pregnancy losing weight second trimester | Toddler Fight Club meaner and tougher

pregnancy losing weight second trimester

Last month I wrote a post about how I thought my toddler had her own little fight club thing going on.  Not in the actual fight club sense with physical violence, but, as in the film, her own little set of rules that you chose not to obey at your peril. A key rule was that her rules changed pretty frequently without her actually telling me or her dad any of them.  You can read the original toddler fight club post here. Almost as if she had read my post, my beautiful daughter has upped her game, and here for your reading pleasure are her new toddler fight club rules.   

Rule one of toddler fight club. There are many, many rules. 

Rule two of toddler fight club. These rules will change daily sometimes hourly and different people have different rules.  If you are going to blog about them mummy, I will change them again.  This is my fight club. 

Rule three of toddler fight club.  I now like not two, but three rubber ducks in my bed at bedtime.  Count them buster, 1,2,3.  And yes, I still need my penguin, a heart shaped stone and a blanket.  If any one of these said items is missing, then you can wave sleep bye-bye.

Rule four of toddler fight club.  I will trump at any given moment and then look nonchalantly at you. Yes, I am fully aware you find this embarrassing, but I am not admitting to trumping in public, its way too embarrassing.  For all intents and purposes, it was you.

Rule five of toddler fight club. I will also embarrass you at playgroup and announce in my loudest voice that the big blue lump of play dough looks like a poo I did that morning.  Its in the publics interest that they know this information. 

Do not be fooled by the tiara and wand.  This kid means business. 

Rule six of toddler fight club. Do not ever tell people about my skills. My skills are for your eyes only. I am not a performing monkey.  The minute you tell someone I can sing Frozen or Im a chatter box, I lose all power and control over my vocal chords.  And quite frankly, you look a little stupid.

Rule seven of toddler fight club. I now quite like the phrase donkey flag which I like to shout at the top of my voice whilst we are food shopping.  I have no idea what it means either.

Rule eight of toddler fight club. I must perform a five minute dance routine before bed or I cant sleep.  You let me watch Mary Poppins at Christmas and now I feel like I need to recreate Berts chimney sweep dance before bed.  Every single night. 

Rule nine of toddler fight club. If you give me a helium balloon then expect me to work out the point in any given building of the highest ceiling to floor ratio and then I will release it there.  Now please go and get it or I will cry.

Rule ten of toddler fight club. The dog is still my personal miniature pony and he shall transport me around the house whenever I feel the need. 

Ahhh, toddlers eh?! Well as Im typing its bedtime in the Laura Evelyn Bee household, so whilst I go and watch my daughter pretend to be a chimney sweep, are there any rules you think your little one would add to the list? Comments below please!  

Thank you for reading, 

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baby weight loss secrets | Twitteritis

baby weight loss secrets

I think I may have lost my mind. Well, OK. That might be being a little over dramatic. But I have certainly crossed over into the realms of over-thinking. I blame social media. Bloody social media. I my friends, have Twitteritis. 

I am very new to twitter, six months new to be precise, and already I have been inflicted with this paralysing condition. I never have a tweet to tweet. I have my own little mental checklist.  Is my tweet going to be funny? (I dont think Ive ever tweeted something funny for the record). Is my tweet boastful? (No-one likes a boaster). Is my tweet interesting? (No, not particularly). Hmmmm, back to the drawing board.  Oh wait, Ive got one. I think I have a good tweet. Yep, this is a good one.  Oh no, wait.  One of the 783 people I follow has just tweeted something similar. Bugger. And herein lies my problem.  By the time I have gone through my checklist, I have lost the will to tweet. 

I often see people tweeting where they are off to. And if you are jetting off to the Maldives that appears to be a good tweet. Im not by the way. Jetting off to the Maldives that is. My location tweets appear to centre around going to playgroup, and then I wonder if any of my followers would care if I am going to playgroup, its not that exotic.  On a good day there might be a juice spillage at snack time, or that time a shoe went missing. Exactly. ARGH. 

