Category: Our stories

  • As A Carer You’ll Watch Me Do Things And Instantly Judge Me

    As a Carer you’ll watch me do things and instantly judge me for them, you’ll look down your nose and see me as nothing more than someone that deals with other people’s body fluids and makes cups of tea.

    You’ll wonder why I can walk out of a room and instantly into another, forgetting that I may have promised your relative a blanket or a cup of water because I was “distracted” by someone else.

    You’ll wonder why I’ve walked past your relatives room and not entered theirs, you’ll wonder why some people are attended to sooner and you’ll curse my name under your breath as they wait.

    You’ll wonder how I seem to have time to sit down and write and wonder why I cannot fix things immediately.

    You’ll wonder how, under any circumstance, I could be sharing a smile or a laugh with a co-worker as if laughter has no place.

    As I walk in for my shift, you’ll look at me, your eyes saying that you want me to help and you’ll wonder why I can’t just make that happen.

    But here’s what, if you’re very lucky, you’ll never see.

    You’ll never see me lose. You’ll never see me take off my sweaty gloves and say a goodbye to someone I’ve cared for for months or even years

    You’ll never see the weight that we carry home. For minutes or hours, days, or weeks, or even lifetimes.

    You’ll never see our children’s faces as we kiss them goodbye on Christmas morning so that we can make it a special day for your family member.

    You’ll never see the deep breath we take as we walk into a room to prepare a loved one before family enter to say their last goodbye.

    You’ll never see our hearts ache with the pain for those we have nursed and passed and those that continue to battle.

    You’ll never see our minds as they tirelessly overthink and overwork scenarios, wondering how or if we could do something better next time.

    You’ll never see us break the news that someone’s husband or wife, that they have been married to for 50 plus years has died because they have forgotten again, you’ll never see us comfort them as they cry.

    And for the most part, I’m okay that you can’t see those things. It’s my job to do, my burden to carry, and my labor of love and service so that you don’t have to, so that the relationship you have remains as it always has been, so that you don’t have to become their Carer. I’ll take on that role for you.

    However, I’ll be honest, there are times that I wish you could understand the alternative to your relative that’s waiting. There are times I wish you understood the difference between urgency and emergency. And there are certainly times that I wish I could be transparent enough to tell you when your relative dies it breaks our hearts too.

    If you know, or love a Carer please do me a favor and just give them a hug. Or maybe a fist bump if hugging isn’t their thing, or maybe even just a nod of approval but more anything please remember were more than just bottom cleaners and tea makers.

    We’re working as hard and as fast as we can, and most days, it’s never enough.”

     

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/rosieann93

     

  • Raynaud’s Disease Explained

    Raynaud’s disease (Ray-nose) is where the small blood vessels in the extremities such as hands and feet, fingers or toes are over-sensitive to even the slightest changes in temperature, the cold and sometimes stress. This causes a Raynaud’s attack where the fingers sometimes change colour, but not always, from white, to blue, to red. Raynaud’s phenomenon is a common condition thought to affect up to ten million people in the UK and can impact your life.

    A Raynaud’s attack can be a very uncomfortable, possibly painful, process. It can also make everyday tasks, like buttoning a jacket or unzipping a purse, very difficult. Raynaud’s symptoms generally affect the fingers and toes, but all extremities can be involved, including the hands, feet, ears, nose, lips, tongue and nipples.

    Raynaud’s symptoms are:

    • a colour change in the extremities such as hands or feet
    • cold extremities and numbness
    • tingling or pain

    People with Raynaud’s syndrome can get medication from the doctors to help with symptoms such as Calcium channel blockers.

    There is no cure for Raynaud;s but the condition can be managed with diet, exercise, medication and prevention methods such as thermals and gloves

  • Stop Asking How Much To Spend On Your Kids

    You know what I can’t stand is mums and mums group asking how much they should spend on their crotch goblins for Christmas.

    How is this even a question you spend what you can afford or what you feel is acceptable budget.

    If you only have a £50 budget then so be it, you know what your kids will still have a great day and love what you have given them, older children will understand that times are hard and that you are doing your upmost best for them and if they don’t then you need to teach them the value of money.

    If you do happen to have plenty of spare cash it does not mean you have to buy your kids the world or brag about the huge mounds of gifts under the tree.

    Lets not make Christmas a competition, let’s not get loans out or spend all year going without so you can make one day “special”.

