Tick, Tick

Tuesday, 16 October 2018

As a medically diagnosed anxious person, I have a couple of triggers that arouse THE FEAR. Fire caused by my hair straighteners is, for no reason that I know of, one of them. Another is the topic of babies. Not because I don’t like kids – kids are hilarious - but because what if I can’t have them and my husband leaves me for someone that can?

Society has lead us to believe that women over a certain age are kidding themselves if they think they can naturally conceive a healthy child. This age used to be 35. More recently, it’s dropped to 27. TWENTY. SEVEN. That's super young. And as for escaping this worry? Well, the entertainment industry - supposedly designed for escapism - hasn’t helped matters. How many seemingly innocent TV shows must I watch about a group of female friends, one of which will inevitably find out she’s infertile - sometimes without it even being in any way related to her character arc, or the storylne at hand - and that her dreams of natural conception have been dashed (Hey there Friends, How I Met Your Mother, Sex and the City, Pretty Little Liars, Rules of Engagement, New Girl, need I go on?)

Come on world, give us a break

With Harry and Meghan announcing THE BEST NEWS EVER yesterday, there has been an expected flurry of social media and press activity speculating on Meghan’s age, and the miracle of her quick conception, even though she’s like, basically dead in biological terms, at the ancient age of 36

Amidst that activity, I came across an article that I found pretty interesting, and that I think is well worth reading if you’re a woman below the age of 45, panicking about how quickly you’re getting through the life stages, because your eggs are obviously drying up real fast.

The article is kinda soothing, as it shares that the data sets used to determine the running out of our clock is from a time before electricity (ie, it’s outdated), and that the infertility split is closer to 50/50, rather than the 99.9% female infertility vs men with perfect sperm that TV would have us believe

The article can be found here. I'll leave it to do the rest of the talking.

L xxx

Give Little, Seldom & Grudgingly

Monday, 15 October 2018

This made me laugh today. Apparently the british weren't coming, after all ;)

{Advice from Ruth Smythers, 1847 - a woman with a clearly unsatisfactory sex life}

Why Aren't These Bunny PJs Made In My Size, & Other Unanswerable Questions

Dear GAP,
Please make these bunny pjs in my size. I would pay an extraordinary sum to wear them every day from now until my 30th birthday {And, possibly, beyond}

Dear people that keep messing up my name update on official documents despite having several points of reference to check your input against,
That isn’t my name. That was never my name. I’m confused as to how you even came up with that one?

Dear avo plant,
I’m sorry I let you come close to death while your papa was on holiday. I tried so hard not to let you die. I will continue trying to revive you. But I might have to give up soon ‘cuz you’re looking kinda moldy and people are starting to talk

Dear early firework displays,
On the behalf of dog owners everywhere, please hang fire until the one designated day a year that we know to prepare for you. Our pooches aren’t reacting well to your whimsy

Dear that offer I made to prepare Christmas dinner for 8 this year,

Dear church service we attended in honour of our niece yesterday,
She’s two. Has she even had enough time on this earth to commit the amount of sins you asked her to apologise for? I’m not sure I’VE even been alive long enough for that…

Dear husband,
You were asleep by 9:30pm last night. You are now officially old. But I love you anyway ;)

Your sincerely,
Lottie xx

A Night At The Brass Band

On Saturday, we got gussied up, and went out for the evening. This was officially our first date since our minimoon, which was blimmin' ages ago, thanks to my crazy hectic work schedule {which I only partially regret taking on - you have to get the freelance pennies rolling in when you're about to quit your day job forever} so we were understandably in need of it

As our first formal date in our newly marital status, you'd think we'd choose something we knew we'd love, something spectacular, something very rar rar and upper class. But we didn't. Because that's not who we are. Instead, we put on our glad rags, and went to see my friend play in a brass band. And you know what? It was a lot of fun.

The band was 'Besses Boys Band,' and it was their 75th anniversary. We were in Victoria Hall in Bolton, and the whole thing was being filmed, which added a little glamour to proceedings.We sat in the balcony stands, and despite mild scepticism, the time just flew. I mean, was it the night out we had envisioned? No, I thought there would be dancing. But was it fun anyway? Yes! Because there's nothing quite like putting on a new jumpsuit, and watching people with far more talent than yourself do their thing. The band even played a song from Tangled, which of course cemented them a place in my heart forevermore.

We ended the night with a drink and a chat about the future, and were back home in our pjs for 11pm {which is the key to a good night out, obvi}

Oh and, as we'd taken our time to look perdy, I insisted we take some 'cute' selfies...

They didn't exactly turn out as planned, but hey, we gave it a go ;)

Here's to many more dates with the legendary Mr G, the man of my waking dreams. And here's to Besses Boys Band, for putting on a jolly good show

L xx

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