never had the inclination nor the motivation to put the wine glass down long enough to learn to cast on. I will write more about knitting in my next blog post.

– 8lbs in weight lost. Seriously. That’s some amount of empty, pointless calories I was consuming. I still have a wee way to go (4lbs) before I am at the top end of normal range, according to the BMI-addicted nurse who did my Over-40-MOT on Monday; but having surprised myself this month, maybe looking into my other lifestyle choices is something I may not be as hopeless at as I thought. Again, more about that in the next post.

And so, dear reader, I leave you with this.

Cancer will directly affect 1 in 3 people in the UK at some time in their lives. Hundreds of thousands of other people – family, loved ones, and friends, are also afflicted by the effects of this terrible disease. Cancer does not discriminate. Anyone can be hit, regardless of how healthy they are.

Those of you who have donated to Cancer Research UK in whatever way – from sponsoring me to stay dry, to handing in unwanted items to one of their charity shops – have helped to further the understanding of many of the cancers that affect so many people’s lives. Survival rates for some cancers are now dramatically improved on what could be expected forty years ago, and Cancer Research UK continue to make real in-roads in research and development of new combatants against the disease, as well as achieving a greater understanding of rarer and lesser-known conditions such as myeolproliferative neoplasms.

You are helping people to live as full a life as possible. You are helping to keep families together. You are helping parents see their children laugh and play without pain for longer. You are helping towards the day when cancer will be cureable. Thank you.