    Looking back on my childhood I don’t remember the expensive gifts I can barely remember a single gift other than a pogo stick which I absolutely loved, It wasn’t until I was an adult that my mother told me she had bought it from a car boot sale for only a pound.

    Christmas should be about the ones you love, spending time with them not money!!!

    Don’t ask what you should spend….You are enough and you are doing great mama

  • Remembering Life Before Children

    “It’s 3am and the baby cries,

    You look at your partner but he’s got work at sunrise.

    You get annoyed at him for laying there and sleeping,

    The baby monitor starts flashing and beeping.

    You try and wake up but your body protests,

    The milk is already soaking your pyjama vest.

    You remember the life you think you’ve lost,

    Everything has changed now but at what cost?

    It’s 3am and you know what this used to mean,

    Dancing and parties, following your dreams.

    You think about all the things you used to enjoy,

    All the stuff that happened before your little boy.

    You remember how your body used to be,

    No stretch marks, no wobbles, no imperfections to see.

    The housework was always up to date, the washing always clean,

    There were days where you never had to question hygiene.

    You remember the people you met, the ones you don’t see anymore,

    The friends who forgot about you and yours.

    The invites stopped because you became a mum,

    Didn’t you know motherhood is lonely, as a rule of thumb?

    But it’s 3am and the baby cries,

    He looks up and you with those big hazel eyes.

    He stops his tears and a big grin appears on his face,

    You’re his mother, his lifeline, his safe place.

    Everything has changed, yes that’s true,

    But this little bundle looks up to you.

    He doesn’t care what you’re wearing or how you look,

    Motherhood replaced the life this baby took.

    It’s hard, challenging and a difficult feat,

    But there no better sound than his little heartbeat.

    So hold him close and forget about every mindless thing,

    Life is better than before, happiness is just for you and your little king.”

    – Beautiful words and artwork by @Levi Duvall Thompson

     

  • Dear Mom And Dad I Died Today

    Dear Mom and Dad,

    I died today. You got tired of me and took me to the shelter. They were overcrowded and I drew an unlucky number. I am in a black plastic bag in a landfill now. Some other puppy will get the barely used leash you left. My collar was dirty and too small, but the lady took it off before she sent me to the Rainbow Bridge .

    Would I still be at home if I hadn’t chewed your shoe? I didn’t know what it was, but it was leather, and it was on the floor. I was just playing. You forgot to get puppy toys.

    Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken? Rubbing my nose in what I did only made me ashamed that I had to go at all. There are books and obedience teachers that would have taught you how to teach me to go to the door.

    Would I still be at home if I hadn’t brought fleas into the house? Without anti-flea medicine, I couldn’t get them off of me after you left me in the yard for days.

    Would I still be at home if I hadn’t barked? I was only saying, “I’m scared, I’m lonely, I’m here, I’m here! I want to be your best friend.”

    Would I still be at home if I had made you happy? Hitting me didn’t make me learn how.

    Would I still be at home if you had taken the time to care for me and to teach manners to me? You didn’t pay attention to me after the first week or so, but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.

    I died today.

    Love, Your Puppy

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/marusskaya

     

  • How To Handle Seeing Women Breastfeeding

    How to handle seeing breastfeeding in the age of #MeToo

    Recently a man said something to me about not knowing what to do when he sees breastfeeding in public in this age of #MeToo.

    Yes, he was serious.

    He went on to explain that he can’t help but “notice” breastfeeding and since he’s a guy, he can’t help looking at breasts when they’re “just out there.” Or something like that.

    Yes, he knew who I was and what I do. Yes, he kept going.

    He argued that breastfeeding should always be done some place private because these days a guy is going to get “#MeToo’d” just for noticing breastfeeding and he’ll be slapped with a “sexual harassment lawsuit just for looking.”

    Yes, I educated him.

    After that exchange I decided I needed to create a simple, easy guide for those concerned about getting “MeToo’d” when they see someone breastfeeding.

    Here it is.

    Worried about someone accusing you of sexual assault because you notice them breastfeeding? Concerned that you don’t know how to handle seeing breastfeeding in the age of #MeToo? Then this guide is for you. These surefire strategies will keep you from being the next Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Matt Lauer, Louis C.K., or Rupert Murdoch with these easy to follow steps and practical tips.

