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The ramblings of Mrs. Hoolihan

My rants on life and everything in between. Desperately trying to remind myself that it's just not worth the jail time.

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Laughter

Not giving give a fuck.


I can’t remember the last time that I truly gave a fuck. I wish I could, but I can’t recall it.

Sometimes I wonder if I have ever given a fuck, or if I’m truly emotionless, in every sense of the word.

I’ve sailed through life never seeking anyone’s approval; my own is sufficient, for if I can’t trust my own judgement, how can I trust anyone else’s? Rhetorical question that I don’t seek an answer on to be honest.

Some people spend their whole life seeking the approval of others, why? I sometimes, fleetingly for a moment, wish I gave more of a fuck, but as much as I try to, I simply don’t.

I’m like Marmite; you either love me or you don’t. And that’s how I approach people in my life too. I either love you or I don’t give two flying fucks about you.

You hate me? Water off a duck’s back – it may hurt those around me, but me? I couldn’t give a fuck. My skin is as thick as a rhinos; I know I should feel some type of emotion, but I just don’t.

You don’t like what I say? Your problem, not mine. I’m as real as they come; so what I may dye my hair, shove every cream on my face to hold back the years and plaster myself in makeup, but underneath all that, when you strip back the layers, what you see is what you get.

Someone recently remarked that I must give a shit sometimes. No is the answer; you see it’s not my fault that someone doesn’t like me, the problem isn’t me, it’s them or you if you’re reading this and hating on me. You see I see you as reading this as a fan, so if you’re reading and hating, then what does that make you? Anyway, my point is that if you’re reading and hating, then it’s not my problem; it’s yours – go figure out why you’re hating on me but still reading.

I’m not a Philosopher, Counsellor or Psychiatrist so I can’t pretend to understand when I just don’t give a fuck. The only thing I do give a fuck over, is when someone close to me takes something to heart, but me? Nah, life’s too short to mull shit over from the mud slingers. Trust your own judgement.  I always have and only on a very few occasions have I been wrong in my 35 years.

I saw something last night that made me laugh out loud on Instagram so much that I nearly wet myself laughing as it’s so apt.

“You can be the ripest, juiciest peace in the world, and there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”

How goddamn true is that? I say fuck em.  Don’t be a people pleaser. Don’t lick that arse. Just be you and if they don’t like you, then that’s there issue. There’s usually reason for it, jealousy is the number one factor – pathetic but again, their problem, not yours.

So on that note, lovers and haters, I’m off to enjoy the rest of what’s left of my day and hyep you guessed it, I’ll not be giving a flying fuck!

 

My little sister, Jolene.


It was 18th February, 1988 and I was 7 years old.

Finally YOU arrived. I’d waited since 1983 for you to arrive and I was delirious when Dad called from the hospital that cold, foggy evening and told me that finally, my dream had come true – I finally had a little, baby sister – my little sister, Joanne.

You were the sweetest little baby that anyone could wish for – beautiful, sweet natured and you barely cried. Always wanting to follow me around, you were like my little shadow! Quiet, you’d sit on the sofa, often sucking your thumb, cuddling your comfort blanket and then you’d be gone – off upstairs you’d take yourself and you’d have climbed into bed, all of your own accord.

Always thoughtful and caring, you were a little worrier from the get go. You’d say your prayers and beg that each night, Mum & Dad, and your brothers and sisters would all be ok.

In the 29 years that I’ve had the honour of calling you my my little sister, you’ve always been there for me. Together we’ve travelled to the furthest corner of the world, lazed on beautiful beaches, drank so much jager that you’ve had to be the one that’s the voice of reason, cried together during our darkest moments, walked down the aisle with me and of course, being the best baby sister ever, shoved me into your size 8 clothes when I’ve needed that extra shove!

Today my little sister, you turn 29. One more year in your 20s before you hit another amazing milestone in your life. Our life hasn’t always been easy, but you make life so much more fun and you take the best of bad and sad situations and make the best you can. Your little laughter lines around your eyes are testament to how you spend your life and whilst yes, at times, you can be a pain in the arse, you’re my little sister and I love you to the moon and back.

Happy birthday my darling little sister, Jolene xxxx

 

I’m feeling sorry for myself. 


I’m ill and I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Whilst I have a cold, my husband has man-flu. Whilst I’m coping, he’s ‘dying.’

We went out to celebrate one of our BFFs birthday last night and ended up home and in bed for 10.30pm whilst our mates partied on.

This am, I’ve played my snapchats back my mates sent downing shots and generally being fucked and I’m laid in bed feeling for myself that my ears are blocked and I can’t hear my own voice (probs no bad think you haters are thinking) and my voice sounds like Estelle in ‘Friends.’

