Tag: me

Baby Name Reveal

I was very up in the air with whether we were going to announce Baby Bathgate’s name before she was born, purely on the basis that everyone has opinions and despite being clear on her name people still feel the need to say to me ‘but what about…’ like, you think I didn’t go through every single tedious blog post of popular baby names? Or stand in Waterstones reading pages and pages of ‘The most unusual baby names 2018?’ before I finally came back to the very first decision we ever made (before she was even conceived).

A lot of people say to me ‘oh but as soon as you see her you’ll probably change your mind, you never know’ and this is true, I don’t know for definite that when I’ve been in agony for 24+ hours and high on any drug available I wont suddenly decide to change my mind. But I’m 99.9% confident I won’t.

If I have to sit through another channel five film where my mom goes ‘oooh! That’s a lovely name what do you think of that!?’ I think I will go crazy. Besides its pretty conclusive now considering we are having personalised gifts and a giant pillow with her name embroidered on. I mean, I’d look a little silly if I named my child something different to what was written on her blankets and I just had some randomer’s name on show in her room like a shrine…

With that said, I know you all mean well and I know the name of my child is somehow a very important aspect of your life, but no Margret, she won’t be named after you and yes Norman, not you either, not even with ‘jr’ on the end, cause she’s a girl (or at least I hope so at this point).

And contrary to popular belief, she ain’t called Frank either, even though my dad has been spreading that around and continues to call her Frank for some strange reason. Sad thing is she’s probably heard it so much at this point that she’ll respond to the name when she’s born.

But to not keep you waiting because I know like 80% of you probably haven’t read anything i’ve written and only clicked on to find out her name (which I take no offence to because I’d do the same and I’m a sucker for click bait).

Her name will be (don’t hate on me if it does somehow end up in a completely different ball park)…

Ophelia Rose Bathgate.

I’ve always loved the name Ophelia since reading hamlet when I was 15 and I was lucky enough that john loves the unusually beautiful name also. The most common abbreviation is ‘Effy’ and as much as I quite like that I think I’ll probably end up calling her Ophelia anyway, purely for the novelty. I’ve already heard a lot of different versions and puns of her name and so don’t feel shy to take the piss, I wont take offence just yknow, keep it jokey. I don’t want you to legit come up to me and call my child bastard or something like we are in Game of Thrones, but I do have a sense of humour so you’re all good to make a joke.

Gavin, you’re all good to keep on with the ‘ I feel ya, Ophelia’ but just don’t say it when she’s born and in public cause yknow I think there could be a law suit on your hands there.

And mom, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call her ‘Effin’ hell’ when she’s born also, cause knowing my luck it’ll end up being her first words.

Finally dad, continue the frank if you must for the next 3 months, but I don’t want her to be born and have some sort of identity crisis not knowing whether her real name is frank or not and grow up as psychologically damaged as your dog.

As usual, thanks for listening to my rambles and moans, to support the blog please like and share!

xoxo

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What I Actually Do – Day in the life of a Crohnie

Last week when I was having my 10am trip to the sick bowl, I was watching an interview, or rather a ‘debate’ on This Morning involving two women. One woman was a full time stay at home mom and the other a 9 – 5 working mother, and as much as I applaud the efforts of the working mom she caused a lot of uproar with branding the other as ‘lazy’ and questioning what exactly stay at home mom’s do.
This is a close debate to me because very often some ignorant person slides into my dm’s to ask me exactly ‘what I do?’ and yes I am a self proclaimed lazy arse, but I also work hard and do not do “nothing.” After talking to a lot of other Crohn’s sufferers I find myself telling them to not feel guilty about doing nothing or achieving nothing more than a 6 hour nap on a day they aren’t feeling great and yet I feel myself having to justify what exactly I do still.