    1) Keep your mouth shut. You see a baby breastfeeding, just keep your mouth shut. You can smile, you can nod but if you are concerned it could turn into a #MeToo moment any second, just keep your mouth shut because apparently your are confused on what constitutes sexual harassment from say, normal decent human interaction. Also should go without saying but since you need a guide: keep your dick in your pants and don’t slip her any drugs.

    2) If, however, you want to be encouraging or supportive and you have a pretty good and clear idea of what is and isn’t sexual harassment (pretty good rule of thumb: if you wouldn’t be comfortable saying it to another man, your own mother, or your own child, don’t say it AT ALL), you can say something like “you’re such a good parent.” Do not say something like “that baby sure is lucky” because that totally sounds like you wish you could be sucking on that boob instead of the baby and yes, THAT IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT.

    3) Notice the baby, look at the sweet baby, don’t become lecherous trying to see boobs. Babies are adorable, we all get that. It’s ok to take a good long look at an adorable baby and nobody’s going to blame you for that. But if you start trying to see the boobies, craning your neck and staring hoping for a glimpse of titty… that the baby’s head is covering anyway… then you’re gross, cleary have issues with boundaries, and deserve whatever comes your way. #MeToo exists because of schmucks like you in the first place.

    4) Remember this: IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. It really isn’t. The breastfeeding scene unfolding before you has nothing to do with you, it isn’t for your consumption, and it isn’t about you in any way shape or form. Know who it is about? The baby. So don’t act like one, grow up, and mind your own darn business.

    5) Keep your hands to yourself. Do not touch the breastfeeding pair. Personal space bubble applies to them just like anyone else. Which if this was respected more in the first place, #MeToo wouldn’t even be a thing.

    6) If you find you are unable to control yourself then just use your neck, turn your head, look away, walk away, and PLEASE, call a therapist.

    Follow these 6 simple steps and you should be totally free of any risk of the #MeToo movement coming after you based on how you handle seeing breastfeeding today.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/TheLeakyBoob/

     

  • My Baby Died But I’m Still Feeding Babies

    When I found out I was pregnant again, I wanted nothing more than to be successful at breastfeeding.

    But when we found out of Samuel’s diagnosis, I knew that was not going to happen. Just another hope that was taken from me.

    Before Samuel passed, I told myself I would pump my milk to donate. Afterall, Porter was given donated milk more than half of her first year of life!

    My Baby Died But I'm Still Feeding Babies
    My Baby Died But I’m Still Feeding Babies

    I couldn’t save Samuel’s life, but maybe I could save another baby’s life .

    Pumping is not for the faint of heart. It’s hard. Mentally and physically. And it’s even harder when you don’t actually have a baby.

    There were times I was angry because why did my milk have to come in when I had no baby to feed? Why was I waking up in the middle of the night for this? The other part of me felt it was the only thing connecting me to Samuel here on Earthside. I sure hope he’s proud of me!

    I pumped for 63 days after his birth. I am not an over supplier by any means- but I did it.

    And today, his due date, I donated my milk to the NICU milkbanks for the first and last time. Walking through the hallways of the hospital was just another step in healing.And I know, (because I felt him), that Samuel was there with me💜

    #smilingforsamuel #trisomy18awareness

    https://www.bonfire.com/store/smiling-for-samuel/

    Credit. https://www.facebook.com/sierra.coulthard

     

  • Christmas Shopping Made Easy

    Once again my camera roll is FULL of pictures of Emerson with every single thing she wants for Christmas. Why…because it’s the most amazing parenting hack ever and has stopped MANY meltdowns! If you aren’t using this hack…listen up friends.

    Our trips to the store used to be a lot more painful this time of year. Toys are out in full force…and of course my kids WANT 👏🏼 IT 👏🏼 ALL. Obviously I would love to have sweet, well mannered, non-greedy, chill kids, that don’t ask for all the things…but I don’t. So drop your judgement Karen, and stop reading if you have kids like that 👆. Now…if you have kids like mine…that want the shiny amazing things that fill Target, the grocery store, Office Depot, the gas station, and pretty much everywhere you go this time of year, this is for you.

    What is it?!

    Take a picture. It’s that simple.

    Pause for a second, comment on the thing they’re pointing out, and say, “Let’s take a picture with it and send it to Santa so he knows you want it!” Note: you can send it to Santa, grandma, TeeTee Stephanie or whoever it is you can pawn it off on. Totally up to you and can be different every time.

