New Year…. No new me


Hi Everyone

Happy New Year and all of that BS.

Sorry it’s been so long since I blogged last, but I do have a full time job and don’t just sit on my arse watching Jeremy Kyle all day (but that is the dream) also with the approach to xmas and the wonderful Harry turning 8 I’ve been busy!

The infamous Harry Kirby turned “big boy 8” on the 22nd December and had pre birthday celebrations in the form of a disco, note to self do not ever have a night out before having 20 kids screaming at a birthday party…the morning prior I spent 30 minutes trying to scrub a cock that was drawn on my back the night before with a headache that didn’t disappear for the duration.

Christmas was the usual, a lot of hype for one day, but great nether the less me and Harry both got spoilt by my amazing fam and his dads fam as per norm. Harrys top gifts were a dart board (shaven tips – safety version, before anyone thinks were mental) customised football boots (but he still spends most time diving on the floor) Liverpools goal keeping kit – which he proceeded to wear for 2 days on the bounce which is bright green for those reading who don’t know, so I pretty much had a 4ft sprout following me around (this is keeping his own dream alive that he can reach stardom, me and his dad have already accepted the fate he wont make us millions and see us to a greater life, maybe this will be child number two – if that ever happens, I still can remember child birth and its not something I’m overly enthused about experiencing again, literally makes my vag wince at the thought).

He accumulated an unnecessary amount of cash inbetween these days and now me and his dad are considering his financial aid as Christmas/ the birthday shafted us, hard.

Sooo the famous New Years resolutions …most of us will set ourselves really low standards and still fail to achieve them for longer than 4 months, max. Going to the gym, eating better, staying away from dickhead ex’s, not being a slag, giving up chocolate, whatever else goes on in joe publics weird little heads to come up with.

I haven’t got one I set myself one every year and give up! So all I have promised to do is leave 2017 drama in 2017 and enter 2018 the exact same me, a knob head, single (after several more dates) about 9lb chunkier, roots the size of an average mans penis and adult acne from eating a selection box for breakfast a little to often this past month.

FYI bringing your left overs into work only stops you eating shit at home, instead you can eat what you would have ate home in shorter amount of time to make yourself feel even sicker, quicker.

To see in the New Year I was with 4 other friends in the house with a nice amount of alcohol while playing board games with the music on. We must be getting to that age now we realise NYE is overrated and have become some what sophisticated, even though this resulted in Carlie covering her parents rugs in numerous varieties of alcohol throughout the night. Perks of this choice in “celebration” was I wasn’t overwhelmed by the amount of knob heads fighting to get a drink from the bar, nor crying when it strikes midnight because you suddenly remember everything “bad” that’s occurred in the year you are saying goodbye too (surely I can’t be the only person that this happens too) Sometimes can be a lot to contend with, then you end up  having the awful thought of “I’m such a fuck up, why do I love bad people and do stupid things at my own expense” but these are all good learning lessons, I guess…I hope!

Apart from a few negatives 2017 has been reasonably kind. Highs – I watched my beautiful sister get married, got a new job, laughed and laughed a lot more. Lows – I watched people I loved leave me and watch someone I love tremendously become ill.

I was hoping taking the time away from blogging I’d of had something a little more hilarious to come out with, but I have been too busy to be funny and have been working on getting fat, or maybe I was only ever going to last 3 ropey blogs, I’m sure we will find out my fate this year.

A pearl of wisdom for you all to take into the new year would be, if you cant be kind, don’t be a cunt.

I hope 2018 is everything you wished for but lets face it, its what we will make it.

Love x


The dreaded P

Girls, maybe the odd guy might be reading but let’s speak about the dreaded displeasure of the monthly P…..

(Men if you read this it may give you a good insight or totally upset you)

Why? Why us? I should consider shares in tampax and always!

Blokes think oh it can’t be that bad?! Hold fire let me tell you it can be ‘that bad’ could you imagine shedding something internally and it exiting your body and that be a great feeling….no so don’t be such silly c**ts. This is where men let themselves down….

