Good evening,
So a thought occurred to me this weekend. Am I ready? Looking at Mr. Warehouse on Friday evening after a few hours in the park wearing out his Niece's and Nephew's, my beloved other-half sat relaxed on the sofa with the littlest of three children, all seemingly pooped from the exertion. Difference is that only a few moments earlier I was cradling a crying baby with no clue as to why it was upset. Was it hungry? No I was trying to feed it and the milk was not being graciously received. Was it soiled? Nope checked that - Five times. Was it hot? Not sure so I took off some layers. Was it tired? I don't think so as every time I put it down it cried and screamed even more. Did it want to be held? Refer back to being laid down. Was it sad? Probably.
To be fair I have no clue and zero experience when it comes to children. Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb are both bemused and concerned with my lack of motherly instinct and general attitude towards children. The amount of times I have said to myself and others that "It'll be different when its my own" and all along I was kidding myself because now, I am actually starting to wonder if it is a false lie that other parents say when your just not ready for kids.
I look at my own childhood, because I imagine that is where it starts. I was an only child up until I was about five and that is when my brother came along. Little as he always was to me, he was my little Bro and I was furiously protective over him, right up until the moment I was kicked out. Even to this day I find myself defending him and explaining that there must be a reason for some of his strange and sometimes hurtful actions. Growing up though, other than my brother, I never had any real hands on contact with babies or smaller children. My mother was told that after my siblings difficult birth another pregnancy could be the end of her and so it was just the two of us.
When I was in my mid-teenage years, rocking out to My Chemical Romance and Enter Shikari, along came the first of three cousins, all in a quick succession of one another. With them all approaching their early adolescence I am sometimes put to shame with how much they know already. Sex Education is starting earlier, as is Drugs talks in Personal, Social, Health and Educational studies. At their age I though weed was some kind of plant that your grandma hated and would make you pee the bed if you picked it. I suppose it is education of a generation so as not to make the mistakes their parents may have made.
I have very few friends that are single and ready to mingle, not that I am of course. Most of the people I know are with someone long term and either getting on the property ladder, having children or getting hitched. But I question sometimes if I am ready for all of that commitment. In fact, looking through social media, I have very few school friends that have not gone on to have children young. Now this is not a blast to young moms, and dads, ho have had their children whilst young themselves. Hey good luck to you, because my limited experience of looking after children, and within that the sparse moments I have had looking after children on my own, I question honestly how it can and is done. Only a handful of people in my friends list have a university degree, or have travelled extensively. Most of them without kids just poodle on through life, fixing up their room with new Instagram style photo-walls and tweeting about how the morning jog was just the best.
Thinking about it life is great without kids! I am far too selfish, self-obsessed and consumed by moi to have children yet. People have said that "children will be the making of you and all your narcissism will melt away once you have babies" but I doubt it. I will have to wait and see what the future holds but right now there is a world to explore and a whole cupboard of alcohol under my sink that needs t be drunk ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Ready. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ready. Show all posts
Monday, 10 April 2017
Monday, 2 May 2016
When You Know, You Know?!
Hi everyone!
So yet another Bank Holiday has graced the United Kingdom and after feeling rather poorly since last week's post and having to take a few days off work sick, I have been feeling much better over the last few days. Nothing serious, just a combination of UTI, Kidney Infections and crippling back pain along with nausea and vomiting. And don't worry I am not pregnant - I have checked already. But I suppose you would be checking too if you had woken up at three-in-the-morning on the nose for the last five days vomiting ... Unless you were a man?!
Finishing work on Friday exhausted from my half-worked week, I arrived home and spent the night cuddling with Mr. Warehouse. After hearing that one of our work colleagues was getting engaged after a trip to Dublin I was pleased to hear that the European Capital had made such a profound impact on the couple who had asked for mine and Mr. Warehouse's advice on where to go and what to do there after our Christmas/Valentines Trip in February. Mulling it over dinner, Mr. Warehouse then exclaimed that he himself had also considered proposing to me whilst on the Green Isle. This I was shocked by. Sat their open mouthed over the dinner table I was stunned that I had been so close to being "wifed".
Totally bewildered and stunned by this revelation I asked Mr. Warehouse how and where and when and why but the only real response I got was that it would have been at some point on our drunken night out in Temple Bar or maybe at a few other romantically set scenes across the city, of which I suspect the Zoo was one of them. He explained that whilst he has yet to buy a ring, ask my dad, get me a manicure and gain advice from Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and they are just the basic things needed in proposing to the one you love.
