Red Lipstick, Mothers, Daughters and Three Wishes

I woke up this morning as normal, got power dressed (which basically means tried not to look rough as shite) put my lucky red patent shoes on and slapped on some red lipstick. Me and my husband went to a children's home where the adoption offices are, for a fighting meeting about a baby girl.
I was sat on an over large sofa my feet didn't touch the floor, I felt like a child myself. I had my notes, three social workers facing me all staring at me with there heads tilted and smiling like fucking idiots but firing questions at me like bullets from a gun. I fought my corner, our corner, her corner.

It wasn't an ideal outcome, we agreed to compromise on our differences but the outcome was better than winning the lottery or getting the perfect job.....she's going to be ours! I can't believe I just typed that, she's there (less than 30 miles away) and I'm here, writing about her. She doesn't know me yet, I love her already. I've not even seen a picture yet but I love her, so so much.

Adoption is weird, no doubt about it, I was at the hospital the other day with my mum, my baby girl was born in my home town. I walked past the baby unit where she was born....she was there about a year ago to the day, her birth mother had walked on floor I had, looked at the same terrible paintings on the wall. She disappeared after ten days and my baby girl is finding her way home to Lotty towers, to mummy and daddy and her big brother.

When I was younger and now still, all I ever dreamed of was being and artist - check! Being married by the time I was 30 - check! Also having children, especially a girl, I'm particularly close to my mum, she's like the sister I never had and all I ever wanted was the chance to share the things I have shared and still do with my mum; do girly stuff and make memories to last a lifetime, simple things, they're always the best.
It seems in January all my dreams may have come true - shit a fucking brick, how cool is that! Yes it's cool, but it scary and wonderful at the same time, I have no expectations of her, or my son, I just want them to be themselves, follow their heart, be kind, loving and true to themselves always.

So there it is, dream number three; there are a zillion other things I want to do in my life but my three genie wishes just might be coming true. When I have looked my baby girl in the eyes and held her on my skin and kissed her little hands...the only thing left to do is place her in my mums arms and hold them both so tight and remember that moment for a life time, in my heart, in my mind, in my blood, in my bones.

The one thing that matters to me most in this world is remembering special moments and memories like that because you can search the world and look for happiness all your life, but it's that simple moment of love, with people you love, no matter how short, that means the most, that make you smile, laugh and cry all at the same time; here's to those moments and here's to cherishing them and holding them in our hearts forever.

See you soon baby girl.


Xxxx

Adoption

It's been a while kids, too long, but as all the best bloggs are this one is powered by passion. Here goes;

As most of you are aware I have an adopted son and my husband and I are adopting again, before I start I will say one thing that this not an anti-adoption blogg. If any of you are even considering it, don't consider a moment longer just do it; it's the most rewarding thing anyone can ever do, the joy of being a parent holds no bounds as you know but the joy of being an adoptive parent- well that's just the icing on the cake, the orgasm with sex and the breath of fresh air you take when reaching the top of a a mountain. (Just to be clear I've never actually reached the top of a mountain but I'm sure it's as I imagine.) Oh look at that I'm digressing...yes Lotty is back.

So without going into details for obvious reasons...there is a girl, a baby girl, the girl I'm not meant to get attached too yet, but I let my tough side slip and I already have and it could be like loosing the child I never met and I've never even seen a picture of....I didn't think that could happen in adoption but you live and learn eh.

Her nationality is not British but she was abandoned in my home town by her birth mother after a few days. She and the her birth mum had some serious diseases during and after pregnancy but thankfully baby is all clear now, her birth mother had no care whilst pregnant and well who knows..the file is very small and information is as sparse as cleaning products in my house. As with my son, I feel no anger towards her (I know many that would and do) I feel only empathy and sadness for her, no one chooses to make mistakes but her life obviously led her that way and I hope where ever she is that she is safe and healthy.

So last week we met with the powers that be and we were interviewed to see if they thought we were a good match (rather like interviewing a left foot to see if it gets on with the right foot.) Apparently I found out today they think we are a great match and we will make excellent parents for baby and were very impressed with us (well yeah...no shit Sherlock, don't they know they are dealing with Lotty here...if I'm going to do something and being a parent is no different I give my heart, soul, mind, last rolo and everything in-between.)

