Co-Hosting Lena B's Tuesday 10... My Life in 10 Photos!

Exceptionally excited to of been asked to co-host this week with Lena B for her Tuesday 10. Lena B hosts two blogs Lena B Actually and Lena B Photography... Basically these two blogs highlight that she is not only a killer professional photographer but also a seasoned blogging dynamo... Cue a doe-eyed and very flattered Charlie... *Sigh*.

Here we go Tuesday 10... My Life in 10 Photographs... Very fitting to start the new year off with a fresh introduction to all my new wonderful followers and readers (*drops to knees and hails you all... thank you thank you thank you!*)

1) First there was us. There was this day. He's Steve. Whatever's going on with me, it's with him too. For the record this is my favourite picture of me EVER. In about three seconds I will look to my right and see that despite the odds and the miserable morning we will have glorious SUN on our October wedding day. I will walk out the door into it, be served a glass of champagne and right before everyone follows us out into the sunny English gardens there will be a minute where it's just us, married and we'll breath sigh of "WE DID IT!!!". 

2) Pregnancy. Me/Us pregnant. A time that changed it all. Changed my perspective on everything. Big things shrunk and small things grew.

 3) HOLY GRANOLA! A BABY! Euna Irene. I didn't even attempt to find my favourite photo. This post would never get published if I did and I think I would implode in the process, but I love this one.

 4) This is one of my favourite ever pictures and I have Mr Rawles of The Life of Mummy Rawles to thank. It's us at Euna's blessing. My Dad on the left. This photo represents how my family is big and involved and supportive. My family make their own tea when they visit. How my husband really is loved by my parents. That's awesome. It shapes my life most days.

 5) Before I was a Mum, I was an Aunt. To these 3. They're a big part of my life. My sister being a Mum is a big part of my life. She's my trail blazer. 

 6) (Now we get to a bit more of ME) Bia Hoi Corner in Hanoi. I love travel. I LOVE this photo and this evening was probably one of the happiest of my life. The beer in Hanoi is made fresh and lasts a little over 24 hours. So at 5pm, to get rid of the beer, vendors set up beer kegs and plastic chairs and people gather to drink and be merry. The beer is 5p a glass and bars close when the kegs run dry in an hour or 3. We'd been in Vietnam only 24 hours and it was a wonderful trip. In 20 minutes we meet a French couple and get DRUNK and test the theory that because the beer has no preservatives you can't get hungover... That theory is wrong.  

 7) Taking pictures. This is the happiest I can be away from my family. I am not trained and in the grand scheme of things I am little over average in ability. But I love it. I love it so much I don't need to be motivated by being good at it and I have never felt like that about anything. I want to DO this. I want to be a photographer. (First time I've written that down.) 

 8) Friends. This is my closest and oldest friend. I didn't know how much I loved her and how indestructible our friendship was until our lives completely changed and we STAYED just as close. That's friendship. There is no convenience in our friendship now but it works without any work. If you can ever say the same about a friend count that blessing every day.

 9) 18 months ago there would have been a picture of me dancing on here. Today there is this. It's my proudest crafting project to date. I have not replaced dancing with sewing but I have realised that I NEED to be creative in some capacity at all times. I believe everyone NEEDS to be creative whether they know it or not. Counsellors and psychotherapists all over the globe would sit unattended and landfill sites would burst with out of date meds if everyone was creative. You are an artist.

 10) Walking. "What do you want to do today Charlie?" I want to walk. I always want to walk. Field, forest, town, city. Whatever. I want to walk it. I do my best thinking when I walk on my own and I do my best talking when I walk in company. The air. The smells. The happy endorphins that spin around your body as you feel your body in USE. It's not exercise, it's therapy. (And this is my favourite picture of me and her together.)

So there you go... If you hung around long enough you now probably know me better than a lot of people in my real life. How great is blogging?

Thank you Lena B! :D

NOW GO LINK UP YOUR LIFE IN 10 PHOTOGRAPHS!!!!

Note: Photographs 1 & 2 were taken by the very talented Katherine Peachey at Peachey Photography.

<center> <a href="http://www.lenabactually.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="LenaBActually" src="http://i1143.photobucket.com/albums/n624/Mom2MemphisAndRuby/tuesday10new_zps010d5792.jpg" /></a></center>

Home.

Is where the heart is? Where you hang your hat? Is a state of mind?

