Wiggly Fingers

It's been a week of Red, White, Blue, Piss, shit, hospitals, felt pens on sofas, confusion, excellent dancing in the garden at 1am and many a tear shed. I'm not even going to try and make sense of it all, it was one of those weeks that just was; you know the kind, the ones your just glad are over and can't wait to get cracking on a new one. I guess that's the optimist in me, I'm not a dweller but I can see a procrastinator emerging in me as I get older. Procrastination and optimism; sounds like the perfect Lotty cocktail to me, I'll have a double please.

So I've no idea what this blog is about, it's early again, I can hear the clock ticking like nails down a black board, everyone in the house is sleeping, twitter is asleep, I'm guessing therefore the whole world is really, I'm sure that's not paranoia.
It's been a funny old week, I remember as a child waking up early on Saturday mornings and being filled with excitement of not having to go to school and awaiting Going Live coming on. As a 35 year old woman, I now enjoy the peace and quiet, tip toe around like I'm walking on egg shells made of glass so as not to wake the beasts that are my kids and start wondering when Saturday kitchen comes on so I can drool, over the food, not James Martin, alright well maybe a bit, ok a lot. Actually sod the food I'll just eat my cheerios and mark James's hair and clothes...shut up lotty.

I realised this week something I already knew, there's a Lottyism if ever I heard one! I have an affliction a terrible affliction for being honest, for me being me and for speaking from my mind and my heart always I'm not one of those people that say 'I'm just being honest' and then goes onto making a bitching comment, I'm talking about talking from my heart, my emotions ooze out of me, every minute of every day and it leaves me open like a flapping book in the wind, open to the elements and tea stains.
I'm like it in real life but as you know on twitter too, if I'm happy, sad, upset everyone around me knows it. Funny thing is though if I'm sad I go quiet, I never let that show until the almighty force that is twitter came along. That's the place I allow myself to be sad, if I do I almost don't want anyone to respond to it because I feel bad for being a miserable cow but the kindness of twitter is as precious to me as an eye lash I have to make a wish from. Hence my thinking around twitter (are you making notes this is gripping stuff.) Still after all this time I forget, or fool myself that people read what I'm writing and I just write it for me. I love that, pure indulgence it's something I'm not used too. Its like getting up and thinking just about yourself and doing what ever YOU want. It's seems like a long long time ago since I did that, actually it is, that's the deal with being a parent isn't it. You get very small moments of just being you but Christ they're as precious as sunshine in December and you appreciate them all the more. It's made slightly more restricted as I'm a carer too, a job I got by recommendation from life for being a daughter; I've not seen the job description yet or my aims and objectives so I just turn up for work and see what it throws at me. I've tried to book annual leave but the calendar is full, however I'm nothing but a trier so every now and again I take a moment to look out the window or cruise the Internet to find some train tickets or a holiday cottage I could escape too for a few days. I'm Lotty and I'm a tough old stickler of a bird so I'll book my annual leave, even if its a day. I'm rambling now which is a sure sign my brain has woken up and I'm aware of what I'm writing, which is never how my blogs work. I feel something, I let me fingers wiggle on the iPad and it flows like a cream being poured over strawberries at Wimbledon.

So I'll hold the calories on the cream for now and save them for wine tonight or maybe I'll wait and see what James temps me with this morning, either a nice piece of salmon or a rather nice checked shirt. Is it me or is a man in a checked or stripy shirt just made ultra sexy. Hold on, I'm doing it again, fucking James Martin; bring back Phillip and Sarah, times were much simpler then but not as fruitful that's for sure. I wouldn't change a thing.


Thanks for reading my wiggly fingers people of twitter, your a select bunch of people who are the only ones that are party to my wiggly fingers, well you and finger mouse but let's go there eh.

Xxxxxx

Dog Shit and Dandelions

I can't sleep, it's 1.15am and I found myself writing this. My mind is awash and on ultra spin with a million things; my work, mum dying, the kids, this weekend and my life generally. My husband is lying next to me snoring his head off, I want to poke him in the ribs and say excuse me, do you realise exactly how lucky you are to be able to just fall asleep like that when your head hits the pillow. I'd actually kill someone for that, preferably Noel Edmonds if I could choose.