So first off I’m going to state that I don’t feel I have to justify myself but there are a lot of you who are non-maliciously, genuinely interested in what a week is like for myself as a Crohn’s sufferer, work from home, M.E diagnosed, pregnant, student.
Already, my illnesses are a type of job, they are something I live with everyday and they can determine the path I go down in my life. A year and a half ago I gave up work to focus on my health and have not returned to a career since, and I do not regret that, nor do I feel like I am lazy or a ‘doll scrounger’ because of my choice to focus on being mentally and physically well over the 9-5 grind. I work hard to do normal tasks some days, sometimes getting dressed is an exhausting task or even a walk with Luna (despite the fact she’s pop-eye on a leash) can tire me out for the entire day and with the build up of my exhaustion comes a flare up, with a flare up comes a debilitating change in life, days in hospital and watching loved ones suffer the thought of what will happen to me this time. So when I say I do not work full time or have a ‘proper career’ I am not ashamed or feel guilty for being a stay at home person and any other chronic illness sufferer should not feel guilty that they too cannot work or cannot pay into the state like many other people in society can and do.
With that said this is what an AVERAGE day (there are obviously days I lie around in a vegetative state with one arm round my sick bowl and the other in a pic n mix tub watching Netflix) looks like for me.0001
I wake up when my natural body clock wakes me up, because if I don’t, boy do I know about it. On the days I have to set an alarm I fight a battle of morning sickness and body fatigue as my digestive system hasn’t clocked in yet, my body has awoken before my functions have and so they work at dysfunctional time differences. So majority of the time I let myself wake up naturally to avoid any premature trips to the toilet and alleviate the chances of a midday nap. I go down to luna, who has already attempted her prison breaks and escapology routines in which she somehow manages to escape her cage even with cable ties and a padlock on (I don’t even know how she does it but I can earn big bucks from her skills, Houdini is shaking in his grave). Feed her some goop whilst trying not to gag and then have a cup of tea, or on a bad sickness day, a cup of boiled water (wild, I know) and then run to the toilet and sick it all back up again…
“Welcome to the second trimester” they said… “Morning sickness will be going now” they said…
Well my stomach and my toilet disagree. So once ive gotten my vomiting out the way I go get dressed, which I think is the actual hardest part of the day. It’s the part where you mentally make the decision that your day is beginning and you mean business, despite feeling like its time to go back to bed already.
0003If it’s a work from home kinda day, then ill be lucky to be arsed to do my makeup cause that is commitment usually only saved for leaving the house. Joggers on, messy bun (that looks more like a sparse turd on my head because my hair is too thin to do a proper messy bun) and eyebrow-less. Our post lady (despite being half blind and unable to tell what number our house actually is) delivers my ‘blogger mail’ (again this is NOT something that happens EVERYDAY) with the same astonished expression that Michael Jackson really hasn’t died and is living at number 11 in her home town when I greet her. I spend a couple hours doing the house work and talking to the dog like a mad woman who has had no human contact in years whilst debuting my new album at top volume and a well-choreographed cordless vacuum dance to accompany it. Then by lunch time I have finished boring mundane chores and sit down to go through my emails. I argue with a few collaborators about how I deserve to be paid for advertising their brand or products and write up briefs or ‘pitches’ to them with my set fee in the hope they accept and delete all the spam about how I need a penis enlargement for my non-existent dick. Then if I have Instagram or blogging jobs to do I try to do them whilst its still light outside, setting up the brands product in some shitty layout and blab on about what I think of them in painstakingly unnecessary detail that the company are happy with. Although this proves to be a lot harder than anticipated because there are only so many flat lays or backgrounds I can use for variety within the four walls of my house (and yknow, eyebrows off means I ain’t leaving the house unless for emergencies).
If I don’t have any blogging or insta jobs to complete then I log onto my student account and do some of my uni work, or rather, I pretend im doing uni work but actually got side tracked by the latest serial killer documentary that I have on in the background and then come deadline day I cry into my laptop until ive finished and then repeat the whole cycle again come next assignment. The great thing about Open uni is its so flexible, if im having an ‘ill’ day, where I don’t get anything done, I’m not reprimanded or lectured, instead offered extra support should I want it. You get out exactly what you put in, and there’s no in-between. If I only do an hour a week of uni then I’m not in trouble for missing online lectures or activities, I just notice a decrease on my own ability come the next marked assignment. You are given your assignment due dates for the whole year when you start so there isn’t really any excuse as to why I could miss my August 2018 deadline because I knew it was coming from October 2017. Still, im a pro at leaving it to the last minute.
When I’ve finished work there is usually only an hour or so before john gets back from 0004work so I usually just chill, watch some shitty American tv show and sleep because by now im exhausted. Im exhausted every hour of the day thanks to Crohn’s but when my tasks are done that’s when I reward myself with a nap (it’s the best part of everyday). When john gets home and ive awoken like someone having a nightmare in a horror film, wondering what year it is and where ive been for the last decade, we take luna out for a run. She has developed a keen talent of finding any way possible to get into the River Trent and swims around for a little bit providing the current isn’t strong. If the current is strong, I turn into a crazed mother running after her screaming like she’s the kittens in the ‘Aristocats’ about to be swept away but she never is because y’know, shes a dog, shes a good swimmer. When ive finished having heart palpitations and accusing john of not caring or getting in the river after her, we head home and argue about what we want for tea. The system is fairly simple, ‘Did we have pasta yesterday?’ ‘No?’ ‘Pasta it is’. If the answer is yes its, ‘Okay think of something today and we’ll have pasta tomorrow’. I cook tea and we watch some shit tv before retiring like an old age pensioner to bed at like 10pm where I kid myself into thinking im going to finish my book tonight but instead end up falling asleep to family guy.
Like I said previously, days differ, sometimes I meet up with friends for a drink, sometimes I have to go to venues for various things, sometimes I am at doctors or hospital appointments or tests, some days I check up on the Etsy shop (full feature coming soon) and some days I do absolutely nothing.
So yeah, I do do ‘nothing’ but I don’t do ‘nothing’ at the same time and I’m not ashamed to not have a full time proper job. Of course on a bad day I think badly of myself, chastise myself for not being stronger or having the motivation to push through and get a 9-5 job and feel guilty that some people don’t have the choice but to work. But everybody has their own guilt battles, mom guilt, breaking a diet guilt, work guilt, not going to the gym guilt, spending money on irrelevant things guilt. It’s a natural part of mental health to feel guilty for things we have or do that we know others may not be as fortunate, but it doesn’t mean we are in the wrong. If you have a chronic illness and cannot work, if you are mentally effected by work or if ‘work’ is deteriorating your own health, there is no shame and nothing wrong with taking the back step. It doesn’t make you ‘lazy’ or a ‘doll scrounger’ or a ‘freeloader.’
In July I will be adding to my list of jobs, I will be a full time stay-at-home mom, and I have no shame in being just that. My life aspiration was to be a mother. So I am proud to be able to achieve that and focus all my energy into being the best full time mom.