However, for the moaning I’m undertaking, my friends have woken rougher than I have, so I’m ever so slightly smug that I’m not the worst one laid in bed this am.

On that note, I’m off to stuff my face with  Lemsip before our little man arrives back  from his sleep over at his Uncle Ric and Aunty Alex’s – I dare say they’re feeling worse than me anyway! 

I love my husband because…


I’m really not into public declarations of love, mainly because I think it’s a bit sickly to be honest but also because sometimes you don’t want to ram how good you’ve got something, down other people’s throats as I totally appreciate that not everyone’s lives are roses and all that shit.

On this occasion, however, I’m going to make an exception.

I fucking love my husband because today, after a late night all round, when our little boy started yelling his head off when he woke, my husband almost jumped up out of bed and the first words I heard him utter were “let’s let Mummy sleep as she’s really tired.”

A day of Harry emitting Satan like behaviour as he’s tired from a late one last night and having every cartoon shoved at us known to man and Wayne’s nipped out to collect us dinner. This, despite the fact he’s torn cartilage in his knee and finds walking unbearable, never mind driving and he’s not grumbled once today.

I love my husband because simply, he’s the dog’s bollocks.

I hate to disappoint ladies, but “Mr Perfect” doesn’t exist in your world – only mine as I’m lucky enough to have bagged this mofo.

If Carlbserg made husbands; mine would be the very handsome and witty fucking blueprint.

Thank you God, I bagged him!

Where is time going?


Where is time going? A rhetorical question, I know.

It’s been a good while since I last blogged, not because I haven’t wanted to, but because, I’ve simply not had the time.

Time is moving ever so quickly; Harry is ever the bubbly and funny little boy and is the biggest bundle of energy I’ve ever seen! Afternoon naps abandoned, we’re well and truly moving towards being a big boy.

In addition to the subtraction of naps, Harry has hit the ground running in the last few weeks with potty training. Slow to begin with (god why did my fellow Mum friends not worn me hard this stage would be?!). I say slow, really I mean lazy…“Mummy, I’ve just done a wee wee in my pants”  is what we faced on and off and then all of a sudden we were greeted with “Mummy I need a wee wee now!”

Along with potty training, Harry seems to have gathered momentum for being a superb question asker.  “Mummy what’s this?” “Mummy where’s Finn McMissile?” “Mummy can Rocky get in bed with me?” “Mummy do like Dory? I do” “Mummy why is Lightening McQueen red and blue ?” It’s endless, but such fun having such a chatty and charming little boy!

Then there’s the social side of things. Every weekend we seem to be doing something. I honestly can’t remember the last time the three of us snuggled up on the sofa and enjoyed a duvet day. I’m not moaning though – Harry loves being out and about; whether it’s seeing friends and their little munchkins or the family. We’ve seen my Father-in-Law three weekends on the bounce, which has been great and the other day my Dad was to look after Harry in the am. “Grandad Pete is coming over to look after you today” I told Harry “I don’t want to see Grandad  Pete Mummy, I want to see my Grandad Pat” came a sullen little voice – funny how fickle kids can  be!

Then there’s work. Work is mental to say the least, which is good as I can’t bear to be sat around doing nothing to be honest. How anyone is happy to toss it off all day is beyond me – why would you not want to be busy?

Last Friday I was so busy that Harry even came to work with me after his am session at nursery. Deadlines looming, I had no choice but to turn my office into a creche. Potty check, iPad check, books check, ride along Thomas check, high viz jacket check, the entire Disney Cars cast check – you get the picture! Thank god my colleagues managed to entertain the little love – “Mummy, I’ve seen Percy!” Harry exclaimed after being taken to visit the latest addition to our Fleet – what a happy little boy he was after seeing the mega 32t unit! “Mummy, I’ve had fun” Harry sang to me as I pulled out of work at 4pm, mentally and physically exhausted.

Time is flying,  and before we know it, we’ll be proud parents of a 3 year old! Already Harry is telling me who he wants to invite to his party “Mummy, Owen is coming and Frankie and Zak and Henry Giffin. Oliver Oates too but not girls Mummy” – he cracks me right up!

It’s time to focus on Bonfire Night and then Christmas – can’t wait for Christmas this year. I’m trying not to wish time away with it being so precious, but Harry is starting to understand Christmas – or at least the presents bit anyway!

We’ll be taking Harry to Church to help him understand the real reason behind Christmas and that it’s not all about the presents (time will take it’s toll on this I think!). No doubt he’ll be excited at seeing the Crib and it’s contents “Mummy what’s this? he’ll no doubt be shouting in Church, peering into the Manger, but hey, you’re only a child once, so we’ll let him be as inquisitive as he likes – even if it is in Church during a quiet part!