A good friend asked how I was earlier, I said I was ok and I was doing one day at a time and yes he was right this is all good. To be honest its all I can do, I was never one for planning anyway, never one for huge ambitions I just wanted to be happy and for those around me that I love to be the same.
I like to take each day as it comes but when your unsure what each one will bring, all you want is the normality of being able to plan something more than a week ahead. I think it's called living the grass is greener way, it's a bit bollox actually and rather new for Lotty, anyway I bet the grass is covered in dog shit and dandelions anyway.

So what's keeping me awake? Unknown work resolutions mainly (but they will eventually get sorted I know) but also this weekend. Its a biggie, I'm excited as a child but I'm also drenched in uncertainty of how I will feel and how emotionally stable I will be from Friday to Monday.
Me, my husband and the kids are taking my mum, dad and grandmother away to the beach for the weekend. What the fucks up with Lotty I hear you cry, has she finally lost the plot so much even google earth says no results found.
Well there's a reason, there always is with me, it's not just any old place or any old weekend away; for the past roughly 12 years my parents have taken there parents to this small seaside treasure, I went there as a child and so did my parents. I always tagged along when mum and dad took nana and grandad and I've gone from being a graduate, young free and single, to it being the holiday my husband to be, drove 3hrs to tell me he loved me for the first time. To a place we went too after grandad had died and we all cried buckets and spades and then ate prawns and giggled about the good times. It's also a place where I held my first child's hand and walked on the beach just as I did when my feet were as small as his and looked into my parents eyes and saw pure love, deep love and happiness just as there parents did with them, breathing the same sea breeze and wiggling the same sand between their toes.

They weren't going to go this year, my Nan's in a wheelchair and mum and dad can't watch Jeremy Kyle without needing a rest. However, not letting a little thing like that stop me, I offered for us to take them. Sounds stupid to say I'm a bit scared but I am , scared of lots of things but ultimately knowing this will probably be that last time we all go there together; thats scary even writing it so I can't imagine how I'm going to feel when I'm there.
I know one thing, more certain than the fact I'll be knackered tomorrow and probably send my boy to school in my pants; I know it will be the best holiday yet. Both my children will be there for the first time, we will all go on the beach, someone will need a wee when they're aren't any loos. My mum and dad will row, the kids will get tired and grumpy, my nana will fart in public, I will shout at my husband for being a prick about parking, we will all eat fish and chips and then moan about how full we are. I will go for an early morning walk on the beach and paddle in the icy water and probably get a cold. I'll play cards with nana, she will forget the game half way through, mum will sit on the sofa reading magazines and watching tv while we're all cabined up at night and Dad will sit crunching sweets annoying the feck out of us all. Do you know what? Sounds fucking brilliant to me, I just hope I have the emotional strength to get through it and grab those moments, take my mums hand while she smiles at my children paddling in the sea and remember it all forever.

I'll be ok I'm tougher than a mule wearing a donkey jacket, I'll lap it up, I might cry when I'm on my own but the happy times and memories will dry out any tears and last forever in the sea breeze.

I must go and try and get a little sleep because if I send my son to school in my thong tomorrow social services will be banging on my door quicker than you can say deck chair.

Night night, thanks for reading kids.

XXXXXX

Ketchup and Lollies

It's about 5am, I've been awake since three as my knackered old neck and back decided to wake me along with my busy mind, tapping at my brain like a dripping tap with an incontinence problem.I love this time of day, the early morning sounds the silence, the birds singing and daylight playing peepo with the clouds.