Speaking from my own experience (I’ll keep this moderately tame as most of you reading this know me and will have to look at me in the eyes again at some point) I’ve never been one of the lucky ones that go on any contraception and it stops the monthly hinderance…I’ve tried it all minus the depo injection to no prevail, instead they are that bad I have been hospitalised and from time to time take tranexanic acid to control it, on top of no regularity just an awful surprise when it fancies ruining my week, in my case not just a week some have hung around for as long as a month. GO ME! 🙄

Can you imagine the horror to feel the dreaded warm gush (absolutely up there with one of the few words that make me feel uncomfortable) come over you out of the blue, while sat on your electric blue works chair…. imagine having to message your boss who at the time sat behind you and just saying “I need to go home” and the explaining the horror why “I’ve just came on my period on the chair through my trousers” luckily she wasn’t mortified and very understanding and off I ran. Men who are still reading are probably like OMG you awful minger, but this is one of many awfully embarrassing stories. I’ve been lucky that it’s always been in the company of like minded people who laugh with me 😂

Imagine showing your brand new car to someone and the person hops in the passenger seat for a drive and then that happens, my fuck!!- I’m sorry 😂 I did however clean it for them haha – these disaster stories are my life and MEN have the audacity to ask why women are so upset or have two personalities when this all happens?! Sorry mate while my womb leaves my body I’ll just sing a really fucking happy song and have a dance yeah?

My moods are yo-yo at best, but at this particular time they are a yo-no, I could throttle someone for just breathing. Look at me “what you looking at”. Cut me up on the round about I will follow you for the rest of your journey continuously beeping while doing every hand gesture known to man, sometimes I might wind down my window for some extra spice! While your lucky that my seatbelt is the only thing holding me in my car while squashing my sensitively sore period tits/fried eggs.

Period tits – you heard it here first.

Do I want to be this person, no! Do I cry after, yes! Do I cry for lots of other pointless reasons, of course, ahh look at that beautiful Christmas tree *insert emotional breakdown*. Unfortunately this is beyond my control and the Doctors so they tell me. It’s my hormones making me the crazy bitch🤣

Remember girls this is totally acceptable to behave like it, we didn’t chose the vag life, the vag life chose us! X

The break up

How many have you have been so heartbroken you have ate until you felt physically sick, cried until you can’t breathe while catching a glimpse of yourself in last night’s pyjamas with not a smidgen of make-up, in the mirror thinking OMG aren’t I so UGLY! While making the most horrific of noises to yourself (I think this is mainly girls, but wouldn’t it be lovely to think men can cry hysterically over us too).

This has been me and I’m sure it has been some of you….

But this blog will be all the good advice and the stiff kick up your arse you need when trying to ‘get over someone’.

I remember feeling like you will never get over it, like your heart is literally broke in that many pieces it would fall out of your arse if you farted hard enough! But you definitely get over it and find your next willing victim or sometimes not so willing then you repeat this process again VERY quickly.

broken heart

First of all you have to cut the mofo’ off – As much as humans we are suckers for punishment, do NOT text do NOT call under no circumstances do this, you will be taking 10 steps forward to take what seems 100 back. It’s unfortunate when someone doesn’t ‘choose’ you that they tend to be the first person who extends the olive branch of conversation, the truth is they still don’t ‘choose’ you. Brutal facts would point too they are just bored, feel guilty for pie’ing you, or want to do the rude with you and the good old favourite ‘be friends’. Say NO, no vag or penis and what its connected too is worth this amount of upset, mythical private parts and humans do not exist!

Granted this process doesn’t always happen and then when you don’t hear from them it feels just as bad, then you do the messaging – Catch 22.

Secondly NEVER I repeat NEVER think you can just meet up with them do ‘normal’ shit, even worse sleep with them and have no feelings be involved. I know occasionally needs must when you’re a human which makes the appeal very tempting, but don’t, that oxytocin being released will not do you any good, keep that in and your knickers firmly on!