But dont think my over-thinking is focused solely on my twitter life. Oh no, I can go a few days without Instagramming too, blinded by my Instagramitis. Does the picture look right? Who wants to see a picture of the Lego house I built anyway?(It was pretty good to be fair).  What does this picture say about me? Well, the pink potty photo sorta screamed potty training whilst the picture of my daughters lunch actually read that I should be trying to regain control of the toddler thats riding the dog around the house instead of rearranging her food on a plate to snap. (For the record I do have control of my daughter 96% of the time).  And dont get me started on what filter to use.   

And thats the thing with over-thinking.  Once you start, you cant actually start the thing you are over-thinking because you are too busy thinking about it. For all its fabness, social media is loaded with the demons of comparing yourself to others, thinking what you have got to offer might not be up to par, and that annoying gremlin called self-doubt. 

But I say sod it.  Because quite frankly, lifes too bloody short. Im going to rid myself of Twitteritis and Instagramitis. Im going to tweet and snap to my hearts content about what Im actually doing (Im in the middle of painting an elephant if youre interested). I want my social media to reflect me and my daily life.  Not trying to keep up with her in the Maldives.  OK, I may not be lying on a beach with an elephant hosing me down, but being me right here and right now, is actually pretty amazing. I guess it all comes down to just being yourself. 

Happy Monday everyone and as always, thanks for reading. 

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken", 

Oscar Wilde.

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pregnancy after weight loss surgery | One kiss two kiss hug or wave

pregnancy after weight loss surgery

Years ago, I think to say hello or to say hi to someone you just, well, you just said hello or hi.  Today, there is the air kiss, the kiss to one cheek, the kiss to both cheeks, the hug, the wave or the rubbing of an arm.  And then theres what I do, which usually involves some bizarre combination of all six and results in everyone feeling a little awkward. It seems like everyone else has had the how to greet memo except me.

I cant remember when this greeting calamity started.  I have a feeling its the moment that I started even thinking about what to do.  A memory that stands out for me is at a very good friends wedding.  After the ceremony both families lined up and you had to greet them as you walked into the main reception room.  I can remember feeling nervous as me and my husband got to the front.  And then it was my turn to congratulate the father-in-law.  And  what did I do? I double kissed him on each cheek. I have no idea what came over me.  I dont know if I had been watching too many Kardashian episodes, but I think he wondered what I was bloody doing.  In fact, I can remember at him looking at me with a mixture of puzzlement and maybe a little bit of fear that I was going to give him three kisses. 

Then theres the people that I go and give a hug to, and then they kiss me on the cheek, and I am there hugging away, when they have cheek-kissed and basically moved on.  I am left looking like a bit of idiot and resembling a mussel stuck to a rock.  Awkward. I once went to kiss someone on the cheek but I missed and kissed their ear. Now THAT was awkward. Do you just air kiss? I have to admit I do.  Since my misplaced kiss of the ear at least if I pretend to kiss no-ones going to know if my lips missed the cheek target.

To strangers, if I hold a hand out to greet they look at me like we are in the boardroom and Im Lord Sugar. And then if I dont shake their hand and I do a wave (which is pretty ridiculous in itself...who waves at someone whos right in front of them?) they look at me like they would have actually preferred a hug. I admit I have been guilty myself of going in for a hug whilst the other person has gone to kiss me on the cheek.  They ended up with a mouthful of my hair as I turned my head. I knew, because I saw them pulling my blonde hair out of their mouth. I thought it rude to mention anything. Thank god they didnt choke. 

If you are looking for any kind of advice on this matter, dont look at me. Because quite frankly, I am clueless to this whole greeting dance that we perform (obviously).  But maybe you dont need any advice, maybe its just me.  But if you could forward me that memo, it would be much appreciated.  You will spot me easily at the party, I will be the one surrounded by the guy choking on a mouthful of my hair and the lady with my lipstick on her ear.

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