Yesterday was special, very special it was my only sons 5th birthday and for those of you that have been living on button moon since Lotty joined Twitter my children are adopted. I forget they are adopted, they feel like mine, they are mine but it's strange although it's something I will never experience I feel like I gave birth to them. What's also slightly odd is it's only at special times I remember they are adopted because I always think about the birth parents and what could have been if he didn't end up with us. Without boring you with nicotine and caffeine induced early morning ramblings, my son was born a drug addict, his birth mother was an addict. Its strange people reactions are always of disgust when they hear that, not mine just empathy and despite my son having a visual impairment because of it I still think about her on days like yesterday because I know she would have been thinking about him.

Days like yesterday are more poignant because of my mums terminal cancer, it could have been the last time she shares a birthday with my son so it was extra special for many reasons, although strangely it was a cancer free day yesterday; a precious rarity like a Mary Poppins bag. None of us thought about it, we all just soaked up every giggle, every bounce on the castle, every pass in pass the parcel and every smile that beamed from my sons lips and let that beautiful priceless feeling soak into us forever.
I text my mum yesterday asking her to bring emergency lollies and ketchup, like you do, she text back saying got both (because grannies always have lollies and ketchup) she said your doing a great job, I replied that I'd learnt from the best and It's true, my parents were born to be parents. Some people just are aren't they, I had an amazing childhood and I really believe that it's every child's god given right too.

Despite being up at stupid o'clock I'm still glowing inside from yesterday, a precious birthday thats now gone. I know my son will remember when he's older and I know I will look at the pictures when I'm grey and prune like and remember it fondly and smile like it was actually yesterday. Sometimes life gives you shit doesn't it and to be honest I've had rather a lot of it of late but then life gives you something precious that you can't buy or bottle or even get on eBay and you smile, a real earthy smile and you remember how amazing life can actually be and those moments help carry you for the next load of hurdles. It's amazing what some jelly and ice cream and a monster truck can do eh.

Here's to many more bounces on the castle, more smiles in people eyes of those I love and lifetime of precious memories that will outlive us all.

Thanks for reading kids.

xxx

Painted Words 1

Something you should know about me as an artist which none of you will and which is the most precious personal thing I own, is when I do get the chance to draw or paint my mind goes onto the paper. I hide me in there, hidden amongst the layers, my thoughts and feelings so people can peek at them, make there conclusions but only I really know what it means; to them it's just a picture that doesn't look like a face or a vase but for Lotty it's a part of me. I just wrote this, I've never done anything like it before with words, only a pencil or a brush.


These are my painted words;



It's only when it's gone you realise what you missed.

A forever chilling breath that surrounds you like the sky around a cloud.

When you held it for a precious moment, you were yourself as you were meant to be all along.

The shapes changed and they merged like the silky sharp damp reflection of sunrise on water.

The picture became clearer as eye lashes parted and the day bleached upon skin.

Then serenity formed with the beauty of a new born and fresh beginnings arose like never before, like everything was meant to be as it is.

A path taken with eyes closed as tight as locked door, a perfect path that lead to a beautiful bright beginning of a journey with no words.

A perfect bumpy road trip with laughter lines and bruises to share.

A truly precious life to lead and lead it well I will do.



xxx

I'll pick it up at the post office

This morning I thought my heart was actually going to break, it's been shattered a couple of times in the past by some rather first class knob blokes when I was a single gal but this was different. I could feeI it aching, a different kind of ache completely out of the blue. I was in the kitchen being a mummy, iPod was on shuffle and a song came on about someone that had died. It got me hook, line and sinker, no warning; tears streamed from my eyes like a toddler peeing all over the carpet when your trying to potty train.
I stood looking out the window and thought how can I possibly be grieving for mum she's still here, I guess it a process and I've never been through anything like this before. I know thousands sadly do but Lotty hasn't, I always come back to the fact that it's not actually me going through it its mum; so buck Lotty and get on with it.

For those of you that don't know, my mum was diagnosed with in-operable terminal cancer last year and I'm her and my dads full time carer. I was thinking today since all this started about last October I've been pretty strong. She's been really rough recently, rougher than I've let on to be honest; the worst yet and it's given me a taster of vile things to come. The point is I've been strong for others, I'm still doing that and I'll still slap on a smile when I walk out the front door or pick up the phone to speak mum but as a some of you know I lost some of my strength recently....I think it got chucked out by mistake and went to the same place all the odd socks go. I know it will come back I'm just waiting for the postman to put a red card through the door and I'll collect it at the weekend.