Thirdly you have to address what went wrong and ‘mourn’ if you don’t do this I don’t truly believe you will ever get over it, you have to accept the reasons why it didn’t work out or why it never would of, cry and miss that person. However there should be a limit to how much time you invest into doing this though…. It won’t do you no good watching trash TV and eating shite for weeks – and all of the other cliché break up essentials. Remember next time you see the little fuck whit you want to be FAB not FLAB…this leads up nicely to part four.

Once your done moping about you need to become a better you! Start doing the things you maybe put on hold while you was wasting time with that person. Transform yourself. Get a hobby, go get yourself abs (I’ve been telling myself I will get them for the past 6 years, it’s not happened yet) buy that new car or whatever else it is you want. Good can follow bad (trust me! Imagine how much better I felt getting a payrise and a promotion shortly after it definitely took more than the edge off) take a holiday, do things that make YOU happy no one else, all while doing these things having a good clique of friends will definitely help!

Then you have to move on…. Fake it for a while until it becomes genuine – this may seem harsh but at some point you have to get over it and shape your ideas up! Dating after is pretty brutal you will initially compare people to that person and think nothing will beat that person, but going through the motions will get you used to the idea of something new, something exciting! Something better than what you had. Granted I can’t give the best advice on where to find these sorts of people seeing as I have been strongly single for sometime but whether its drunk at your local or on the internet….people actually get married off of Tinder/POF so let’s keep the dream alive that not those on internet ‘dating’ are catfishing you or just overly keen to show you the sausage or the clam (ladies who do this c’mon you are letting us down stop!)  Imagine when you hit that point of thinking they was a fucking mong and its ‘there loss’ that’s when the real PARTAY starts.

As Beyonce would say….

boy bye

There will always be someone that wants YOU, you are better than wasting your time on someone who doesn’t truly deserve it. Your time is precious…

Remember boys and girls are replaceable there is enough of us in the fucking world.

Act classy think sassy !xx

Anxiety..and all the other unpleasant shit that follows.

A serious blog which wont be often!

This is still such a taboo subject and I am an avocet for anyone who addresses the issues surrounding Anxiety, Depression and Post Natal in a productive way. This may come as a surprise to some people as I would like to think I come across as happy and confident, but I hope some of the struggles I experienced and will mention in my blog hopefully will help someone in some which way, whether this just shows them they are not alone. I have never spoken about this to anyone who wasn’t family or considered to be, but today I am prepared to be an open book (all for the love of a blog).

Having a baby should be the most enjoyable time of your life but when you develop anxiety with a touch of post natal depression it really does kill that feeling and you suddenly are sucked into a feeling of despair, struggle and tainted memories of what should be the happiest. I hate that I am starting this blog tarnishing the best day of my life giving birth to Harry but this is initially when things started to go “wrong”.

I had no apprehensions on motherhood when I became pregnant (which seems to strange seeing as I was young) But I never once thought ‘how would I cope’ ‘how can I afford a baby’ these thought were heavily pushed away by my family, the excitement of a new little baby and mainly so my wonderful mums support and words of encouragement ‘that we can do it together’. Finding out you’re going to be a mum at 19 isn’t the best life choice that was ever made, and I’m sure deep down my parents probably felt very disappointed (which is a feeling I try to forget about and I hope that they are now proud at the mum I am to H) but by far the best decision upon reflection, the person Harry has made me become I truly believe I wouldn’t have been without him. The hunger I have now to succeed and have the best for us is unmeasurable and that is owed to him. Before Harry came along I was a typical teenager forever in the pub, using your parents ‘home as a hotel’, working as an office assistant with no real ambition or thoughts to my future and what I would become.

Looking back on things I believe the start of my Anxiety and PND kicked in when Harry developed Colic around 2months old. This is when I really started to have doubts on what sort of mother I was and would become. Truth is both me and Harrys dad struggled to be parents when we was still mentally kids ourselves, I had a lot of resentment at the time to Harrys dad as I felt like my life changed so much but his didn’t, it was a responsibility I felt wasn’t equally shared, all whilst I am eternally grateful for the hardwork he done to keep a roof over our head and provide for us financially (in which he still does now), I didn’t feel supported enough as a ‘mum’. This ultimately is what led us to split up by Harrys 1st birthday, but I muddled on Harry would start staying the weekends at his dads, while he popped by during the week to see the baby.

