Sweet and sour

I guess this is a sweet and sour blog, a number 19 on the Lotty menu served with a side order of 'how the hell did I get through that week.'
Yes tough mum stuff again, I don't want to depress you all and make you drown in your wine or your coco pops depending on what time you're reading this so I'll emit some nasty details. However as always, I write this blog selfishly for me and not you so bare with me please, this is my release; rather like having a good windy bottom after eating baked beans.

Both mum and dad over the past two months were drifting apart, my dad full of anger and frustration over him having a knackered heart and mum being terminally ill. Mum became withdrawn, depressed and anxious about going out; strange seeing the two strongest people in your life dwindle before your very eyes. Strange doesn't cover it, it's heart breaking, heart breaking doesn't cover it either really, at it's worst it's like being knifed in the heart when your fully conscious with your eyes as wide open as a deer in head lights, living the nightmare every breathing minute of the day.
I could see it getting worse, feel the tension between them I could almost eat the smell of anger and sadness when I walked into their house.I didn't know what to do and I hid away a bit, in the comfort of my own home because if I didn't look into my mums or dads eyes then I wouldn't be reminded of the utter feeling of helplessness that consumed my body.

I got stronger, with some help; the good news came that the cancer wasn't any bigger and the chemo was stopping the fucker growing like a triffid, so mum decided a chemo holiday was in order. Now it's not your average Saga holiday or week in Blackpool, a summer to plan, to do stuff, to live and not be tied to hospital appointments the way Robin sticks to Batman like shit on a stick. All Rosie for a while but mum and dad emotionally deteriorated dramatically; so I cracked on getting them some help; got them both counselling, some happy pills, regular trips to the hospice for mum and tried to keep them busy. To date I think its working, they seem a lil happier, no not a little today they were themselves, just more tired looking.

Mums pain got worse this week and other symptoms ( I will emit) have now started; a sign it could be spreading, a sign maybe she really needs to get off the coach from the chemo holiday and get back to hotel NHS. Shes on constant morphine now and its keeping the pain at bay.
I spent the afternoon with them today, just me, mum and dad. It was just like when I was 15 and my brothers had left home; mum was ironing, dad was pottering around in the garden and we just talked about nothing about everything. It was just normal, and in between mum casually saying she thinks the cancer might be in her lungs, we made plans, special plans; a weekend away just me and her, party planning for my daughters adoption party next week. We laughed, we giggled, she took the piss out of me for being forgetful, I made her carry a load of heavy stuff to the garage and said oh maybe I shouldn't have done that you have got cancer haven't you; we both laughed.

Cancers not about death, it's more about life that you will ever know; yes it will take her and my dads knackered old heart might take him one day but something takes us all. Yes cancer can change you, can make you weaker but really it just remoulds a person, a little like kids playing with play doh only not as many bright colours.
Every week is so different, sometimes it's clouded with horrible heart wrenching thoughts that make me want to be physically sick in the middle of the night but other times, hopefully most of the time it's just about living. About doing the weekly shop, seeing my kids being spoilt with their grannie and grandad, watching mum doing the ironing, popping around with cake I've made and the luxury times when we both go away. It's day by day and week by week, it's all it can be and it's all it should be. I didn't know my love for my mother and father could get any bigger but I stood there today and I felt it all around me, in every pore and vein in my body. It was sweet, as sweet candy floss made from pure honey, all fluffy and pink and warm like the best cuddle you ever ever had.

Thanks for reading, go tell someone you love em please.

Xxxxx

Happiness and hurt in 140 characters

I don't know why I first joined twitter, I think I blame Steven Fry. I did the same as everyone else, got an orgasm when a celebrity talked to me, left for a while and came back. Early last year it changed my life, in a dramatic fashion and through a lot of heartache it made me a better stronger person and made my life more liveable as a result.
From then on in twitter became something different for me, I never went looking for friends or someone to talk too, just to be nosy really. Like peeping at the neighbours wearing a Harry Potter invisibility coat whilst sporting my ugliest knickers. It just happened I've met some beautiful people and have made some beautiful friends, for life I am truly blessed.
That said it has it's dramas, it's not perfect, nothing is. I've been trolled and not in a Billy goats gruff sense, Ive had my crushes and Christ if Tom Hardy doesn't stop DMing me I'm going to report the bastard.

Today was a bad day on twitter and I needed to write this blog, not to go into specifics but because this morning when I was very upset over something I realised it's power and it's shocked me; I knew it was powerful but I didn't know it actually gave electric shocks. A few words on a screen, making me cry on the flip side, scrolling down my timeline something making me smile. Two such extreme emotions. Happiness and hurt in 140 characters.