    Magically, Emmie smiles, says cheese, asks to see the picture, then PUTS THE TOY DOWN AND WALKS AWAY. It’s magical. No tears. No tantrums (by either of us). And she forgets about all of them within minutes.

    Maybe you’ve been doing this for ages, and you selfishly didn’t share this tip with me…or maybe you’re like me and this is about to rock your world. For real, try it friends.

    You’re welcome.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/KristinaKay84

     

  • My Jalapeño Were A Torture Device To My Children

    The other night, I was cutting up jalapeños while cooking dinner.

    My sour patch kids (daughter & son) are always in my shit.

    I can never fully accomplish a whole task without them in the way.

    Little ankle biters, they are.

    So, I’m chopping these peppers up and answering questions left and right like I’m a contestant on a game show.

    I’m currently killing this mom shit.

    I’m multitasking AF.

    I’m pouring chocolate milk, slice another jalapeño, twirl around checking a butt for poop, peek on the chicken in the oven with a smile on my face, run to the living room to clean up a spill, and back to the kitchen to finish the jalapeños.

    I’m gliding through the kitchen just basking in my motherliness.

    Until I hear a cry for help from the bathroom. Suddenly, Kaison, my 6 year old, who wipes his butt always, forgets how to wipe his butt.

    I sprint down the hall to offer hand services for the butt in need.

    I get caught in the hall by my daughter who asks me to put her princess play shoes back on. Every mom with a daughter knows the damn shoes. They only fall off every other step because they are made for a child with an almost invisibility foot. I slip the bitches back on for the 100 time while rushing and she’s screaming because I left her pinky toe out and still trying to shove it on. After I tuck that little piggy back inside, she cautiously walks away on the plastic heels of death amongst the wooden floors, to the kitchen looking for a “snack.”

    After I complete the butt wiping task, I walk back into the kitchen to the sounds of gagging and coughing.

    The gags progress to wails and cries of pain.

    I see Micah and Lilah with tears in their eyes sobbing and wiping their tongues. I asked Lilah what was wrong and she said, “hot hot hottttt!!!”

    I try to find answers to what in the actual fuck was happening and then Lilah said, “I don’t like those grapes. Those grapes so yucky” as she points to the jalapeños.

    😒 I try to sound concerned, but my initial emotion was anger because I’m down one whole jalapeño less than what I started with. Every jalapeño mattered.

    After grieving the loss, I give them milk, I give them bread, I pray, I light incense, I bathe them in Oils. I give them whatever the hell else they want and NOTHING is helping.

    My kids love spicy food, but these were not your average jalapeños.

    These were the Devil’s peppers. And they came with vengeance. These bitches was spicy and they was angry.

    The hands that they grabbed the peppers with are now rubbing the tears from their eyes and rubbing the snot around their noses.

    Now, their whole face is on fire.

    At this point, there’s not many options

    other than to just throw both children away and start over. I have two others not infected at all.

    I’m running their whole heads under water. I’m trying to flush the Devil’s pepper out of their eyes and nose. Nothing is working.

    I’m screaming, “GOOGLE, HOW THE FUCK CAN I SAVE MY CHILDREN’S EYES FROM THE DEVIL’S PEPPER?”

    Google is no use because google has no intellectual understanding of curing children from jalapeños at this time. (Words from the mouth of Google herself)

    The chicken burned.

    More shit spilled.

    My jalapeños didn’t get used for a meal, instead they were a torture device to my children.

    The babies ended up with wash cloths on their faces on the couch while chugging chocolate milk. Nobody was blinded. We all survived.

    Except for me.

    Soon after I laid the children down for bed, Jalen, my other 6 year old, walks in my bedroom hysterically crying.

    I asked him what the hell he wanted because my hours of operation were clearly over, and then he said, “my butthole is burning.”

    Ok…gonna need you to elaborate, son.

    Guess who played with a Devil’s pepper while not learning from the magical hell his siblings went through?

    Him. That boy. The burning butthole kid.

    Why did his butthole burn, you ask?

    Because after playing with the Devil’s pepper, using it as a stage prop for his dinosaurs to eat, he decided to just itch his ass. A lot.

    Welcome to parenthood, where we are solely surviving on prayers and wine.

    That’s some real #Seriousmomshit

    Disclaimer: the butt I wiped, was not the butt that burned. I have twins. Thanks for the concern on my intelligence, but, I got this 🤞🏻

    DON’T Forget to SHARE with a momma who needs some laughter tonight.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/Seriousmomshit0/