Time for a social life? I don’t think so! There’s date nights…. Very rarely do we have time for a date night (time, again!!!). Last weekend however, we were granted a ‘free pass’ at 3pm to go out that night after one of my brothers and his girlfriend very kindly offered to have handsome for the night. Did we jump at going out? Did we! Harry dropped at Aunty Alex and Uncle Ric’s, we were straight out for a curry. We were home and in pjs for 9pm, but at least we still had time together. So many couples fall into the trap of ignoring each other or sleeping in separate rooms (that’s just weird – it must be like living with a roomate) so we try whenever we can to spend quality time together and be “us” again.

Soon it’ll be Christmas and we’ve two whole weeks together with our munchkin; theatre and dinner out the day we break for Christmas and then bang, we’ll wake and it’s Christmas Eve! Whilst we’re off, we’ll enjoy family time and finally get round to just chilling – roll on lazy days watching Christmas films with hot chocolate and sweets – where we won’t be giving two hoots about “time”!

 

 

 

Day 1 of wanting to kill myself.


I’m no skinny minny, but I’m not a fatty either. I don’t look in the mirror and cringe – as a rule I’m rather happy with myself day to day. The only time I’m not happy is when I have to put a dress on (working in Construction means that this rarely occurs during the week) and then I start lamenting how I really shouldn’t have smashed the last bag of crisps.

It’ 8 weeks and 3 days till we say ‘I do’ and I need to drop a stone. 1 WHOLE STONE.Drastic action has been taken. With the support of my cousins, we’ve joined ‘Slimming World’; if it kills us, we’re losing in time for this wedding.

So here it is, day 1. I’ve read my literature and I’m determined to do this. With the diet of a pre-pubescent teenage boy, I’ve to also look past the aesthetics and re-educate myself when it comes to food.

This is going to be one, long and painful journey so forgive me now in advance of the amount of whining I’ll commit. It’s not a diet I keep telling myself as I stride past the plate of Oreos on display, but rather a change of lifestyle…

God; give me strength.

Happy 2nd birthday my little love!


Happy birthday my darling son! Today you turn 2 and Mummy is sat here wondering how this has happened so fast?

This time 2 years ago (Daddy hates when I reminisce but it’s good for the soul and the mind my love), Mummy was cradling you in her arms – I was thunderstruck by your arrival (and how big you were!) and I couldn’t believe you’d finally arrived, safely (although it was very touch and go at points) and how beautiful you were.

A 16 hour labour filled with Daddy making Mummy laugh the whole way through and we couldn’t have envisioned what a beautiful little baby you’d be. Actually, Mummy is lying. When you born, you weren’t pretty – not immediately anyway. You were battered and bruised and very, very swollen – 2 days later and and you were a corker, an absolute beauty my little love!

And here we are, anyway, 2 years later and you’re quite a little boy. Incredibly well mannered (people are always commenting on how you always remember to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’), polite, boisterous and funny; we couldn’t be prouder of you.

This am you opened your presents from Mummy, Daddy, Aunty T, Aunty Laura & Grandad Pat’s card as well as Nanny & Grandad Ron’s  and you were thrilled, but little did you know that Mummy & Daddy have another present for you this evening to open once your Aunty & Uncles and Grandad Pete arrive and Mummy is so excited, she can’t concentrate today!

“Thank you Daddy” you said when Daddy opened you your Mickey flip flops from Aunty T – so polite and thankful; Mummy’s eyes were brimming at how cute you were. You’ve been spoilt by Aunty T and Uncle Nige and no doubt your other Aunts and Uncles and Grandad Pete will later too – you’re the apple of their eye after-all and they love to shower you with attention and in return, you adore them too.

We’ve your party on Saturday; all your favourite people under one roof – you’ll be in your element no doubt! All your cousins will be present; they adore you and you adore them too – it’s so cute to see you altogether, especially Lexi as she trys to boss you around!

2 whole years we’ve been lucky enough to be Mummy & Daddy to you and you’re a pleasure to be around. Witty, articulate & funny – Mummy could go on all day!

You’ve enriched our lives beyond belief; we’re the lucky ones to be graced with you and whilst you’ll always, always, always be my baby, I look forward to the future milestones we’re going to share with you and I cherish each and every day with you and all the memories we’re making.

I’ll continue to document your life and hopefully one day, when you’re older, should you want to, you can look back and read Mummy’s blogs with the love and affection in which I write these.

For now my little one, enjoy your 2nd birthday and with much love, hugs and happiness, Mummy will sign off.