I know he won’t be reading this blog as he ‘doesn’t get it’ but the care I have for Harrys dad runs deep and I never would of expected to of had a baby with someone who would turn out to be my best friend.

I was now 21 by this point and depended heavily on my mum for support, to which I will forever be grateful. On top of personal circumstances going to shit, a baby who still didn’t sleep through the night, juggling shift work 2/3 times a week, with an evening at college – I couldn’t cope, not cope in the way I wanted to, or be the mum I wanted to be, this wasn’t the worse (that was still to come) but should have been the point upon reflection I should have seeked help sooner.

I met someone else who I had a turbulent relationship with for what would be the next 6 years of my life (this post isn’t too bad mouth anyone or play the blame game, I loved this person regardless of our differences and loved that they loved my son also, upon reflection now that we are both happy apart, we should have called it a day sooner, but for whatever reasons we stayed together) The first year of us together was happy, exciting, everything I was looking for and they cared for my son as much as he did me. Relationships all have their problems I was never naïve to not think that, but when you suffer with Anxiety or Depression these situations are always worse as you do not necessarily have the tools required to deal with them productively or correctly. Nor does the person on the other end. It adds to the pile of shite that’s already firmly cemented in your brain that you can’t deal with.

One thing I’ve learnt being an adult is time passes really fast, a couple of years passed and I got worse without even knowing until I hit what would be my “rock bottom”. Imagine telling your mum you didn’t want to be here no more or look after the most precious gift you could have. My beautiful mum stepped in and had Harry to sleep at hers minimal of once a week on her own with him or with me staying at our family home 3 nights a week (sometimes more sometimes less). I wouldn’t go home to get ready to go out and party with my friends, I went home and slept solidly until the next day when I would go and collect him. I got by like this for a while and that was enough to ‘tie me over’. My moods were terrible I was forever crying and slowly started to leave the house less often, forever having heart palpitations, dizzy spells and plummeted to a dinky 6 and a half stone. My mum heavily encouraged me to see the doctor and of course they said I had Anxiety and Depression, something I struggle to accept years later, I always thought that I was physically ill not mentally, and it’s hard to associate so many physical symptoms to a mental illness. I was prescribed Antidepressants which I never took, I hated the thought of medically ‘getting happy’ and not taking them has resulted in what’s been a very long battle in getting myself happy- but I done it. I did however do numerous sessions over a long period of time with a therapist which occasionally I did think was of no help, but fundamentally it was these people who lifted my spirits reassured me I wasn’t alone and gave me the tools I use now to cope better. I still use the NHS to do ‘adhoc’ sessions when I feel like I’m ‘struggling’ I don’t believe these feelings ever go away they rear there ugly head from time to time to remind me that this is something you learn to manage but they never truly vanish.

At my worse I would wake in sheer panic ripping the sheets of the bed convinced I had killed my baby in my sleep by leaving him in bed with me, turning up to the house my mum now shared with partner frantically knocking the door at 2am crying feeling in despair – with what was my life. Going to hospital to have numerous tests done because I was losing weight and my heart was erratic, became ‘normal’.

My mums partner once said “I looked like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders and I had everything to look forward to, pretty, a lovely boy a nice home and he was sad to see me live my life and be so unhappy” amazing how someone who doesn’t need to care about you is bothered about the person you are, I am still very sorry for the strain I must have been for my mum and Wayne at that time. But without my mum specifically I wouldn’t know where I’d be. But what he said to my mum that day is something I forever I tell myself now, I do! I do have a wonderful boy, a good job, a nice home and I am a good mum – I deserve to be a mum.

I started to slowly but surely get better, I can’t remember the last time I turned up at my mums house (has to be atleast 2 years plus).

