Blog 37

Well, let me just dust myself down.  I fear my chicka dees that I have crashed and burned just a little and am more than a little embarrassed to be writing this blog after being away for so long.  But after receiving a text message from a London clinic saying I can save £500 on a gastric band (remember week 1 blog 1?)  and a  letter  in the same week from my doctor asking me if I would like to take part in an obesity trial with Southampton University, I had another light bulb moment and realised it was time resume my journey.  Bit of a stupid time to refocus, I agree, but let’s aim for damage limitation over the next couple of weeks.

Anyway....here we go then, a couple of things to share with you since we last spoke;
It was  over a coffee with the girlies at the end of the summer holidays, when our dahlings had gone back to school.   We thought it would be a great idea to embark upon a trip to Thorpe Park, without our children.  Oh yes!  Nothing like a near death experience with the safety net of Tena Lady to clear the cobwebs and unleash our inner child.  Date in the diary and before we knew,  it we were off for a day of unbridled fun.

It was full on from the moment we arrived.  We rode every extreme ride, whilst screaming a variety of expletives above the skies of Surrey, followed thereafter with a community groan of relief as we re-connected with Terra Firma.  Or to bring the whole experience more to life for you we filled the air with YES!!!! WHOOOO! AAAGGHHHH .F****** AAAGHHHHH.... YEAHHH and oooooh......

Noises, quite frankly, that our husbands could only ever dream of hearing again.

Anyway, on a really fab and personal note, I am now a proud member of our fabulously wonderful NHS Team working at Chiddingfold Surgery.  Lapping up the learning in a medical environment with one of the hardest working, compassionate and professional groups of people that I have ever had the pleasure to work with.  A proper grown up team member with a real pigeon hole and a shiny Silver name badge and I am a very happy girl.

Clearly though, as much as I am relishing my new job and working the additional hours, there is a definite period of adjustment for the other members of the family.  Mummy’s extra time away has resulted in certain and significant changes in the family dynamics.  We have now, for example, introduced the family game of ‘laundry Jenga’. This is a new game, in our household, where each family member is given the opportunity to display their ability and skill in extracting items of clothing from the mountainous ironing pile, without toppling the lot to the floor. 

On the days that the laundry hasn’t quite made it into the washing machine, there is always the chance that one of us will need to go commando.  Sadly though, there is always one clear loser with this one as I have taught my girls that for every night you are away from home, you times your underwear requirement by 3 and have bought them enough pairs to cover for such eventualities.  So on a one week holiday it is necessary to take a minimum of 21 pairs of knickers each packed in the suitcase.  That is simply the law.   However, I have come to realise that boys do not adhere to such law and it is now that I offer my huge apologies in advance if you spot my hubby adjusting himself in public due to lack of undergarments.  Please do not report him to the police, just send him back to ours and I will do my level best to get an economy load in the washer or organise a little emergency run to M&S.

 

The other stressy thing to calculate, as a full on working mum (other than sodding toilet roll usage or in reserve, the bloody kitchen roll usage), is food.  For the love of god can somebody other than me contribute to the shopping list please with the essentials? Forget about can’t cook, wont cook, ready steady cook, or Nigellas 101 uses for cocaine flour cook book, just write the basics on the list please as I haven’t quite mastered the skill of telepathy in knowing what has been consumed during my absence.

 

Right then, grump over and moving on now... a few weeks ago in amongst all of the madness hubby and I embarked on a great child free weekend to Poland.  A fabulous hotel booked above a microbrewery and four days of not having to be a responsible grown up.  Hurrah! The only tinsy winsy down side was that we had to fly Ryan Air from Bristol. Anticipating the brawl for seats, I booked us into the front row, hoping to get a little extra leg room and a quick getaway.  Also, thinking in the back of my mind that if we needed to darn emergency rubber rings or inflate arm bands that the extra space could prove beneficial.

 

Occupying the front seats directly opposite the cabin crew also proved to be a bonus.  Not for the replenishment of refreshments but for the overhearing of the ups and downs of the stewards love life.  His boyfriend of 6 months had just confessed that he was married but still wanted to be with him. Oh my, I could have happily been held in a holding pattern for at least another hour.  Top marks for entertainment on the outbound flight Mr Ryan Air.

 

So to quickly summarise Gdansk; beerski, boobski’s, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang architecture and clock towers along the cobbled child catcher streets not understanding a word of the local language. Done. That's the bit I remember anyway.
 

And then just as we were beginning to adjust to our new blood alcohol levels, it was time to head home.....

Front row seats again on the return sector (how posh) and an equally entertaining flight but in a completely different way.  It transpired that a large group ‘in the middle section’ had decanted copious amounts of vodka into more innocent soft drink vessels and were consuming vast quantities with gusto. Nothing like a bit of a Polish sing-song on board to add to the atmosphere. Shortly afterwards though it wasn’t the singing that began to grate on me,  it was the distribution of child packs containing whistles. 

 

For the love of god.  Somebody up in the big corporate world, who gets paid lots of pennies, deemed it a good idea to entertain the children on board with child packs containing drawing tools, sugar fixes and whistles.  Once one got started they all started.  And then more singing and Just when I wished that I had brought my descant recorder to get my own back, the wheels were down followed by a rapturous applause with a whistle accompaniment. Surely people... a safe landing is part of a pilots job spec?

 

Oh alright... I suppose we should talk about the weight.  Now I know that this is a very silly time to refocus on the journey but to leave it all to the New Year could be very dangerous.  So as crazy as it might seem, I am going to bite the bullet and will be weighing in next Thursday morning. I know that at least half a stone has crept on and am dreading it. Embarrassed? Yes. Disappointed in myself? Yes.  Giving up? No.  And that is that. So a big deep breath in... let’s expand that balcony bra to its limits and forward we go again my little weight loss buddies.

 

.... A new job, a Bridget Jones mini break and a fabulous Christmas Fair achieved.....seventy pounds and counting...Sx