I think it panicked me slightly that whilst we are now living together in my little flat and the dog has moved in also, I sometimes find myself missing the fact that we used to hardly see each other. Whenever Mr. Warehouse was due to come round I would clean my home in a frantic mission to make it look beautifully tidy and presentable. I would make a conscience effort to look good all the time around him and I really miss the days when we would just go out for a walk or meet up for a date. I enjoyed the fact that it was my flat and whilst I am more than happy now sharing that with the other half and the fluff ball, I miss the days when it was all brand new. I know that my friends and I are getting to an age where people are getting hitched, having babies and buying houses but I don't honestly know if I am ready for that right now. I want more that life has to offer before all that. I want to travel more and experience things before all my priorities get ploughed into a house, husband or hordes of offspring.
I love Mr. Warehouse to pieces but I often wonder for his own well-being. I want him to be a little more like me sometimes and have a bit more get up and go. Find a better job so he doesn't have to work crappy shifts so that he can earn more money, in turn making some new friends or rekindling old ones so as to create a social life instead of just being in front of the TV all the time. Playing rugby or another sport, going off down the pub to watch the football or crashing round someones house to have an all nighter on the Xbox; All of these things I think would make him into a better person and ergo make him feel better and more confident in himself. I worry that as I did in the past, Mr. Warehouse is consuming himself with my presence and to be brutally honest it makes me feel guilty when I go out with the girls or try to plan holidays as I know he doesn't have any other avenue to socialise other than his huge extended family or a few work colleagues. As harsh as it sounds if I knew that Mr. Warehouse did not have as many hobbies and activities outside of our relationship as I do now then things might be different, but then on the other hand, in a way I knew all of this when I first met him and I still continued to date him so something must be there beyond just lust?!
I suppose with all of this comes compromise and prioritising your problems and issues. We have to sort out each fault in life one at a time. Rome wasn't built in a day and neither can a new life for someone. I know where I want to be and what I want out of life in the future, I just question sometimes when I will be ready and how will I know I am ready because for me, with everything I have been through as a late-teen and in my early-twenties I am now at a point most people my age are past. I wanna go out and party through the night, getting in when the sun's coming up, having wild parties and creating memories I will never forget. I am still the college-grad that wants to party away her weekends in flowery headbands and glittery make-up as opposed to spending them settling down and creating the foundations for a future with someone.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So yet another Bank Holiday has graced the United Kingdom and after feeling rather poorly since last week's post and having to take a few days off work sick, I have been feeling much better over the last few days. Nothing serious, just a combination of UTI, Kidney Infections and crippling back pain along with nausea and vomiting. And don't worry I am not pregnant - I have checked already. But I suppose you would be checking too if you had woken up at three-in-the-morning on the nose for the last five days vomiting ... Unless you were a man?!
Finishing work on Friday exhausted from my half-worked week, I arrived home and spent the night cuddling with Mr. Warehouse. After hearing that one of our work colleagues was getting engaged after a trip to Dublin I was pleased to hear that the European Capital had made such a profound impact on the couple who had asked for mine and Mr. Warehouse's advice on where to go and what to do there after our Christmas/Valentines Trip in February. Mulling it over dinner, Mr. Warehouse then exclaimed that he himself had also considered proposing to me whilst on the Green Isle. This I was shocked by. Sat their open mouthed over the dinner table I was stunned that I had been so close to being "wifed".
Totally bewildered and stunned by this revelation I asked Mr. Warehouse how and where and when and why but the only real response I got was that it would have been at some point on our drunken night out in Temple Bar or maybe at a few other romantically set scenes across the city, of which I suspect the Zoo was one of them. He explained that whilst he has yet to buy a ring, ask my dad, get me a manicure and gain advice from Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and they are just the basic things needed in proposing to the one you love.
I think it panicked me slightly that whilst we are now living together in my little flat and the dog has moved in also, I sometimes find myself missing the fact that we used to hardly see each other. Whenever Mr. Warehouse was due to come round I would clean my home in a frantic mission to make it look beautifully tidy and presentable. I would make a conscience effort to look good all the time around him and I really miss the days when we would just go out for a walk or meet up for a date. I enjoyed the fact that it was my flat and whilst I am more than happy now sharing that with the other half and the fluff ball, I miss the days when it was all brand new. I know that my friends and I are getting to an age where people are getting hitched, having babies and buying houses but I don't honestly know if I am ready for that right now. I want more that life has to offer before all that. I want to travel more and experience things before all my priorities get ploughed into a house, husband or hordes of offspring.
