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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.

Category

Marriage

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!

Thank god it’s over.


Thank God it’s over. The wedding.

The dust is now settling and I have, what everyone else has had for the last year and that’s my life back.

This time last year we changed our wedding venue and decided to enjoy a quintessential British wedding complete in the British countryside with a marquee, afternoon tea and Pimms ahoy. When we decided to embark upon this exciting adventure, I’m not sure we quite understood what we had taken on, especially as I was studying quite intensely at the time too.

Exams sat weeks before Christmas, Christmas came and went and then that was it. Full on wedding mode. And that’s how it was right up until I set foot in Church.

Months of planning and all my worries evaporated the moment I stepped into Church and saw my husband to be’s beaming smile!

The honeymoon may be over, but we’re definitely enjoying the start of married life. Something feels ‘different’ – a sense or feeling I’m not sure which, of more togetherness.

I think I must be the only Bride who doesn’t mourn the fact that the wedding is over and is just simply happy, to be finally married. It was never about the ‘big wedding’ – it was about the ‘traditional’ wedding and the fact Wayne and I were marrying or uniting if you like; formally making him and his Dad a part of my family – Wayne and his Dad are adored by my family so formalising it was only a matter of course really.

Yes, the wedding may be over but I’m glad. We enjoyed the most magical day ever (barring the very notable absence of a number of people sadly) and the important thing wasn’t the party or dress, but that we committed to one another. We begin a new chapter in our lives together that so many wonderful family and friends were happy to be a part of, but that’s past now and we have a wonderful future to look forward to!

This Christmas will be wonderful; a united family, with the usual games and laughter – but this time, I’ll be Team Hoolihan – straying to the dark side to assist my husband and Father in Law in smashing my brothers and sisters!

My husband will come home to me cooking tea in my veil and yes, the wedding cards still adorn every free space of our home, but it’s time to look forward to the rest of our lives as married couple with our precious son and family. Happy times to continue!

 

 

Day 3 of married life.


Well it’s day 3 of married and quite simply, it couldn’t be more perfect.

Saturday was the best day ever! The rain held off until tea time and then we enjoyed England’s finest rain it had to offer. Did it spoil it? Hell no! It added to the atmosphere; friends and family pulling together to ensure no one was soaked running from the marquee to the bar and back, buggies were under cover and that everyone had fun. 

Both my Dad and my Father in Law were on top form and so much laughter exuded both – an absolute pleasure to witness! We asked my FIL to read a reading from the bible (1 Corinthians 13) and when he welled up, half the church held thier breath a amazing! 

Harry was a a dream (as always) and in waiting for me to arrive at church (30 mins late – Wayne was anxious I heard!) he fell asleep. Little love!

Dancing, rain, afternoon tea – a day to remember for certain! 

My new husband is more than anyone could wish for; just too cute seeing how emotional he was throughout the day. Incredibly privileged to call Wayne my husband – I couldn’t be prouder of him! 

We’re presently on honeymoon and being the dutiful wife, we’re enjoying the delights of the Euros at present – small things make him happy! 

Signing out to enjoy a drink with my husband – could life be anymore perfect? 

Losing weight. Or not and not giving a fuck.


The impending Hen Do is almost upon me. My last night of ‘freedom’ is literally around the corner and I’m still to lose any real weight.

At 5ft10, I’m hardly petite. I’m not fat but by no means am I certainly no anorexic skinny finny fuckety to do dah latte drinking thing either. You see the problem lies within; I just love food. And it, more importantly loves me.

I’m no gym goer either. I’m a full time Mummy, who happens to work full time too (I hate that because I work FT I’m not a ‘Full-time’ Mummy. Yes I bloody am; Harry my darling son is exactly why I work full-time – to ensure he enjoys the trappings of a loving home, holidays and breaks away plus whatever he wants – he’s no brat before you go down that route either.) So, in between being full time Mummy and a full time worker, it leaves me with little time (or energy) to work out. Here I am, all 11 stone of me.

For years before I had Harry, I was always 10 and half stone; no more no less (unless you’re counting my ‘fat’ period for 2/3 years that my family won’t let me forget, but I’ve no idea what i weighed as I never used to weigh myself really). Anyway my hen do is next month and my sisters and all my friends are these uber attractive, skinny minnie things (I’m even fatter than my pregnant sister!) and I’ve come to a conclusion.