We're moving. Not imminently, but balls are rolling.

I thought this was a simpler concept at first. We want a bigger house. There. How hard can it be? HARD.

It has occurred to me for the first time I am not just house hunting, I am childhood-backdrop hunting for my baby (babies). We're selecting the scene for so many of her firsts. Her first memory will probably be in this house. A multitude of other firsts she will and won't remember. No doubt a BILLION photos she won't give a chuff about until she's having babies, will be taken here. The walls, the sofa, the floors, the kitchen, the garden; stages for her childhood to imprint on.

Feels big.

Feel this urge to put everything I want for her on our doorstep: friends, fresh air, school, community, trees, parks, sweet shops. Create this mini world where she can grow and smile and breathe and shout and laugh and learn and love until she's big.

Is it that big? Will the home she grows up be responsible for how her childhood is or isn't fulfilling? My short answer is no. Love is key and we will love her with our whole hearts where ever we are.

Oh. But I want her to see trees, everyday. I want her to feel space. I don't want to break up hysterical Daddy-Daughter tickling play-fights because of the neighbours. Could be Mummyography is going rural?

Lesson

We're early on in this journey. Much procrastination is afoot. New stories. No lessons as yet.

This weekend... Euna hand-holds...

 Euna smooches...

The NCT... MY NCT...

One of the biggest influences on my journey into motherhood is the National Childbirth Trust (NCT). Yet, I have never posted about it.

Short version of the reason behind that is; because it's hard to separate the NCT as a charitable organisation of support, from the specific group of ladies, bumps to babies and fellas we have met through them.

The organisation itself does wonderful things. Offers information, support, networking opportunities. I believe in the NCT's mission statement, it would get a share of my Lottery win and I look forward to the day the NCT has the funding to support a more diverse spectrum of the community. If charity, education, manners and a range of other societal necessities start at home then the NCT could change it all, no?

I won't separate them. Fact is if the NCT didn't exist my maternity leave and path into becoming a mother wouldn't be what it is.

If I back up a moment I will tell you that from my observations of friends, family members and colleagues who had babies I recognised a common problem was isolation. I made a pact with myself that would not be me. I joined Baby Centre, I invested myself in my local community, I reconnected with old friends with children and I signed up for the NCT antenatal course. Most importantly I smiled ALOT.

Session 1. Ice-breakers. I spy a common ground or two. She is in to theatre. Her over there is a teacher. Her husband is an Arsenal fan. He's sniggered at Steve's inappropriate joke (mutual cringe). Lunch dates made, a few polite pre-baby afternoons are shared. These are followed by births, babies, boobies out, details of the great untolds are spilled. Voila! Great friends made.

We talk. We cry (me more than most). We talk. We eat cake. We talk. We attend baby activities. We talk. We caffeinate. We talk. It's good.

A problem shared is a problem... My NCT ladies probably also have and that makes it seem less like a problem and more like great cake conversation.

Lesson

Remember this is not the advice blog (more the "hey against the odds my baby is STILL alive and out of social care" blog), but if I were offering mothering advisory tidbits it would be along the lines of "don't do it alone". Find friends. Share the experience. The NCT is a wonderful vessel for this.

Thanks girls xxx You've been wonderful xxx

Do our expectations write our stories?

My active January saw a successful day 2 yesterday. A neighbour and friend of mine and I took our babies and buggies to the road decided to swap nap time housework for a nap time walk. A long one.

Cue Mummy chat where we reminisced back to newborn days. 

I have had this conversation with a lot of people and I find all of their accounts fascinating. Essentially it's the same story over and over again. New baby, all consuming transition, no sleep and with overwhelming love comes overwhelming responsibility.

The variable is the story teller. Their perspective. Are they telling you the story of how the new baby and sleepless nights were wondrous and beautiful? Or are they telling you the story of how the new baby and sleepless nights were frightening and despairing?

Now of course there are other variables. But I wonder if any other variable in a new mothers tale is as pivotal as her expectations on the approach? 

Me, I am all about "worst case scenarios". I can't help but plan for worst case scenarios in every avenue of my life. I do it when budgeting. I do it when driving. I even do it when selecting sun protection factors! Essentially what it means is in the run up to everything I am some kind of pessimist. So my new mother story reads as a long list of small mercies and pleasant surprises I found in the early days: 

"...and after only an hour and a half of bum-numbing breastfeeding, she blessed us with 10 blissful napping minutes in her bouncer!"