I used to fight liking twitter so much, I used to think I was waisting my evening; I stopped and I missed it, I wasn't happy, a close friend pointed out to me is we should only do things that made us happy. That's when I allowed myself to embrace twitter in a full force Lotty hug. I love it, I'm not ashamed to love it. If it's not impacting on my real life then as far as I'm concerned, jobs a good en, Bobs your Uncle and Fanny's your great Aunt that always buys you shitty socks.

Twitter for me now, as many of you know is an outlet, a place to spill my emotions about my mums cancer and not make anyone worry about me in my real life. As some of you know it's a thought bank for me deposit my valueless earnings of my mind; anything from who invented pencils to oh I fancy writing on my arm,I really think that shit! I'd happily tweet away to myself to be honest it's just therapeutic way getting thoughts and emotions out there. I realised today maybe I'm too open, it makes me vulnerable but I also realised it's just me and if there one thing I learnt from a very young age is just be me, always and it's done me well so far, if not left me a little bruised like an over ripe peach.

So I guess I've rambled enough, about nothing as usual. Once again I nearly deleted my account this morning, I actually hovered over the button but then I remembered you lot make me smile everyday, one way or another and I just wanted to say thank you for making me laugh and cry but mainly your kindness, it overwhelms me at times, I don't know what brought us all together but I'm happy we all got to know each other in this loony land that is twitter.

Now piss off I need to change my avi, I haven't in ten minutes.

Thanks for reading

xxxxx

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.

Chocolate Cake

My eyes would close but my brain wouldn't stop working so I wrote this and just put it on Google+

Now I remember why I couldn't sleep;



Today I made a chocolate cake......I don't really like chocolate cake. I had an urge, a necessity, it was an unexplainable motherly nesting instinct I thought to myself as my toddler clattered about with the cake tins.

Why am I wanting to nest? I breathed out some air and thought irony; hello. There's an un-grown baby inside me right now that's not meant to be there. I have my precious adopted babies ringing in my ears everyday. I didn't know my body made babies. I only knew when the pain came and I saw it on the scanning screen in the hospital while I laid there alone pretending to be a grown up and all I really wanted was my mum.

Natures weird isn't it, I don't miss this baby or kidney shaped thing I saw on the screen but I know it's there and every little pain and tired feeling I get will keep reminding me until it's gone.

Until then I'll keep making the cakes I don't eat.




For you, the little thing inside me. Whatever you could have been, it wasn't right you grew; but I love you a bit anyway. xxx

Bad Boy

It's eight sleeps since my baby girl came to live under our roof, since I woke in the middle of the night imagining I could here her cries. After the third night she didn't cry, I'm blessed; blessed doesn't cover it really, if the pope were to touch me and say Lotty I'll give you three wishes (because that what he does doesn't he?) I'd say it's ok thanks I think I'm sorted.
Well maybe one; make it so my mum doesn't have terminal cancer please (and monster munch are good for you) But thats not an option is it, the bad boy is here to stay and as I learnt a while ago it not about the cancer it's about the life. It sounds such a cliche when your not going through it but the it's a life plan when you are, believe me. It's not about doing all the things you always wanted too, it's about enjoying the simple things, the things that cost nothing, the children's smiles, the hugs, laughing at the inappropriate farts in public, the moment you hug the person you love in a millisecond and you feel instant comfort while you can still hold them in your arms because whenever it is you know they will be gone forever. It sounds so fucking dramatic doesn't it, but my mum held me tonight before I came home, it was a real mum hug, a hug that said it ok, it's really ok Charlotte, when we know it isn't, but you really really believe it for that one moment and it's perfect.

I sat on the floor in a hospice today, holding my mum and dads hand while they both cried their hearts out and shared there deepest fears while a nurse sat next to my dad because he was so angry, so scared he couldn't help or make it better. Many many people go through this sadly, but until you see it first hand you can't explain it. To be honest I still cant, I always thought my mum was my strength but I now realise she gave me the strength to be who I am. A priceless gift, no need for a receipt, the nurse turned to my parents and said your daughter is amazing, she's got the strength, attitude and love to get you through this, there is a lot of love in this room. I looked to the window and wondered who she was speaking of, it can't be me. I feel as scared as a girl on her first day, at school with itchy new knickers. Somehow I find this power in me, stronger than the powers of grey skull to make me grip my parents hands and tell them, I am here and we will get through this and whatever you feel is normal, its a process, a journey and I'm here all the way.