I'm surprised I'm not coping as well as I was, it sounds silly doesn't it, yes I'm allowed not to cope it's a fucking living nightmare stuff this and it's been a rough few months for me with my miscarriage and all. But I'm just not used to feeling so mentally weak, I'm not used to involuntarily bursting into tears like the brat in the sweet shop being told no. So it seems I am human after all folks, this fucking wonder woman outfit needs to go to the cleaners and have a good airing to get some powers back. I know I'll find it again we always do don't we, I'll be brave and get some help, I've never been afraid to ask for help I still ask old grannies to help me across busy roads so it's no different is it.

I hate to moan, I'm not a moaner and sorry if these words all jumbled resemble it, as you know I'm an optimist I can see a positive in sinking ship me. I'm not beat yet, I know there's worst to come but I know I'm strong and writing my blog, tweeting and the beautiful people around me help me every day.
Apologies for the erratic and sometimes sad timeline but as all my tweets, I just write what pops into my head and my heart it's a Lotty force even the power of grey skull would struggle to contend with.

Thanks for reading this waffle, I'll look forward to receiving my sympathy donkey in the post, I bet I'll be out; I'll pick it up at the post office when I get my strength back.

xxxxxxxx

A closed department store

Well poke me sideways with a whittle stick, I just had a flick through some of my blogs - geesh if I ain't banging on about cancer, I'm droning on about adoption or being ill! Why you lot read this is beyond me, the only thing I can think is that you're all sun readers or think Jeremy Kyle should host question time and Jeremy Clarkson is sexy.

Anyways what's this one about? I'm not sure yet, some blogs write themselves, Im doing this one. I want to talk about twitter again; as most of us do I have a love hate relationship with it,I nearly deleted my account the other week, I lost my twitter mojo. I found it again with a ten pence piece, a wire from my bra and a piece of lego in the bottom of the washing machine, I don't know who left it there but it got boiled on a 60 and it survived and came out a bit brighter and shinier I think.

Twitter simply allows me to say and express things I was only ever allowed to think in my own head before. As it does for everyone one, it's a daily outlet of emotions and thoughts that give an impression to people what kind of person we are.
I'm basically your average frog hating, piss head who kitchen dances a lot and moans way too much about shit; all normal, move along please nothing to see here.

What I find the most intriguing about twitter is it's allure and its power, I'm not talking about twitter crushes, geesh we all have them (I'm still saving my twitter cherry for that @Twitflups by the way) I mean the power it has over our minds....because that's what twitter is about isn't it, people minds...how they work. How much they give away or how much they choose to hold back. A little like a woman that wears the top that doesn't show any puppies but just gives ya lil hint to let you know they're there.
I love it, I love the different people and the different styles they tweet in, so reflective of meeting different people in life. You can dip in and out, be fucked off, be happy and not give a shit; a place to do what you like. I feel a bit like I'm in a department store sometimes and I'm only one there and I can be as silly as I want, try all the make up or just snooze on the beds.
Thats it for me and for everyone I know, our tweets reflect our mood; I have a zillion moods a day because of everything that's happening in my life at the moment; but even when I want to be quiet and curl up on the that extra springy bed alone I still sit on twitter. I care so much about a lot of people on there and if I haven't heard from them in a day or two I'm texting them. This is a happy by product of my stumblings on twitter, friends that have crossed the line from the closed to the open department store and I will always be truly blessed for those people in my life so thank you.

In real life you can meet people and we all have, that have an effect on you for a life time, a teacher,a friend or a colleague etc. For me twitter is no different, however much I love to hate it, it's made my eyes open and my heart cry and smile all at the same time, I'm blown away daily by peoples kindness so thank you beautiful people. Here's to more donkey loving tweets, kitchen dancing a go go, drunken waffle and friendships.

Now piss off, I need to trawl through a load of shit in my TL, geesh you lot talk crap.