Going back to work fulltime was the best choice I ever made, forcing yourself to do something every day is a great coping mechanism although inside I felt like I couldn’t, but I was doing it. I had routine a good job with good prospects and a career path everything I wanted for me and Harry.

I ended up making a really great friend from it to. And when she had her little boy any ‘mummy’ moment she may of felt she wasn’t coping with I’d like to think she never felt alone, because the calamity that was me had experienced that and more to which she was telling me.

Depression can come and go, yes I get extra tearful at stuff I shouldn’t but the feeling of despair has left me, I feel sad for things that have happened and I feel I could have done better and the burden I know I was.

But what counts is I’m doing the best I can now. Anxiety will forever be the annoying part of me that stops me being the once carefree person I was.

I generally shit my pants at everything, travelling too far and being stuck in traffic jams, Harry becoming unwell with an illness, death, getting on plane, walking down the aisle on my sister’s wedding day and doing my speech, my own shadow, but I challenge these and challenge myself to do them, I still do all of these things. They may come with commotion of me frantically pacing around the airport and the odd crying moment and me saying “I feel like I can’t breathe” a ridiculous amount of times, but I’m doing them nether the less. I have fought these feelings for long enough – they will never stop me not now not ever, why should I have a life like that when I ‘have everything to be happy and live for’.

If you feel like this for a period of time or even temporary, you’re not alone there is billions of ‘us’ like it. A problem shared is a problem halved. This isn’t something I will blog about again, but make sure you surround yourself by people who want the best for you and come only with good intentions.

Lots of laughs and loves Chantel x

Dating in 2017

Dating in 2017 is like a minefield but instead of explosives it’s full of dicks.

I’ve trialled and tested “dating” apps pretty well…from Tinder, POF, Bumble, Badoo. All of which you are judged from a picture and whatever upselling/shite you have put in your bio.

The best attempts of conversation (sarcastic undertone) I tend to see come from POF. For example lets say his name was Dave (as I can’t remember) messaged me saying “Hi I’m Dave, you seem nice, I’m a locksmith” Aye I gave him the time of day, looked on his profile, Dave was about 38 balding, 8stone overweight and being a locksmith seemed to be the only thing he had going for him given the condition of his bio/likes/interests. BUT he did have a really cute dog- upon deliberation this wasn’t enough to get me to message back. I know this seems harsh but in an environment where you are judged on the pictures and information you supply you have to accept what may follow. I handle it well – I just ignore them, I don’t shame no one (well not to them) Dave the locksmith however did supply many LOLs to me and my pal. 

I have been shamed on POF, I’m not even sad about it but I can’t understand why would an man in his early thirties go out of his way to tell me “your jeans are really unflattering”? Firstly mate your face is really unflattering but that’s a seperate issue, secondly your lucky the picture has me wearing jeans because they are covering a muffin top that is swelling daily, it’s a belly that carried whats turning out to be a giant for a 7 year old. ‘It’ has generally seen better days with the stretch marks to prove it. So chill out and leave me and my unflattering jeans to it, while you attempt to pull a bird on the Internet 9xs out of your league. 

Fucking Tinder where do I start? You match because you both think each other are ‘alright’ to look at and they are within your set distance of wanting to ‘date’ (shag it would appear). But it’s even more distressing when your own judgement leads to finding out in fact they are a massive bellend! Like who can you blame for that? Oh yeah yourself! Confirming what you already knew that your taste in men/women is utter shite. This leads me on to another ‘craze’ which is very popular with male Tinder users, the infamous dick pic…. lads lads lads!! NO girl wants a dick pic, like none of us. Do you know what happens when we get sent one? We show anyone and everyone who may want to see it, usually while laughing in pure shock/disgust. One of the last dudes (who knows might be reading) who sent me such offensive material (them wanking) which I must mention was after I was ignoring his messages (unconventional way to initiate further conversation)…that got shown around on a night out on someone’s leaving do from the office, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news I have no good feedback for you, apart from “it was too aggressive” and “his cock seems to be a funny shape”, blocked, goodbye.