I love Mr. Warehouse to pieces but I often wonder for his own well-being. I want him to be a little more like me sometimes and have a bit more get up and go. Find a better job so he doesn't have to work crappy shifts so that he can earn more money, in turn making some new friends or rekindling old ones so as to create a social life instead of just being in front of the TV all the time. Playing rugby or another sport, going off down the pub to watch the football or crashing round someones house to have an all nighter on the Xbox; All of these things I think would make him into a better person and ergo make him feel better and more confident in himself. I worry that as I did in the past, Mr. Warehouse is consuming himself with my presence and to be brutally honest it makes me feel guilty when I go out with the girls or try to plan holidays as I know he doesn't have any other avenue to socialise other than his huge extended family or a few work colleagues. As harsh as it sounds if I knew that Mr. Warehouse did not have as many hobbies and activities outside of our relationship as I do now then things might be different, but then on the other hand, in a way I knew all of this when I first met him and I still continued to date him so something must be there beyond just lust?!
I suppose with all of this comes compromise and prioritising your problems and issues. We have to sort out each fault in life one at a time. Rome wasn't built in a day and neither can a new life for someone. I know where I want to be and what I want out of life in the future, I just question sometimes when I will be ready and how will I know I am ready because for me, with everything I have been through as a late-teen and in my early-twenties I am now at a point most people my age are past. I wanna go out and party through the night, getting in when the sun's coming up, having wild parties and creating memories I will never forget. I am still the college-grad that wants to party away her weekends in flowery headbands and glittery make-up as opposed to spending them settling down and creating the foundations for a future with someone.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 28 September 2015
The Pitter Patter of ... Paws!
Hello Dear's,
So after last week's irresponsibility of getting drunk like some crazed twenty-three-year-old I welcomed in my first full weekend as a twenty-four-year-old by adopting. Well at least the furry kind of adoption anyway.
Due to a pre-arranged Gamers event in Birmingham Mr. Warehouse and Mr. CWG were going to it was left pretty much down to moi to look after Mr. Warehouse's dog - A Golden Retriever/Labrador. But she was far from the lady she had been when I visited her at home with Mr. Warehouse, spending long weekends frolicking by the lake and bounding through the local woodlands of the nature reserve that backs onto the home Mr. Warehouse shares with his Mom. Ahh yes, the mutt was living up to her name. A right little bitch!
After considering for a few days, in fact come to think about it most of the week, I had finally settled on the fact that I would take the pooch on the Bus, or at least attempt too. So after making sure we had all the puppies bowls, food and toys and whilst bidding a fond farewell to Mr. Warehouse (please note at this point that I was not keeping her forever and that in less than twenty-four-hours he would be with the pup again) it was brought up that my boyfriend, the (somewhat) tough-guy, was putting on a brave face. Looking like a mother outside a nursery for the first time I left, promptly being dragged out of the door by an eager little madam.
Arriving at the bus stop we waited. But the longer we waited the more she whimpered. I could see Mr. Warehouse hanging from an upstairs window, leaning out to get a better view of us awaiting our ride.
"Should have just called a cab" I thought as I stood in the cold, knowing in my heart that the little fluffy mess beside me would be a handful. But just as I went to pat her on the head round rolled the bus, our saviour! As the doors opened I prayed we would be allowed on. It was early evening and the rush-hour had somewhat passed so there was minimal people occupying the seats and so I thought it best to grab a seat big enough for her to sit and lie down if she wanted to. She didn't.
Around every corner or as we pulled off from a junction or bus stop she would be still, sitting nicely and being what a good girl should be when on public transport. but the second that bus was up and moving she was too. Nearly forty-minutes later and with my black leggings now caked thick with her blonde fur as was the floor of the bus we quickly thanked the driver and exited the bus. Thankful for it not to be raining we walked lead-in-hand along the bank of the Great River Ouse I looked up and admired the strings of pretty fairy lights that donned the tree's and bridges.
"This would be perfect if I wasn't carrying so much and this little cow was playing ball" I questioned as I tried to walk quicker and get us both home as quickly and as pain free as possible. As soon as we were through my door though I was happy. Calling back an anxious Mr. Warehouse I made sure she was fed and watered so as to put her owner's mind to rest.