I just re read my blurb, I sound like a misery, I'm not, If you met me in the street you'd think she's a happy soul. Yes, I'm stressed, I'm tired, I've got health problems of my own but I'm not unhappy, I'm sad, sad to my core sometimes, rarely, but as my wonderful mum says worse things happen to other people. I'm blessed, I have wonderful precious people around me in RL and on twitter; Lotty is a lucky lady indeed, that sounds perverse almost but I am. I'm been very very low these past few days because I have felt physically weak, but I can feel the strength coming back slowly like an outsider in the grand national.

Tomorrow is another day, just a normal weekend, I'm off to work, you'll all be getting up with the kids, be hungover, wishing for sunshine or doing a 'big shop.' All the ordinary wonderful things that's make life extraordinary. Whatever it is, however mundane ...do it with a smile please, it's lottys orders and if you don't? Well, you know what will happen, I will invite you all to dinner and let you experience my cooking first hand, then you'll be sorry!

Thanks for reading kids. You know I love you, but just that little bit more now xxxxxx

What A Difference A Day Makes

Well, today was the day that was, it was like winning the lottery without even buying a ticket ....we met our daughter. I have to say it again, our daughter, my daughter, I have a daughter. Please slap me, is this real? No go on pinch me, get the haddock and chuck it around me chops because Im beaming like an idiot, even now!

I've always wanted a daughter from being a little girl and now I'm lucky enough to have a daughter AND a son. Fuck me I'm welling up now. When I was I'm my 20s I was diagnosed with PCOS, my world fell apart, I grieved for what I thought was my god given right to have babies and looked forward to having a donkey sanctuary and a sleeping with a zillion cats. Look at me now, who'd have thought it Charlotte the northern arty bird, two kids, hubby a dog and a cat. Jesus it's bloody text book, well not quite I've never been normal, never intend to be. Adopting our children has been a long bumpy road, I have the bruises to prove it and everyone is worth it's painful scar.

We pulled up outside the foster caters house today and a little girl in a pink spotty dress greeted us with a smile, a beaming smile, one that will break hearts one day and a lil glint of mischief in her eye; without doubt I thought, that's my baby girl.
After a short while, she was running up to me, cuddling and kissing me, my heart beamed like the first sunshine of spring and I knew I was perfectly matched like a Laura Ashley window display. All my dreams were now complete and we are a four, I never thought I'd marry, let alone have children. I have and never have had any expectations of my life; that sounds sad doesn't it, it's really not, I always been easily pleased, if I was happy and had people around me who loved me who I could love and care for then I am a happy bunny. I feel like all the wonderful things that have happened to me in my life have been by default and today was the biggest shocker of all because blow me down with a hamsters sneeze I met my mini me.

I'm living proof dreams do come true and even when you think something will never ever happen, you turn a corner and everything looks familiar and you feel strangely at home in a new environment. I left the foster carers today with a beaming smile, I still have it, in light of my terrible year that has passed with my mum being terminally ill and in light of the darkness there is yet to come; my little forever night light of love is in the form of my baby girl.

I'm blessed not only to have children but for my secret dreams to come true, it doesn't matter what they are, have a dream because you might just wake up and realise it come true and your heart will feel like it's going to pop out your chest like in the alien film but without the goo, like mine does right now. Just a little tip though if you do feel like this, please make sure your not having a coronary as I can't be held responsible for any unfortunate incidents of dreaming by proxy.

Few do, but some of you know what a journey this has been, the highs and lows have been more stressful than anything I've ever known but we did it we're here. Over the next six days we see her every day, learn her routine, she comes to our house, she meets my son, we take her out, try not to drop her and remember to feed her and change her nappy. On day 7, golden day 7 it's placement day. She comes home, comes home to stay, I start to go loopy through sleep deprivation, my son gets furiously jealous, we live off ready meals, I fight with my husband over stupid things because of extreme tiredness, I forget to wash my face, barely remember my name and am only capable of holding a conversation with anyone under 5 years old. It sounds bloody brilliant doesn't it...bring it on life, I'm ready for ya and I will soak up every moment in my skin and soul and remember you forever.

Here's to my wee baby and the memories I can share with the people I love that will last a lifetime that I couldn't have dreamed of in my wildest dreams.

Thanks for reading kids xxxxx

Thank you

I'm still trying to suss out after all this time what the allure of twitter is, it's like the freshly made chocolate cake you just gotta dib your finger in, the hanging icicle that you just got to snap or for someone like me (with the mental age of a 4 year old) the puddle you just have to jump in.