So what's problem? The problem is baby has a traditional very very distinctive name, a beautiful name in fact however because she was born in my home town this is a safety risk as far as we are concerned. Although there was no address for the birth mum, someone would have known her, the particular culture she is from has a very strong community here...she must have had friends, friends who knew her, friends who cared for her, friends who would know she was pregnant.
Therefore we are asking if we can give her a new name, and keep her birth name as her middle name.However it seems the clever social workers say no!

Yes, just as Zammo from Grange Hill said no drugs, the people from the social service say no! Where do you go from here? You tell me...I tell you what though I've had a few hours to digest this shit and I ain't turning my back on that little baby girl without a fight; even if I end up more battered and bruised than a rare steak in a boxing match with Ali.
They are saying it's the only thing her mother gave her, yes I understand this, but her mother gave her life, her looks, her soul and her breath. We understand the importance of it and we are willing to compromise to end of the earth...keep her original name on paperwork, let her choose her name when she is older but call her a new name for now.....anything, we won't deny her cultural heritage, we would even take her to her the country her blood is made from and let her see part of her identity in real life.

So at the moment the powers that be say no, like the man from Del Monte on a bad day, our social worker is feeding back to the powers that be tomorrow, I know they will still say no...so they better watch out because Lotty is going to kick some ass. Adoption is a long process but I didn't think I'd have to fight for for my baby girl....even more ironic that they want us, like us and are impressed by our personalities, understanding and skills as parents; but are potentially willing to put this baby's life on hold to find another match.

I haven't seen a picture of her, but I read her file and I wanted her, I wanted to look after her, to hold her on my skin and sing her to sleep, to mop up her sick when she pukes and to make her like my terrible cooking. It sounds stupid all this over a name, but safety HAS to be paramount when adopting and I can't believe I may have to give her up even before she was even mine, but tonight I decided we will fight because she deserves it, she deserves someone to give a shit about her and if I have to say good bye before looking into her eyes, as long as I have done everything in my power then I will have to live with the fact of never seeing her and knowing that maybe she just wasn't the one.

I'll keep you posted, let's just hope the next ones a happy one eh.

Wherever you are sweetheart, sleep tight, have sweet dreams because you deserve them and don't forget mummy and daddy will fight to the end so we can hear you sleeping in the next room. I know I shouldn't but I think I love you already.

XXX

Big Brother, Cooking Sherry and Ginger Biscuits

It’s been a while since I blogged, I think I might have forgotten how to do it, oh no, hold on look here we go.

 Funny old month or so in Lotty’s life, lots of private stuff going on that hurts sometimes a bit more than being stood on by a giant with a weight problem, however as you all know I’m an eternal optimist and last week a bit of light shined and I’m powering through as they say. Who the fuck are ‘they’ when people say that? Anyway, where was I? Oh yes what to blog about; I was pissed the other night (you know on cooking sherry, the good stuff mind) and I realized there are so many number of subjects I want to blog about but one that keeps cropping up and which has been a good source of my bright light this month is ‘social networking’.

It’s such a modern saying and I really don’t like the phrase, it makes me wince like when I’m epilating but it seems to be quite a source of smiles of late, but the difference is I used to fight it and think I shouldn’t be doing it, but now I don’t – ‘I am at one with ones social network’ For fucks sake…excuse me while I try and fold my legs across my knees and shave my head and start chanting whilst wearing a sheet!

Whatever your choice of poison (as you know mine is twitter) I love it because I actually get to say what I’m thinking and not give two flucks what people think. This is unique in life; it’s like having the freedom of a 5 year olds brain and mind of an adult in a sweet shop that doesn’t care about oral hygiene.  I used to like it to nosey at celebs, yes we’ve all done that and tried to think of one liners to get another one liner back…cheap thrill, good at the time…move on please thank you. I also used to love noseying into people’s lives, but now I go on there so see how people are, who I actually care about. I know I’ve met some friends for life on there and it’s a bit mind blowing to be honest but all rather lovely; people who I have met and will meet in the future (oh by the way this isn’t a license to ask to meet me, so freaks please kindly piss off, before meeting anyone I get them checked by FBI and frisked and always I have minders with me when I meet anyone.)

The whole social networking malarkey brings me back to people, I love people, I love meeting and mixing with people from all warps of life, cultures and backgrounds and Jesus if you don’t find em on twitter I think you’ve typed in twatter into Google by mistake. Of course nothing replaces meeting someone in real life, but twitter allows you to meet people you never normally would.  I love reading what’s going on in people’s minds, I don’t give a shit if you tell what you had for lunch, one day I might be interested and the another day I can just ignore it and scroll down.

