8th June: York Pride

I was feeling shitty last night and messaging a friend having a right old whinge. She suggested Emily and I come to York early and have tea and chat at hers before we wander into the city to meet one of our other single mum friends to follow the Pride march onto the racecourse.

We left the house in an absolute state. I left it until the very last minute to get Emily up. We are bedsharing and she wakes when I move so I felt bad waking her up. I tried to do it gently by singing and opening the blind but she wasn’t having it. I tried creeping away while she slept but as soon as I was out of bed she was shouting at me so I just brought her along while I got ready.

We had a bit of a chat at my friend’s house but with a nine month old, four year old and five year old it’s not that easy.

Then we set off, it was bloody WET so I have way less photos than I would have bothered with. And I dropped £30 which pissed me right off.

BUT I did get a pulled pork burrito and I bloody love a burrito and feel that they aren’t sold in enough places. We walked from the minster to the racecourse and then back past the train station to her house. My phone reckons we did 7 miles and I am seriously impressed the five year old managed it. Although I did have to crack out an old marching song I learnt at summer camp and a bit of eye spy to keep the enthusiasm levels up.

Then on the drive home I just got really lonely and upset so I called my dad to cheer me up. I had Google maps shouting at met, the baby crying in the back and my dad on speaker which was all a bit much and I got a but stressed but before I got chance to find somewhere safe to park she fell asleep.

When I got home to my bombsite I thought FUCK IT PIZZA and got a Dominoes delivery ordered through the app (cheeseburger pizza, garlic bread, wedges, cookies and coke). The impending delivery was enough to spur me into action and tidied up the worst of the mess. Sat down with a massive food order, sugary drink and the leftover mini bottle of wine from last night I felt a little happier.

I read and article in Red about intuitive eating where you don’t diet but just sort of eat what you are craving until you’ve had enough. In the spirit of things I left my two cookies for later.

Later wasn’t much later. After dinner Emily managed to acquire the pack of bread sticks from the dining table (how?!) and throw them across the room. When I went to tidy up I intuitively knew I needed those remaining biscuits.

Emily was having a fabulous time making mess and laughing about it so I let the mayhem continue and watched various videos on Caroline Hirons blog which I’m getting really into at the moment. She is to skincare what Mrs Hinch is to cleaning (just as an aside I absolutely hate everything Mrs Hinch stands for, chill out love, anti bacterialing your home to death is SO NEUROTIC chill the F out). Basically I am messy and hate the thought of all these immaculate homes. I like messy homes where I can relax.

Anyway now I’m in bed, I’ve cheered up a little but I am certainly drifting back to that…are we doing the right thing state of insanity.

I have been reading this high level piece of psychology:

Before you think it I know I’m not really a wife anymore…but it is also for people who are separated so whatever. And I know it is high level writing because when you Google it the ‘people also searched for’ includes titles such as He Doesn’t Love Me and He’s Texting Someone Else and there is also Winning Your Husband Back so now you know I’m onto a winner and this and other such books are likely to turn my life around.

This is EXACTLY how I envisaged spending my Saturday nights while on maternity leave.

I ❤️ my life.

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