I guess it's that time of year when everyone and myself included starts to think back on the year that has nearly ended. To be honest it's been the shittiest year of my life ever, period. My marriage was the the toughest ever, adoption social workers have played with my emotions like a alsatian chewing a bone. My father had a heart attack in front of me, my mums got terminal cancer and I've closed my business I spent 12 years building and 6 years training for.
Fucking hell, it's hardly the bloody Waltons is it? Truth is yes, its been a shitty year but we're all still standing so it's the fucking best yet. I don't care about my work, I care about people and I'd happily care for all of them forever if meant they stayed around for longer. Things in other areas are better and the most beautiful thing happened to me this year is that the man from Delmonte said yes Lotty you can have your baby girl and the adoption stork brings her in January. How cool is that, I still can't bloody believe it, I get to have a BABY GIRL, that, like wears pink and everything!!! That I can only dream I have the closeness like I have with my mother now. Shit a fucking breeze block! Miracles do bloody happen and they happen to me, who'd have thought it, little northern Lotty plodding along......BOOM ere you go love have a dream come true, apparently I'm allowed! I think that's what's called a result.

So where does twitter fit it? Well many ways and in many forms actually but the biggest is I've shared it all with you along the way, I've said this in blogs before; people use twitter for many different reasons, I use it to vent, to get stupid thoughts freed from my mind and to spit the gristle out when life being a bastard (it's been a bloody life saver this year) Hands up! I'm a pure 100% selfish twitter user, don't give a shit what people think, its the only area of my life its all about the lotty and I still bloody forget that people read my ramblings, as you all are now...you bloody idiots. A thing happened though I started giving a shit about you beautiful people and I bloody love that. I've been lucky enough to meet some of you folk this year and I happily call you real 3D friends now and you've even seen my limp, third nipple and squint and you still love me, fancy that.

I'm still a selfish twitter user and will happily continue to do be so, but some of you I genuinely want to speak too everyday. Your wonderings into my real life have been like finding a chocolate bar you forgot you had, a happy perk if you will.
I'm blessed to have met you and to have shared some very special and quite frankly 'thank god I'm wearing my Tena lady moments.' I've sometimes been sat in front of the screen with tears of laughter streaming....I love that, I am truly blessed. So thank you you beautiful people, for everything you have been, everything you are and everything you will be, your as freaky as fuck and at nutty as a snickers but I love you in all your wondrous ways twitter folk, here's to 2012 and this time next year when we're all still standing again, but just that little bit taller and wiser eh.

Love you guys and gals, you know who you are because I'm never afraid to say it. I'm like that in life with all my friends and family, if you love someone tell em because everyone wants to know they are loved and cared about. I guess that's the nail on the head, twitter you are now part of my real life and I embrace you like a bacon buttie when I'm hungover. Thank you for being there and making in a 140c my shitty year just that little bit bearable.

Mwah xxxxxx

By the way, I don't wear Tena lady so piss off!!!

Strength

It's nearly here, all the scans, all the hospitals over the past four months and it's looming forever closer. Tomorrow we go for a 'chemo talk' chemotherapy starts on Tuesday. My mum will go from being a strong woman to a weaker version of her once self but I know her strength will shine through as bright as the fireworks over the Thames on new years eve.
I'm a mini carbon copy of my mum, she's amazeballs, I knew that before all this shit but now I see it even more so everyday. We have the same attitude to life, the same silly ways, we both look at each other after a hottie walks past us, we always enjoy every special moment and usually the simplest things in life give us the most joy. We have the same eyes, the same obsession with handbags and the same silly giggle, we both put everyone else before us and it's only when our bodies give up we take a moment to ourselves.
What's scary is I have to be strong for both of them, since my dad had his heart attack 5 weeks ago, he's aged considerably. I've given up my business's to care for them both; no hesitation I'd do it forever if it means they live longer and see their grandchildren in their school plays and growing out of there shoes as quick as the hulk does.
So where is this strength? Its in there some where, sometimes I can feel it as strong as my sons hug first thing in the morning, sometimes it hides away like a lion at the back of the wardrobe to Narnia. I will find it day by day but I will also allow myself to be weak because I am human after all.

I know where the strength will come from it will come from her, just as she taught me not to pick my nose in public and to make sure my skirt isn't tucked in my knickers when I come out the loo, she taught me how to be strong, how to enjoy every precious moment you can while you can. I will get to live after this, she won't, she will live on in all of us; we all live on in our children and I am so so proud to be like her.
So however weak she will be I will be her strength, her light when it dark her smile when she is crying because I'm her and I learn't from the best. I'm the luckiest girl in the fucking world, bring it on you bad boy cancer, we've a few more memories and smiles to enjoy before you take her from us.