"Now go out and enjoy yourself down the pub. Have a few and have fun tomorrow OK?" I encouraged as Mr. Warehouse explained how Mr. CWG had asked him down to their local. But soon after the telly went on it was going off again.
My Uncles from my mother's side were in town and I decided that since the dog was now settled and relatively happy I would join them for dinner at a little Italian place in town called Amici's. Wonderful food, wine and conversation flowed as we all enjoyed the evening talking about the Titanic - A firm favourite subject of mine, Current affairs, the migrant crisis and the latest on what grotesque things politicians have done this week involving a love of bacon and sausages even I couldn't top. Dinner consisted of Deep Fried Whitebait, an all time classic, followed by a slow-cooked duck breast smothered in a Creamy Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce with Potatoes and Veg. To end I did consider the Tiramisu but I was full to the rafters and couldn't squeeze any more in. Instead I pussied out with a glass of water and some Coffee Gelato. Finishing off dinner, my uncles and I were the last to leave the restaurant and with promises of seeing each other soon we parted ways and I entered my home to find that my once chocolate brown carpet was now replaced with a patchy beige one. Talking to the dog as though it understood me I stripped to my P.J's and curled up on the couch with the Missus and watched some naff TV before I realised I was, like the dog, falling asleep.
The following morning I was awoke with a kiss like no other I have received in the morning and something I would not opt for again. Then I did something shocking and totally awful. I went. *Gasp* No Bra. *Shriek* No Underwear. *Scream* Hair in a mess and with no make-up on ... I took the dog for a wee! Yes I have my own concrete patio but she is much a diva and will only poop and piddle on grass so after walking down the the other end of the street and back again I was please that no-one was up at 08:30am to see what a horrible mess I was. Spending the afternoon with my Grandma, Aunty and cousin from again my mothers side of the family I was slightly glad of the fact that the dog was not around my feet. And as I sit in my flat now I am also glad of this fact once more.
Mr. Warehouse returned shortly after it got dark on Saturday evening and good lord it was not soon enough. I did not mind looking after the mongrel but boy was she hard work. Pulling on her lead, not defecating where I wanted her too and whining constantly it made me completely re-evaluate my life both with and without a dog. You see, for a very, very, very long time I had wanted a dog of my own, something to cuddle and snuggle with, to practise being a parent to and for general company to come home to after a hard days work. When the nights are cold and long and dark and all you have is yourself and that half-bottle of wine in the fridge you really feel like having a little buddy their beside you. But now I know it is not that simple. You have to feed them, which I did successfully morning and night time. But then you have to walk them, again no problem. Brush them, OK slight hairy duty but not if I opted for a short-haired breed.
Don't get me wrong I loved having the puppy over, but it was alot of hard work. I think that I maybe need some more time before I open up my life and share my home with anyone, especially a furry four-legged friend of the dog variety. Maybe in a years time or so. But before all that I have a whole heap of travelling to do. And so brings me nicely round to my third holiday of the year ... Kavos with the Tweedles 2015! This time next week I will be writing to you from somewhere hopefully hot and with a cocktail nearby in Sunny Corfu.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So after last week's irresponsibility of getting drunk like some crazed twenty-three-year-old I welcomed in my first full weekend as a twenty-four-year-old by adopting. Well at least the furry kind of adoption anyway.
Due to a pre-arranged Gamers event in Birmingham Mr. Warehouse and Mr. CWG were going to it was left pretty much down to moi to look after Mr. Warehouse's dog - A Golden Retriever/Labrador. But she was far from the lady she had been when I visited her at home with Mr. Warehouse, spending long weekends frolicking by the lake and bounding through the local woodlands of the nature reserve that backs onto the home Mr. Warehouse shares with his Mom. Ahh yes, the mutt was living up to her name. A right little bitch!
After considering for a few days, in fact come to think about it most of the week, I had finally settled on the fact that I would take the pooch on the Bus, or at least attempt too. So after making sure we had all the puppies bowls, food and toys and whilst bidding a fond farewell to Mr. Warehouse (please note at this point that I was not keeping her forever and that in less than twenty-four-hours he would be with the pup again) it was brought up that my boyfriend, the (somewhat) tough-guy, was putting on a brave face. Looking like a mother outside a nursery for the first time I left, promptly being dragged out of the door by an eager little madam.