The conclusion is this (and it goes for my wedding dress too). I can’t have fat arms. Ah ah no, not happening. I’m happy enough at the size I am, because let’s be frank, I simply don’t have the time or will power to ‘slim’ down. As long as I don’t have fat arms or a fat upper back bulging from my wedding dress, then I’m happy.

Bollocks to bowing to peer pressure; I’m happy enough as I am. I’m not perfect and there are body parts I hate (fat hips I’m talking about you here), but I’m nearly 35, my body has carried a baby, I’m not exactly massive so why fix what isn’t broke?

To all the fat haters out there, I’ve two words for you – FUCK OFF. You may be skinnier than me, but are you happy? Like truly happy? Perhaps you are, perhaps you’re not. But don’t go throwing stones when you live in a glasshouse is the advice I’m giving as none of us are perfect.

On that note, I’m off to stuff my fat face and be happy. And then I’ll hit the weights tonight!

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!

Operation wedding diet. Aka unleashing my inner Gisele.


I know, I can’t believe it myself. I’m dieting before Christmas has even begun. No, I assure you, I’ve not been knocked about the head; I’ve simply realised that my wedding day is 6 months today.

I feel sick. I’m dizzy. I’m full of nerves. Not at the thought of marrying the love of my life and Father to my amazing son. No. No I’m sick at the thought of being packed into my wedding dress.

I’d just stuffed my fat face full of Sausage roll and baked beans courtesy of my fab colleague when it dawned on me. But before our wedding day, I’ve my hen do and there’s no way I’m going to the fat one when I’m surrounded by such creatures of beauty in the form of sisters, family and friends. Uh uh, it’s not happening.

With immediate effect, I’m stepping away from the carbs, the chocolate bars, the fizzy drinks. This is quite honestly the toughest challenge I face in my life right now.

If it kills me, i won’t be packed into that dress; my inner Miss Piggy can piss right off – my inner Gisele is bloody well screaming to get out, the least I can do is listen to her. Watch this space.

Wedding Fever.


Wedding Fever. It’s upon us.

Now I may not sound like I’m that excited; I am, very excited – I mean who wouldn’t be excited to become the future Mrs H after all? I’m reminded daily how much of a catch my husband to be is, and frankly, I know this all too well – I’m one very lucky lady after all.

The realisation that we’re getting married in less than 9 months, is very real now. Church and venue booked, cancelled and re-booked and dates amended, this is it. It’s all systems go now! I won’t lie; I’m now also starting to stress too. Luckily my Maid of Honour is like the modern-day Monica from Friends, so on the day, I’ve no doubt that she’ll be charging round, clip board in tow, yelling at everyone to do as they’re told – the day itself isn’t daunting in that sense, it’s the organising in the lead up to it that is. This is when a girl needs her Mum.

The hen do organisation is pretty much underway, stag preps have been set firmly in concrete now, so I can calm the hell down on this front. Whilst I haven’t chosen my dress yet, I’ve a pretty good idea what I’d like (let’s be honest, I’ll probably end up with something polar opposite knowing me!) and honeymoon destination has almost been decided (this is Mr H’s domain – if he’s happy, then I’m happy).

What’s starting to stress me is wedding invites. No family dramas or anything like that, thank god, it’s just a case that I have a ridiculously large family and Wayne is way too popular for his own good. What does this equal? Well I’ll tell you what it equals, a bloody headache for me!

Wedding plans altered in the recent summer months and we decided to massively downscale and enjoy a small, intimate wedding instead. Beyond excited, we’re really looking forward to our new arrangements and we both feel way less stressed – after all a wedding isn’t a show or a pantomime – there’s no part for everyone to play, it’s about two people who love and respect each other, making a life long commitment to love one another, making one another laugh, irritate each other and be there for each, through thick and thin. No dramatics, just a declaration of love is what we want, so we’ve said fuck it, that’s what we’re having.

Yes, family and friends are going to be upset no doubt, however, it’s not about anyone else, it’s about us. I hope that those that love us, respect us and our decision and aren’t offended and can simply be happy for us. If they don’t, then quite simply they don’t love or respect us and as I always say, life’s too short to be upset with those who don’t love or respect you.

So off I go, back to wedding prepping, back to my drawing board of invites and flow charts and together with future husband, we’ll tackle everything as we usually do, as a tag team and a little like the All Blacks and Tyra Banks – determined and fierce!

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