xxxxx

While I'm here, I just want to say a huge thank you to all my wonderful friends on twitter that are helping me though this shitty journey. I'm generally ok most of the time and twitter is my escape when all around me is crumbling. Your kind words, sillies and laughter help me through every single day. I know most people don't get twitter but those of us that do and are lucky enough to find true life long friends through it, know that the faith and the power of human kindness can be restored through a simple 140 characters. Thank you you beautiful people, you know who you are but a special thank you to puss flaps, you are my rock ;) xxx

Holding Hands

I love the cinema, actually I love going to the cinema on my own; some peoples idea of sticking a pin in your arm in the dark, but it's pure indulgence for me. I was a lucky girl tonight, tonight I went with my dear mum....if you read my blog you will know she has a nasty terminal thing growing in her begging with C. Yes that dirty bad boy, you wouldn't know looking at her she looks stunning,beaming almost, although Im just starting to notice the tiredness in her eyes; tiredness only a daughter would see.

We had a beautiful, poignant moment that upon describing sounds so dreadfully sad but on reflection was a moment I will hold in my heart for the rest of my life, rather like when I hold a bar of chocolate so tight in my hand if someone mentions the word share.
The scene, a mother a daughter sat together, mother dying of cancer, she was offered a job away but the daughter didn't want to go because her mum, the one and only mum we get was dying, she told her to go, live her life and she told her she was proud......me and mum were sat holding hands anyway..in-between shoving minstrels in our gob quicker than a whippet chasing a rabbit on speed. This moment in the film came, silence, no munching, we held hands, stoked fingers, squeezed each others hands tight, never moved, never looked at each other, tears streaming, the words saying what we were both feeling...then the mum in the film said "I'm not planning on dying yet." We both smiled, squeezed hands tighter and wiped the snot discreetly from our noses.

Sounds so sad doesn't it, it wasn't it was beautiful, truly beautiful, magical almost, made me realise what I already knew...this woman is my being, she has taught me so much; how to handle life, how to be strong, how to be a mother myself, how to not give a fuck what people think of you or what you look like, sing to a good song even if it's in a quite cinema (yeah we did that too) but most importantly how to love. How bloody lucky am I!

Go see the film 'The Help,' go on your own or take someone you love, breath it in like a good Vicks vapour rub, come out smiling then go dance in the street like no one is looking....you only live once right.

Thanks for reading lovelies xxx

My Heart

It's 3am, the day after the news my mums got in-operable liver cancer. I guess this is called reasonable insomnia, that's ok then; I officially have permission not to sleep and be as grumpy tomorrow as the hulks seamstress.

Half an hour ago I thought my heart was going to break, but my husband held me, and I cried real earthy tears of sadness from deep inside my heart and let them dry on my pillow while he rocked me like a baby. I felt great after, nowt like a good cry as my grandad always said, you'll pee less love.

Millions of people go through this, I'm/we are not special and I know that! I really do but as everything in life when it's happening to you and people you would die for are facing a short future of pain it grips your soul as tight as your child's hand holds yours on the first day of school.
I'm blessed, we all are, but I'm blessed in a way that my parents, particularly my mother taught me from an early age to live everyday life as if it could all end tomorrow, how fucking cool is that!
It's weird since the news yesterday you think about what you want to do with the person you have limited time, I can think of a few, not many because thankfully I've already done so many of them-that's like winning the lottery in my book.
One of my biggest sadnesses is that my mum won't spend a great deal of time with my baby girl, hopefully some, please fucking god some. I need there skin to touch, there souls to link, there smiles to share and there eyes to lock and I want my mum to push my baby on the swings. They will, I will make it happen as fast as I can!

The other sadness is the pain and weakness she is about to face, she's as tough as jockeys arse my mum and my inner strength has always come from her, I learnt from the best. We will fight the physical pain together and will look after her if it means I age 20 years in the next god knows how many months, I don't care. I can always Sellotape my wrinkles back because I'll be living and breathing and moaning about the price of fuel, she will be in the sky with my other beloved lost ones.

There's no happy to ending to terminal cancer, but the happiness comes from the life that you have already lived. I sat yesterday with my mum and dad, looking at the beautiful view from there house, all drinking whisky, all crying and my mum said she's had the most wonderful life, held my hand, held my dads, looked into his eyes and said that's because I've shared it with you and our beautiful children and grand children.
Heartbreaking, but probably one of the most beautiful things I have ever ever heard in all my life.....see life fucking rocks doesn't it. I'm not going to say all the cliches, but please do one thing when you've read this; go hug someone you love and cherish that moment. However long or short you get to hold them, kiss them, breathe them, feel them and love them because that memory will last a lifetime; however long or short that will be.

Thanks for reading kids, do get a tissue you look like shit xxxxxxx

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