Ultimately tough I like social interaction on any level, obviously real life is best. I have a knack for sussing people within five minutes of meeting them (some take longer but the Lotty force usually shines through) this is the reason why I love Big Brother; social interaction. Yes I know *rolls eyes* fluck off Lotty your thinking too deeply, no really it is. I watch it and I suss people/personalities out and watch how they rip each other up, look deeper than the gob, look at everything. Don’t get me wrong, yes it addictive trashy brain numbing entertainment but watch how the monkeys perform and act together in a confined space. Even today after it been rung out so many times like your swimming costume when you’re on holiday, look beyond the crap and look at the insecurities of people being forced to be socially interact with one another; it’s fascinating. Well I think so anyway, but I don’t go out much and I drink cooking sherry and watch big brother.  Don’t listen to this looser, she meets stranger off twitter and blogs complete crap whist sitting eating ginger biscuits.

There, you see you didn’t know that now did you…sometimes it’s good to share…share wisely but socially interact freely.

Until next time children xxx

Inside out pyjamas

Hello you people who can actually read, its Lotty's nonsense blog land again.

Funny old few days, friends will know what I mean, others will know I've been quiet..yes..that's when you know something is up with Lotty when she's quiet. Can't bloody stop me yapping on twitter as much as you can stop me winning a chocolate eating competition. Anyways digressing already, good start Lotty.

So tonight my boy went to bed in inside out pyjamas..my response; who give a fluck. I know people who would be calling social services at the thought..yes I really do know people like that..obviously not closely or anything, that would just be weird right?

We adopted my boy when he was 16 months, he's 4 now..I feel like he's been with us since I was in my twenties..after today I'm counting my blessings and he is one of them. My husband is one of the many others..without him I wouldn't have my boy, the two go together like left and right, Dempsey and Makepeace, egg and chips and wine on a Saturday night.

Its weird, I feel like I gave birth to him (my boy not my husband) we tried to have kids of our own, went for fertility stuff but when some one wanted to stick a needle up my you know what I said hold on a minute I'll think I'll get a kitten instead. Of course the old motherly instinct won the battle over the kitten (I mean basically they just meow, purr and shit right?) That's when one day, and I will never forget it for as long as I live adoption popped into my head. I was sat in bed one Monday morning and I remembered those Romanian babies on the news when I was a kid..I rang my husband and said "what do you think about adoption"...I was expecting a what the fuck is she on with now response..but he said..I love the idea..I think its great. So five minutes later I was researching the whole thing. From  that day it took, one house move and 3 years and our little one came to stay. Oh yes and zillion reports, checks, social worker visits but all of that shit was worth it.

Its strange I forget he's adopted, and whats even stranger is that I only remember when we are doing something lovely together...I always think..god what could your life have been and what a truly precious moment this is and I will hold in my heart until I am old and grey;it could be something at school that's hes achieved or something simply like dancing his heart out with me in the kitchen. His birth parents were drug addicts, from terrible homes. I hold nothing but empathy and sympathy for them I really do, they didn't choose to become addicts..who the fluck does. My son was born an addict and slept for the first three months of his life because his birth mum injected in her tummy when she was pregnant. Don't feel bitter towards her, I don't, she knew no better, she was never given love like most of us know love if we're lucky. If wasn't for her I wouldn't be a mummy. I have a few letters from her for my son when he is older and they will be more precious to him than gold and sometimes I just wish I could tell her he's OK and he's happy and he's a little sod and he sings to me and he's just so loving and kind and caring sometimes I could burst with pride. His eyes light up a room even though he can't see very well because something made them poorly...it might be genetics, it might have been the drugs but it doesn't matter because he can laugh and smile and play and learn and be part of this wonderful place that is the world.

I don't know to this day if I could ever conceive my own child, I don't need to know...its strange I'm a bossy control freak that likes to know everything, but the most personal thing about myself I have no yearning to know. If it ever happened I'd prob faint with shock...but really it doesn't matter to me because my son in mine, is ours. I teach him to share and to be kind and when not to talk about willies in public (ya know all good life stuff) I love him more than I ever thought I could anything in this world..just as a birth mother would and could if we ever got the chance.

So in the scale of things, when I see those children in Africa starving and sick and walking for week to get to a hospital that can offer them no help, it doesn't matter about the sad start to my sons life, it doesn't matter if his bedrooms a tip or his pyjamas are inside out; it matters he's loved - and boy he is that.

xxxx

Just like Tesco's?