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*As you may have noticed some of the photography is 100% better than any of my own, including the main header photo. These photos were taken and are owned by HND Photography student, Hayley Leaver. Click on any of her photos (Watermarked) to check out more of her work and show support. More of her images will be featured in upcoming posts.

xx

 

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22

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I’m not entirely sure what this post is gonna be about or even going to include but I thought I hadn’t written one in a while so imma try whack one out of these chubby little fingers of mine. As you know I turned 22, it was kind of unavoidable considering I’d plastered it all over social media and I’d promised John if he didn’t get the giant balloons so I can sing Taylor Swift ‘22’ and quote it in a cliché insta caption, then his life wouldn’t be worth living. But he pulled it off blaring it at 5am in the morning.

I spent my actual birthday doing the craziest, wildest shit ever, literally the best day of my life, I spent the morning…wait for it…completing a Sudoku. Not just any Sudoku, the extreme level Sudoku in the take a break mag. Really was a wild 22nd. But mom and dad did surprise me by coming to visit in the afternoon and we had cupcakes and did what civilised people do before I got to change into my ‘I don’t have to uphold a reputation and am free to ruin my life’ persona. My friends came over and we stuffed our faces with posh food, talked about politics and drank prosecco, like how 22 year old adults are supposed to act…(That’s adulting, right?) I’m joking I have the mental age of a 16 year old and go out with a man child so it was just like any other day, we were dicks that drank too much, broke the ‘No smoking we are sophisticated adults now’ ban, argued about Donald trump and slavery, cried about how old we are, wondered how the world began, joked about how we manage to hold down respectable careers, argued over who was paying the bill, bitched about our mutual enemies, smothered our dogs, laughed till we peed, shotted Raki till 6am and I shan’t go any further than that cause I’m sure you’d only love to know what Josie (professional accountant by day) gets up to by night…….

Turns out being 22 is the exact same as being 18 except you wake up with a horrible headache, next to the same man as the night before, a dog that’s pissed all over the floor and weep silently because you spent too much and can’t afford the mortgage. Oh, and a parking fine for parking outside your own house and being too fucked to drive it.