Note: Do not read that as smug. Do not read that as "wow! I found it all AMAZING!" Read that as "for the love crunchie that woman punished her poor husband with 9 months of relentless 'OMG STEVE THIS IS GOING TO BE AWWWFFUULLLL!!!!'"

What's the alternative? The opposite of pessimist is romanticist. The alternative is we absorb 18 (give or take) years of smiling dollies, Supernanny re-runs, serene Disney princess motifs and softly faded Johnsons baby adverts. Put those themes on to simmer for 9 months and VOILA! Unrealistic expectations = disappointment + despair.

This is not the parenting advice blog. (Oh Lordy! How we would all be in trouble if I started doing that.) But maybe there is a message in my "research" about expectations. Measuring them. Being realistic. Though not to the point of living with a sense of impending doom. 

For me it wasn't ALL great, some bits were awful and some bits were incredible. All the best things have awful bits. 

Writing this I'm reminded of a good read I found in pregnancy... It talks about how it's unrealistic to expect to enjoy every minute of every day but finding one minute a day to really appreciate what is wondrous about being a Mum will tick your "making the most of it" box. 

Lesson

Be wary of your expectations. They may have already written your story somehow.

Wordless Wednesday... Winter

2013... Day 1...

The fresh air I got the other day wasn't enough. It was good, but I need more. 

Two weeks of carbs, chocolates and alcohol have left my body a few unwelcome pounds heavier and a torpid feeling that's clinging to every joint and muscle. 

I need to move. Outside. This January I am going to walk walk walk. I am going to be active everyday. I want to feel burning muscles. I want to run out of puff. I want to sweat!

Today, January 1st, I started. Even my champagne head couldn't stop me. Sun, camera, brisk air, mud underfoot, THE TRIKE. Here I went...

Lesson:

1. Need to get out.

2. I may need to start thinking about the D word...

Happy New Year Bloggers & Bloggees!

Dear 2012,

(I'm welling up just at the thought of writing this).

Firstly: thank you.

This time last year I was 30 weeks pregnant, with everything to fear. The zillion and one worries of a pregnant woman were flying around my head. I have no official faith. But still I prayed everyday that this baby would get here safely. That it would be healthy. That I would do good for it. That Steve would do good for it. That we would do good for each other. (I loved it already but) that I would love being a Mum.

Oh. She did. She is. I do. He does. We do. And I do. More than anything. So much more than I ever anticipated. So much so I don't really know how I hadn't lived my entire life before hand without feeling that gaping, vacuous hole that must have been there without her?

How can someone be so lucky? How? How can I be so lucky without being owed a millennia of plagues and misfortune?

So biggest, deepest and sincerest thank you.

Secondly: how did you change me so much?

In 2011 I was a dance teacher. I knew I loved education, I loved work, I saw job role and salary as almost my sole measure of success. I knew a lot of things.

2012! What did you do to me?! Why did I never miss my job? What are these new ambitions in photography I have? How have I been so contented at home? How has being the best Mum I can be knocked all my former priorities off the charts? AND WHAT THE HELL IS IT ABOUT THIS SMALL PERSON I LOVE SO MUCH THAT I EAT, BREATHE AND SLEEP HER?!?!!!

I'm not actually asking these questions. I don't want any answers. I am so happy to embrace every metamorphosis you have brought I have no reason to seek reasoning. Just... Wow!

Third and finally: now this is living.

2012, you have shown what can really happen if you follow your passions and love harder than you've ever loved before. Like if you imagined you were dying. Love like you're dying. Love that hard. Live that hard. If we could live and love that hard through 2013 what would we get done? If you looked back in a year's time where would you be? What would you have done?

So there we are. 2012, you have been wonderful. You are the year I became a Mum. I hope to live many wonderful years like you but I doubt anything could dull you into obscurity for that reason. I'll look back on you. The year I became a Mum and it all changed.

Yours wholly and sincerely appreciatively

Charlie

P.S. If you speak to 2013 before I do, tell it I'm ready.
NYE 2011...

7th March 2012...

 May... (Our first trip away...)

 June...

 First family holiday...

 Portugal...

 July...

Olympics...

August...

 The blessing, September...

October...

November...

Christmas...

Resolutions

1. No more swearing around the baby. Explained here...

2. TBC... My husband's suggestion of "get more interested in darts" is not making the list.