Xxxxxx



For Lilly - A blessing in my life, thank you. Just keep being you. xxxx

Lucky hedgehog Lotty

My mum has always said life's like a road trip and when the big things happen it's a cross roads to choose which route to take. She always was wise old mare, bloody annoying when your 15, life changing when your grown up. Funny being grown up isn't it, I don't believe any of us are really, we just play at this grown up malarkey and some of us hide it more than others. Being a child is endearing, beautifully naive and simplistic if only we knew how fab it it's at the time eh.
My nana always said "if I knew then what I know now" I remember hearing this as a little girl and thinking....go on then nan finish the sentence. Growing older I understood exactly what she was saying and there isn't an ending, the sentence says it all.

I'm rambling about this because my mum and my nana are two very strong women that's have made a huge impact on me, maybe more than I realise in two very different ways; also its mothers day...geesh Lotty a topical blog? Whatever next cleans pants on a Monday? Nah, that'll never happen, I'll never be that grown up!

Most of you know (and if you don't you must have been living in fragil rock for the past few weeks as I've blurted enough about it enough on twitter, sorry about that) that I recently had a complicated miscarriage (not thats theres a simple version) and I also didn't know I could even have kids so it was a double whammy. Bit of a shocker to say the least, it was easier for me though, I didn't have a room ready or a tummy to rub and enjoy (well yeah alright the tummy was there but you know what I mean) I just had contractions for three weeks. Not the nicest I must say, there's definitely something more to be said for adoption than them bad boys. Yeah today is a bit tough because of that and yes all I can think that's bounding towards the front of my mind like an Andrew puppy is this could be my last with my mum. But as Christmas was, it's not the last it's the best.

I really never thought I would be a mummy and now I have two angels....I still can't believe it, those of you that read my blog in an attempt for a good nights sleep will know I'm honoured to have my adopted children in my life.
I haven't talked about this on twitter because I think I moan too much on there anyway, but our little girl has been struggling to settle with us; it's been incredibly tough I can't tell you. We thought our son would be the one the to react, but no, she was, she's basically been screaming for weeks whenever her brother is around because all she's known is one to one. I don't just mean screaming, I mean shatter glass and deafen small animals screaming. This week though, although tough I broke the screaming cycle, at one point I could actually hear supernanny dialling the job centre so I must be doing something right.

So it's a bit of a mixed bag today, I'm not dwelling on anything, none of it. Yes it will be tough when I go to mums but I'll be strong and I'll see the pleasure my children give to her and the love in her eyes and realise just how blessed I am. I said to a beautiful friend in the week there's always someone worse off than you and it's true it doesn't negate from how sad or crap something is but it's a good way to clear the mist sometimes.

When I found out I was miscarrying I just blurted it out on twitter, I regretted this instantly and thought Christ how awful for you lot to read this, I didn't want to make any of you feel awkward or be reading doom and gloom.No one wakes up in a morning and goes.....oooh yeah let's check that twitter place so I can go and get depressed. But as always twitter you proved me wrong and my initial regret was washed away like pubes down the plug hole.
You showed me love and kindness and you actually helped me through it, I'd never been in hospital as an adult, it's like some weird really bad boarding school dormitory with assisted care and very strong painkillers. You were all there when I needed you the most, late at night when I was scared so thank you, you know who you are.
I don't really believe in fate or Karma and all that bullshit but sometimes when bad things happen and a good thing happens right after; it gives you the strength to get up and face the world, to see the world more clearly in fact. When this happens purely by accident it's even more beautiful, more powerful and more special and my heart warms just thinking about it. Despite all the crap in my life I see I'm a very lucky lady, very lucky indeed probably as lucky as hedgehog that managed to cross the road safely without a lollypop lady.

So thank you again, for reading this drivel and for helping me through life, it's a slippery slimy beggar but it ain't half brilliant. I'm off now to get my flowers and get snotty kisses of my kids. Love being a mum, a gift more precious than kerplunk, well almost ;)

Xxxxxx.