Vertu Honda-Why We Love Our Car (even though it’s a bit rubbish)

Vertu Honda asked us to tell them (and you, my lovely readers), why we love our car!

Before I continue, I’d like to point out, we don’t own a flash car-it’s a Renault Laguna. It makes funky noises (not good funky) when you turn it on/move it/turn it, it doesn’t look amazing, and it’s quite old.

However, it is our car, and, we have reasons we love it so much.


Continue reading “Vertu Honda-Why We Love Our Car (even though it’s a bit rubbish)”

Pocket Notebooks-Esmie,Rhodia & Papio Press Review

Forget the App, there’s a Pocket Notebook for that…

The lovelies over at Pocket Notebooks very kindly sent me some notebooks to review.


Who are Pocket Notebooks?

Pocket Notebooks are on a mission, to remind people about those good old days, when we didn’t reach for our phone to make notes-when a pocket notebook was all we needed.

The noise and insistence of technology is constant. A notebook takes us to a world that we choose. A world where the only sound is our sound.

Continue reading “Pocket Notebooks-Esmie,Rhodia & Papio Press Review”

30 Million Minutes*

Right, before I write anything else, this isn’t something I usually do.  I’ve never reviewed a TV programme/episode, I usually leave the critiquing to Ian Hyland-but I just couldn’t leave this one alone.

You see, since as early as was acceptable, my hero-my Dad, used to let me watch French & Saunders with him.  I then became a ridiculously massive fan of the Vicar of Dibley, Jam and Jerusalem, and mainly anything with Dawn French in.

Dawn French, very quickly became one of my comedy heroes.

On New Years Eve, the critically acclaimed show, 30 Million Minutes, was shown on BBC4.

Unsure of what kind of show it was going to be, I have to say I assumed it would be a whole 2 hours of stand up comedy.  But it was so much more than that.  It was basically an autobiographical show-the life of Dawn French!
People like Dawn French-well, anyone in the public eye I suppose-seem to have been moulded in our heads using a preconceived idea of who we think they are.
What doesn’t help are media morons, trying to convince us (badly), that what they print is true.
Social media platforms, where the age old game of “Chinese Whispers” comes into play-in the form of tweets/statuses, spreading untrue rumours.
And, as Dawn mentions during this show, horrible, nasty, vile arseholes idiots, who would happily mess with a child’s life to make a quick buck from a book full of crap.

So, imagine my surprise, when, while watching this glorious woman’s show, even though she’s double my age (sorry Dawn), I found the most amazing, and heartbreaking similarities in our lives.

I cried, I laughed, I laughed and cried at the same time.  

I felt my heart break all over again, when she re-lived her miscarriage, something she kept so private-like I initially did with my first one.  Who knew this amazing, funny, beautiful, open woman, had lost a baby-just like me.

I sat, open mouthed, at the detail in which she went into, when speaking about her father’s suicide when she was only 19.  My eyes glancing over at the photo of my life hero-my Father, imagining how it would’ve felt to lose him at such a young age.

I cried, so much, over her descriptions of her Grandmothers, because the similarities in them and my own Grandmothers was so unbelievable!

And, I recalled my own memories of my Mother and Father’s divorce, and looked at it from another angle, when she explained how one day, she just knew it wasn’t working with Lenny, and decided to put herself and her “truth” first for a change.
All those years of listening to why my parents had split-and never really understanding, finally made sense.  What Dawn and my Dad have in common (aside from age), is that they followed their hearts-and now, both remarried, know what they did was right for them!

If you haven’t seen it yet, none of these things are spoilers.  The context in which Dawn speaks about these life lessons and experiences, aren’t anything you can read in an article or blog.  They really have to be watched to be experienced fully.
Also, if you haven’t watched it yet, please don’t think its full of misery.  Somehow, Dawn manages to make you flip from heartbreak to hilarity in a matter of moments, and, at one point, I genuinely couldn’t work out if my tears were from crying at an earlier story, or laughing hysterically at another tale from her past years (the glass on the car seat literally had me in pain laughing).

To sum up-the entire 120 minutes, of Dawn’s 30 Million Minutes, are just unforgettable.  If you haven’t watched it, go watch it.  If you have watched it, go watch it again-and lets start some kind of DVD release petition-because I absolutely must own this show forever!

Thank you Dawn-for, well you know, everything!


*I stole the above photo from The Telegraph-just in case anyone was wondering!

She is mine.


I’ve been deliberating for ages about not only writing this blog post, but publishing it too.

I feel a little abnormal, and that I might end up regretting admitting something so personal, that people may find odd.  So this blog basically started as a draft post, just for me to write my feelings down.


It’s only after speaking with a friend today, and explaining to her the reason I write is to stop people feeling alone and having common ground in what they’re going through, that I think there might be others in the situation I’m in.


SO here goes…….

You know when someone shares something on Facebook that basically says “do you ever look at your child and can’t believe you made them?” (or something along those lines).

That’s how I felt with my son, that’s how I still feel about him.  I know he’s mine, I’ve never felt any differently, I look at him and there’s no doubt in my mind, no niggle in my messed up brain that thinks otherwise.


My daughter however, I feel differently about.

I’m not sure if it’s the miscarriages, the recurrent losses and heartache I faced each time I lost another baby.  Maybe it’s the detachment of feeling, that came from worrying constantly about the pregnancy with my daughter, my fifth pregnancy.

Please don’t misunderstand what I’m saying-I love her with all of my being, my children are my entire world and more, but sometimes, I look at her, and think, “I don’t feel like you’re mine”.  “I don’t feel like you belong to me”.

It’s always a fleeting thought, and it’s over in seconds, with my subconscious convincing me that she obviously is mine.  That I pushed all 9lb 2.5oz of her chubby body out of my lady parts, that I have been with her every day since the day she was born, nurturing her, teaching her and loving her.

She is mine, she looks like me, acts like me, speaks like me.  She needs me, loves me, and when it’s just us, I am her person, her ‘go to’ and comfort.

For some reason, all those rational thoughts go out of the window every now and again, when I look at my beautiful little girl and think “you can’t be mine”.


I know it’s denial, but lets be serious here, denial for over 3 years is pretty huge.  

It’s just another effect left over from the utter trauma and devastation I went through when going through my miscarriages.  It’s the denial I felt every time I not only fell pregnant, but when I lost the babies, then when I kept hitting milestone after milestone, seeing scan after scan, with my daughter.  I convinced myself she wouldn’t be mine, just like the others, and from that, comes this long term denial I’m now stuck with.

I’m confident I won’t feel like this forever, and am thankful that it doesn’t affect our bond or the extent of my love for her, but its another thing to remind me how let down I was following my miscarriages, from the lack of aftercare and help I received, and that’s something that will be harder to move on from, for a long long time.