It’s World Poetry Day today, so I hope you don’t mind if I share this poem with you. I began writing it in the last few days of my nan’s life; it’s her funeral today.
My nan was in her nineties, a fiercely proud Italian and about the most headstrong of characters you could ever wish to meet. She loved unconditionally and went down fighting; a real Trojan of a woman.
I don’t know much about poetry and don’t usually write it. The opening lines just appeared in my head on my way to visit her for what I knew would be the final time – she was too ill to soldier on.
Then when I sat down to work on the poem, the words just flowed. Sometimes writing is like that. You don’t know what you want to say until the words emerge on the page. That’s part of the magic.
My nan was a natural-born storyteller and loved to be the centre of things, so I know she’d be thrilled to have her own poem, shared with the world. I can imagine her now, nodding sagely to anyone who’d listen, “my storia, on the compute.” So here it is. Continue reading “World Poetry Day – For You”
I’ve got to say, this toddler tantrum malarkey has pounced on me like a mugger from a bush. I mean, I’d heard all about these terrible twos, but give me a break. My kid’s barely one!
There’s no doubt about it – toddlers are angsty little suckers. It’s like they have all the “why the hell are you getting in my face” rage of a teenager, but with an even worse ability to express themselves. At least teenagers can talk (well, grunt).
It seems like it’s all going on for these toddlers. Teething, the dreaded leaps, having to learn to do ALL OF THE STUFF. No wonder they get ranty.
Now I don’t know much about much, but I’ve been trying out a few tricks in the interests of trying to keep my sanity in the eye of the storm. So I thought I’d share what works for me.
So, wait, what? Brazen Mummy Writes has won an award? Says who?!
Ha ha, I know, I know. Month one – what are the chances. It’s called the Versatile Blogger Award – twit twoo. There’s no actual trophy, but I get to show off my badge. (Although I may have made that myself…)
And, hang on. Brazen Mummy is going to confess seven embarrassing things about herself? Crikey. Fetch the thermometer, what’s wrong with this woman…
What’s it All About?
I was kindly awarded the Versatile Blogger Award by the lovely Nikki Blissett, who blogs on her website:
The award is given to bloggers by other bloggers, like a glorious Mexican wave of appreciation for their work. Nikki is a mental health blogger, and whilst I haven’t suffered any mental health issues myself (other than the usual writing anxietyand random paranoias about impostor syndrome which I’ve blogged about), her honest writing style is a beautiful thing. (And you need to check out the adorable comments from her mum – they’ll melt your heart like a mug of hot chocolate)
Why the First Week of Blogging Feels Like the First Week of Motherhood
I lie on the floor of the landing. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here. I just feel drained.
And then it hits me. This first week of blogging has been like that first week of motherhood. You know the one – when you felt knackered, emotional, and everything was just completely, indisputably surreal.
Right then, thinks my slightly fuzzy brain. You’re not lying here like a great whinge baby for nothing – there’s got to be a post in this somewhere. If I can just rack my memory banks and piece all this together…
So if you remember that hazy, crazy first week of motherhood, or if you’ve ever tried your hand at some new creative thing, have a peek at this and let me know if it all sounds a bit familiar…
Giving Birth – The Ouchy Bit of
The first week of blogging is done and it’s a bit like you’ve given birth. OK, so there were none of those good drugs and nobody came to stitch up your lady parts, but it was similarly intense.
This week’s post is a toughie for me. Early miscarriage is something which affects so many of us, and yet when it happens to you, you feel like the only one in the world. Because nobody ever mentions it. It becomes like your secret shame, and it should never feel that way. So I’m going to be brazen and talk.
Because it’s hard to be the only one without a bump. Without a pram. Without a warm bundle of baby-ness in your arms. You feel like it will never happen for you; like blessings are for the other people. That’s not the case.
So it was always my wish to put my thoughts into words one day, in the hope of helping somebody out there find a little piece of comfort. There is help for you if you have suffered an early miscarriage. There is support. There may be solutions if you look for them and you may still find that rainbow if you keep on searching. I am proof of that.