Arriving at the bus stop we waited. But the longer we waited the more she whimpered. I could see Mr. Warehouse hanging from an upstairs window, leaning out to get a better view of us awaiting our ride.
"Should have just called a cab" I thought as I stood in the cold, knowing in my heart that the little fluffy mess beside me would be a handful. But just as I went to pat her on the head round rolled the bus, our saviour! As the doors opened I prayed we would be allowed on. It was early evening and the rush-hour had somewhat passed so there was minimal people occupying the seats and so I thought it best to grab a seat big enough for her to sit and lie down if she wanted to. She didn't.
Around every corner or as we pulled off from a junction or bus stop she would be still, sitting nicely and being what a good girl should be when on public transport. but the second that bus was up and moving she was too. Nearly forty-minutes later and with my black leggings now caked thick with her blonde fur as was the floor of the bus we quickly thanked the driver and exited the bus. Thankful for it not to be raining we walked lead-in-hand along the bank of the Great River Ouse I looked up and admired the strings of pretty fairy lights that donned the tree's and bridges.
"This would be perfect if I wasn't carrying so much and this little cow was playing ball" I questioned as I tried to walk quicker and get us both home as quickly and as pain free as possible. As soon as we were through my door though I was happy. Calling back an anxious Mr. Warehouse I made sure she was fed and watered so as to put her owner's mind to rest.
"Now go out and enjoy yourself down the pub. Have a few and have fun tomorrow OK?" I encouraged as Mr. Warehouse explained how Mr. CWG had asked him down to their local. But soon after the telly went on it was going off again.
My Uncles from my mother's side were in town and I decided that since the dog was now settled and relatively happy I would join them for dinner at a little Italian place in town called Amici's. Wonderful food, wine and conversation flowed as we all enjoyed the evening talking about the Titanic - A firm favourite subject of mine, Current affairs, the migrant crisis and the latest on what grotesque things politicians have done this week involving a love of bacon and sausages even I couldn't top. Dinner consisted of Deep Fried Whitebait, an all time classic, followed by a slow-cooked duck breast smothered in a Creamy Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce with Potatoes and Veg. To end I did consider the Tiramisu but I was full to the rafters and couldn't squeeze any more in. Instead I pussied out with a glass of water and some Coffee Gelato. Finishing off dinner, my uncles and I were the last to leave the restaurant and with promises of seeing each other soon we parted ways and I entered my home to find that my once chocolate brown carpet was now replaced with a patchy beige one. Talking to the dog as though it understood me I stripped to my P.J's and curled up on the couch with the Missus and watched some naff TV before I realised I was, like the dog, falling asleep.
The following morning I was awoke with a kiss like no other I have received in the morning and something I would not opt for again. Then I did something shocking and totally awful. I went. *Gasp* No Bra. *Shriek* No Underwear. *Scream* Hair in a mess and with no make-up on ... I took the dog for a wee! Yes I have my own concrete patio but she is much a diva and will only poop and piddle on grass so after walking down the the other end of the street and back again I was please that no-one was up at 08:30am to see what a horrible mess I was. Spending the afternoon with my Grandma, Aunty and cousin from again my mothers side of the family I was slightly glad of the fact that the dog was not around my feet. And as I sit in my flat now I am also glad of this fact once more.
Mr. Warehouse returned shortly after it got dark on Saturday evening and good lord it was not soon enough. I did not mind looking after the mongrel but boy was she hard work. Pulling on her lead, not defecating where I wanted her too and whining constantly it made me completely re-evaluate my life both with and without a dog. You see, for a very, very, very long time I had wanted a dog of my own, something to cuddle and snuggle with, to practise being a parent to and for general company to come home to after a hard days work. When the nights are cold and long and dark and all you have is yourself and that half-bottle of wine in the fridge you really feel like having a little buddy their beside you. But now I know it is not that simple. You have to feed them, which I did successfully morning and night time. But then you have to walk them, again no problem. Brush them, OK slight hairy duty but not if I opted for a short-haired breed.
Don't get me wrong I loved having the puppy over, but it was alot of hard work. I think that I maybe need some more time before I open up my life and share my home with anyone, especially a furry four-legged friend of the dog variety. Maybe in a years time or so. But before all that I have a whole heap of travelling to do. And so brings me nicely round to my third holiday of the year ... Kavos with the Tweedles 2015! This time next week I will be writing to you from somewhere hopefully hot and with a cocktail nearby in Sunny Corfu.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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