tattycrafts

My lovely friend Vicky published a post on her blog today which got me thinking,  no, it didn't get me thinking, it got me motivated. I've been thinking for a long time now, and taking action, then stopping, then starting, then stopping, then... well you get the picture. In a little under 12 weeks I'm hoping to have a mini me, of course it may be a little longer, but still, that's no time at all!  Mini me needs a room of their own to relax, and a house which is functional, and can hold everything they need. The house we're in is far from ideal for this, but until we can get it on the market and sold, we have to make do. I've just spent the last hour moving items out of the room which is to be the nursery, and generally making the rest of the house an even bigger mess.  In order to rectify the even bigger mess I have to crack on with putting stuff in the cupboard under the stairs, and in the loft.  Bit difficult when the cupboard under the stairs is curre

I spent the evening yesterday with family, including my brother, his partner and their two gorgeous boys. I only tend to see them every few months and I'm always blown away by how much the boys have changed and learnt in such a short space of time. They're super cute, intelligent, funny and charming as hell. Of course, being an Aunty and not seeing them as often as I would like may mean that I only get to see the good stuff and that I am a little biased.  However, as a mum-to-be, I'm already starting to think about how my own child is going to turn out and how others will perceive not only my child, but mine and D's parenting skills. Children don't come with an instruction book, and yes you can buy all sorts of parenting guides but your child is unique and the parents are the ones who know the child and what works best for them. It's a challenge for sure and I can imagine how easy it would be to see only the things that you perceive you've failed on and

This morning my mood is matching the weather.  It's dark and gloomy,  and a bit damp. It's the time of year where social activities are everywhere and for the first year in my life I'm being a bit of a hermit.  It's not that I don't want to do anything but I don't want to be the sober companion to all the drunkards. It's not the alcohol I'm missing, it's that happy, social, festive atmosphere. The affection and care everyone shows each other. Sitting home on your own drinking tea just doesn't cut it. Nor does waking up on your own knowing your other half will return at some point in the day hungover and no good to anyone for another 24 hours. It's a bit dark in here.  Time for a new light bulb. The weekend is ahead of me and I have lots to do.  *flicks the switch*

Never before have I had such a contradiction in terms of my self body image.  I've never had much in the way of body confidence, and being pregnant and all the changes that brings has been somewhat difficult to get used to. I'm fat. I''m pregnant. I'm fat. I'm pregnant. It's not helped by people I meet having an opinion on my size.  I can't tell you the amount of times I've had people tell me how small I seem, joking that maybe I'm not even pregnant; and then others who say how big I am and joke there must be more than one in there. I laugh it off, and just focus on how I feel and what is happening to me.  This is my body, my pregnancy, and it would be stupid to try and compare myself against others experiences.  Every woman's pregnancy and body changes are different, they're unique.  They're hers . I'm fat. I'm pregnant. I'm fat. I'm pregnant. It's weird how my perception changes depending on

D and I had a mission on our hands today.  To find a suitable coat to see me through this winter and cater for my ever increasing girth! I'm only a short little thing, fondly referred to as a Hobbit by D (no, I don't have hairy feet), and find it hard to find clothes to fit at the best of times. I spent the best part of today desperately trying on various coats in various stores which all made me look varying degrees of ridiculous. Finally in Tesco, we spotted a coat, just as I'd given up, in a size that I knew would accommodate wrigglebum.  It shocked me today that I'd had to buy a size 18.  Of course if I'd bought a proper maternity coat I could have got away with a much smaller size, but maternity clothing is so expensive in comparison, and I only need it to see me through the one winter.  So my normal size 12/14 has been forgotten, and my belly requires an 18.  At least it's comfortable gives me room to grow, and more importantly will keep me warm! I