Same shit another year.
On the note of birthdays and friends I have a few blog posts coming up in the future (I’m lazy and they are all half-finished so imma say at least sometime before the year is up) about the lodge me and john spent my birthday week at and another one about “real friends” which is a little controversially honest to say the least, but until then, adios amigos.

xoxo

 

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Back where I belong.

I’ve got a lot of shit on my mind at the minute and it sparked me to decide to write it down, because that’s what I do best, writing. When I was old enough to write I’d make up stories, my dad worked at a printing company and he would bring home a box of blank a5 books for me and Alex to write in and we’d spend hours decorating the front with a title page for whatever shit story we decided this weeks was going to be about, my main debut novel (and I quote) ‘a girl going to Tesco and buying baguettes to go to France.’ I truly was the next Steven King, thrilling stuff.

When I was 13 and obsessed with heroes and prison break and just wondered why the fuck haven’t I got some sexy ass man trying to break out of prison for me, realising the kind of man who actually would be doing that in modern society would be some heroin smack head chav who had a long history of sex crimes and was in £10,000 debt to the JD store. Or when I called up my friend Beth one night (Calling was more efficient for us because our pay as you go bill would not cover the amount of shit we talked) because I realised super powers weren’t real and never in my life would peter petrelli fly to my bedroom window and we’d go ‘save the cheerleader’ together. (Kind of forgotten the point I was making here) oh yeah, I’d write it down.

When I was 19 and in hospital because my need for a Michael Scofield went too far and I ended up with some poor ass 30 yr old pussy who still shared a bedroom with his brother and thought he was hard cause he sniffed coke every night, who ultimately bullied me for 9 months, I wrote it down. With everything in my life I have resorted to writing, it is what I am meant to do and how I make myself feel better. Whether its real life or fiction, I immerse myself with a cute ass notebook and pen or the times new roman of a computer screen and let it out.

The point I’m trying to make by waffling on is that YouTube isn’t my thing, the people that manage my Instagram (Shameless plug here) or blog thought the best way to increase my revenue was to transfer into video content. Yes, I enjoy making videos and I love sharing my life with you all on my insta stories and of course I want to increase my fortnightly pay check so I was going to give it a go. But it’s been two weeks of making the YouTube channel and mentally it just isn’t right for me, it feels fake and staged and it feels like it’s so much hard work for nothing in return, it shows me it just isn’t for me. I get on YouTube you have to flaunt your ‘hypebeast’ vibe or start fake drama by claiming someone sexually assaulted your assistant (yes Jake Paul, you ignorant c*nt I’m talking about you) and that’s what get views, that’s what makes money. But I’m not about to go throwing some fake allegations just to get 10 year olds to watch my videos, I also am not going to sit down and show you all the amazing expensive clothes I’ve bought because it just feels fake. I love watching people’s videos, and it’s their talent, that’s what they are good at, but I’m not good at that, I’m good at writing it down.

I know for my phobia of always quitting things this is just another to tick of the list, but mentally this one is good for me to do. This one is detrimental to my mental health, I am not going to start making videos because it’s just not me, its forced and it shows in the content I make because I’m like the wooden plank from ‘ed, edd and eddy.’ Watching the insights page and subscriber count gets me down and makes me feel shit about myself for not posting the most controversial stuff or having an interesting and rich lifestyle. Instead I am going to continue the YouTube channel, but as a side project, I will do weekly vlogs and that is all because that is all that feels right to me. It feels natural and unstaged and it’s like an online diary of my year for me to look back on. If people decide they want to watch my boring ass life then cool, but I’m not going to take it to heart if you don’t.

And without further ado, if you guys, the people who empower one another, the people who make my day when they share their own experiences, the friends I have made in this community with their own amazing blogs – Trust your gut (Billie), The Alice Edit (Alice, obvs), Mamas Scrapbook (Anna) to name a few – or anyone else, want to follow some waffling posts then, “chatty” things will be on here.  

If you do decide you want to follow my weekly vlogs feel free, you will find them here, but like i said don’t expect them to be that interesting

Thanks guys

xoxo

 

*If you want to learn how to monetise your blog/instagram click on one of the photos below

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