Yowsers, what a day folks. I've been working on an arts festival day to celebrate an arts centres 10th birthday. I was involved in the setting up of it all that time ago working with a fabulous arts development team; all of which now are close friends and one very important member is sadly no longer with us.

Mixed emotions today because of that, if it wasn't for this particular guy the arts centre would never have happened, I wouldn't be where I am now and I would probably be working in Tesco's. Nothing wrong with that I know but people have always told me I'm artistically talented, I guess so, I never honestly really thought about it; I just do it and see what happens. Yes I studied for 6 years, but this guy taught me my trade if you will, gave me the vision and the confidence to make my ideas happen.....this believe me is priceless when your an artist, because lets face it, artists are better off dead, right?

When I was feeling sad today and thinking about this friend of mine who died when he was only 50 in his prime and with so much to live for...what happened? Well I began to smile, because he was a character, a man who had terrible loud taste in shirts but because of him, all of those people, families and kids wouldn't have enjoyed any of those things today if he hadn't been on this small planet for a short 50 years. Street performers, genius music mural painters, contortionist, graffiti artists, me with me little workshop. I was proud to know him and I know he was looking down with a horrific Hawaiian shirt on and smiling his big cheeky smile and saying 'Charlotte, your doing great, crack on love.'

I love my job, I am honoured and proud to be able to get paid to put my creative ideas into practice. Funny though; today I was mentoring a young girl, she must have been about 19 tops. Full circle I guess you call that, me showing her how to do workshops and look as if you know what your doing...basically I spent 6 hours showing her how to be confident and blag it (well maybe a bit more than that) oh yes, and of course to always locate the good coffee before you even set up.

I was surrounded today by at first glance a outing from the local funny farm, a goth/rock bloke compare contortionist from Newcastle who looked like he might jump you and take your bag..turned out to be one of the funniest guys I've ever met. I've met two guys from London, an animator and a music muralist who's creative talent and execution were worthy of a turner prize, a teenage transsexual with a heart of gold, two people who were, well actually gold, two big chickens made of pan scrubbers, a mosaic artist so far up her own arse she was talking shite and a bunch of other people wearing wigs walking about with white painted faces and fake moustaches! Yes I know..I'm really not making this shit up..this was my day...I wonder if you get that working in Tesco's....maybe you do, I'll have to pop round next Saturday and have a peek.

So that was my day, don't tell me, your was just the same...well in that case...the worlds bloody brilliant isn't it...lets rock its arse off and live forever..because we all do you know, which ever way we choose to leave our mark.

Big hugs all, thanks for reading xxxx

Finally

I said months ago I would post some of my art work..here's the link lovelies

www.flickr.com/photos/charlotteartist76

x Lotty

P.S - If you don't like it..that's okay..its art man..every ones not meant too! xx

Sea Breeze

Sea Breeze

Funny old land this Twitter malarkey, its a place where you speak to people everyday and you get to know them, their thoughts, feelings, emotions, humour, worries, fears and rants. I'm me on Twitter, but some times the dark side of me; the one no-one sees in the light of day or night, the one that rants and moans. In 'real life' I rarely moan, perhaps to a select few close friends and mum..but on twitter I can moan and not worry about making someone I love worry about me.

I absolutely sure my followers think I'm a nut case..it doesn't matter, I don't care, I'm me..twitter opened a door of fresh sea breeze that washes over me like a sharp cold morning air....one that was ajar for a little while and was screaming to be pushed open. Its my place of solice and comfort where no one knows me and can free fall as fast or as slow as I like.

The biggest thing I love about twitter is reading peoples thoughts..it makes me tick..I have an ocean of thoughts everyday and I'm bewildered to think where all mine went before twitter. People thoughts and minds are the essence of who we are and the picture just adds another dimension; whenever I meet someone I don't look at there body or clothes I look into their eyes and start talking...I like to know how peoples minds work, how there soul shines and how they see life. Peoples minds and hearts are a reflection of there true self and their soul; sometimes you get to see someones a little bit on twitter and its a priceless gift you won't find in any store.

So I guess I'll carry on reading peoples thoughts and sharing my own..ranting..being loony..sharing my day and hope I get to see a glimmer of some interesting and beautiful people like the ones I've seen so far.

Thanks twitter, thanks for giving me a place to store my thoughts and for opening the door and letting the beautiful sea breeze enter my life.

Until next time,

xx Lotty