Happy birthday Harry, my darling little love, all my love, Mummy xxxxxx

 

 

 

 

Why hello 2016, you’ve arrived!


Happy New Year! A little late to the party (as always) but better late than never I say.

Wow. What a year 2015 was. Unsure where to start really. I enjoyed Christmas shutdown – 2 weeks of domestic bliss with Wayne and Harry I thought, oh no, the reality was oh so different this year. We literally spent the first week, like blue arsed flies, running here, there and everywhere. I’d forgotten a few presents this year (I’m not the most memorable person if I’m honest, having forgotten my brother’s birthday in November and my Dad’s in February, at the start of the year….thankfully they’re not the whingey, moany types and all has been forgiven). Anyway, we ended up shopping this year, right up until the 23rd. Never again. With this pissy, shitty wet weather we’re encountering at present, this wasn’t fun let me tell you.

New Years resolution number one made – to be far more organised and way less forgetful. I can’t promise I’ll stick to it as my life often feels like a whirlwind, but I pledge to try (I’ve a diary in my office, so it’s a start).

Christmas itself was lovely; no drama, just lots of fun, love and laughter. I feel for those families who’re slinging mud across the dinner table on what should be the most family orientated day of the year. What has gone so wrong for them that they can’t at least be civil is what my mummy always used to ask – ‘one day’ she’d say, ‘why can’t they be civil for just one day?’ As I’ve grown older, i have to say I disagree with mummy, the Idealist. Sometimes you just can’t simply forgive and forget for one day. It’s all or nothing in my book.. but that’s another story. I’m just thankful we didn’t encounter a Christmas like that.

Anyway, 2015 has been packed on its’ way – what a fun packed year that was! Harry learnt to walk (hooray because that crawling stage and not knowing where he’d become stuck, was frankly draining at times).  I welcomed a new job and career change (I didn’t see that coming, but god I’m so thankful it did come). We’ve enjoyed numerous BBQs in the summer months with our nearest and dearest, our little man became an official member of the Catholic club (what a relief),  date nights where we’ve been thankful to just eat without having a little hand rip food straight from your mouth,  we’ve rearranged our wedding and not to mention our little break most recently to the Coast, which was simply perfect from start to finish. Our little baby has officially made the transition from baby to toddler and Wayne and I couldn’t be prouder of the beautiful little boy that we’re proud to say is ours.

2015 was all about Harry. As will 2016 and 2017 and every other year – I think it’s fair to say we’re both just a little obsessed with him!

Onto 2016 and we can officially declare, that this year, we get MARRIED! We’re both so incredibly excited, that neither of us can wait for 11th June to bolt round. Our best friends but us a little countdown sign for how many days until we tie the knot (157!) and Wayne has been dutifully altering the days as we go – so cute that he’s so excited, given that when we first met, he said he never wanted to get married!

‘Save the Date’  cards have been issued and we’re officially on countdown! Wayne even talked me into booking our honeymoon the other day – this shit is proper real now! Hen and stag dos will sound be in swing – whoo hoo – married life here we come!

Talking of shit, there’s lots of this that I’ve left behind in 2015. Through sheer necessity (and tiredness) shit has been left where it belongs. If 2015 taught me anything, it’s that true colours shine from within. Sadly not everyone is equipped with this and they show nothing but envy and nastiness, leaving nothing but a sour taste behind. The good thing with a sour taste, is that if you’ve mouthwash strong enough, you simply spit it out and it disappears. So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve metaphorically spat all the crap out from my life.

Life is way too short to be sad, envious, vengeful or hateful – leave it where it belongs in the past. With enough positive events to look forward to this year, I’m refusing to let negativity affect my his year – cheers to 2016, watching our little boy grow and amaze us even more and becoming Mrs H!

 

Operation countdown.


Operation countdown is underway. Only 4 more sleeps until my Christmas break begins and I can’t bloody wait.

This am I awoke at my usual time of 6.20am and it was utter darkness. That darkness that hangs over us in the last few weeks in the run up to Christmas here in the UK. It’s the kind of darkness that makes you want to stay in bed. And hibernate. For the rest of the Winter.

Anyway, I’ve 4 more sleeps until a well deserved rest, I can’t wait to spend time with my little man, Harry and other half, Wayne the pain. I love Christmas and although I’ve still a shed load of shopping to do (although not as much as usual, thank god as I’ve ordered online this year) I can’t wait for it.

Harry’s loving the Christmas tree; so much so that he’s arranged and re-arranged the baubles about 673 times since it went up last week. I can’t wait to spend the next 2 weeks with my little love – 2 whole weeks with my bundle of loveliness, lie ins, cuddles, laughter with Wayne and fun times with the family – what’s not to like about Christmas!

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