I’m not sure how the transition of sending flowers to sending pictures of dicks happened? 

Dating for me is such double standards, I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket, but his better fucking be in one basket and that basket best be mine! None of this texting 6 other birds acting like you are Henry the 8th, it’s not cool, don’t do it. (but don’t worry we will still go out with you when you ask, text you back instantly, probably fall in love with you 🙄)

Dating how many people at one time is too many? Like should you just date one? Two? Five? I feel like I need to be told what is acceptable before it becomes “hoey”?! 

There is a reason I don’t put all my eggs in one basket this is because I need to assess the situations occurring. Be involved long enough so then I can go on catching the “feels” and be comfortable with the fact I don’t look a proper keeno also being happy knowing that I no doubtedly have now caught feelings for a class A tit (during this time I’d of seen a gazillion red flags but have carried on because I’m on a suicide mission in the minefield of dicks).  While leaving the ‘nice boy’ behind. 

I’m not saying normal/nice people don’t exist on these sites because they definitely do, I have conversed with a few, even gone out with a couple but the chances/ratios of you meeting them, liking their personality and them being your ‘happily ever after’ I reckon is around 2%. So the success rate isn’t favourable. 

Is dating in 2017 conventional anymore? I mean I can’t even pop into the local where I met the last two, one because they are now shut down, two because the other pubs I’m likely to pull a 18 year old which is 10 years too young, three because meeting lads in pubs has hardly worked out swimmingly so far for me. 

In the meantime of course I will be a sucker for punishment while continuing to have my eggs in a few baskets, all the while being plagued with the harrowing thought that “the one” for me is currently shagging someone else 😩🤣

I publish this on numerous platforms and would love to hear any dating horror stories, I’m open to advice but more than likely won’t listen – my mum tends to be the one persons who’s advice I always take on board, but even when it comes to “boys” I strongly ignore.

Lots of Love and Laughs x 

My first blog!

Intro to my blogging style

My first blog isn’t so much a blog more so of an introduction on to who i am and what i will blog about.

My name is Chantel i am 28, i am a single mum to the wonderful hard-work that is Harry, who will be 8 in December. I do unfortunately have to have a full time job which is for a Facilities Management company in Suffolk. On top of all of that I am actively making tragic attempts to date and get myself back on the market, undoubtedly something you will read about! I blog for fun in my spare time, simply because i feel some people could relate to my daily dilemmas and also because i quite fancy myself as being a bit funny (some may differ).

I have put out many “tasters” on my Facebook and other social networking platforms into the sort of blogger i will be. Truth be told i don’t know if i will be good or successful, but i do this for fun, this will be a place to note my thoughts on all sorts! From boys, dating, dieting, down too being a parent, and too share my funny/sad experiences of all of them, ones of which i’m certain many girls/boys men/women can relate to, and ones i hope that you will all find funny to read!

This week i am on annual leave trying to entertain Harry, who simply doesn’t want to be entertained! Are anyone else’s children such hermits? Don’t get me wrong how technology is advancing it is amazing, but i can’t ever imagine children this day and age just hoping on their bike and ‘knocking’ for their pals to come out to play, god forbid you was to bike all that way and they wasn’t home! We now have phones, computers, Facebook and all of the other stuff that exists that i probably don’t know about. This KID is glued to the Ipad far too often for his own good watching other people play computer games on YouTube…. i will never understand how this can provide more entertainment then me! Or even a day out or a simple trip to the park in the sunshine (when it is out). As parents we all have different parenting techniques and mine can be quite loose at times, as much as i moan about the Ipad i am the first to let him sit on it for longer than whats already frowned upon for a quiet life. I’d also like to think while writing this blog and others that may be reading i’m not the only parent to do so! Please don’t make me feel bad if i am, i can’t deal with the ‘mummy shaming’. What i have learnt with parenting everyday is a school day and i’m still learning nearly 8 years in.

It has been pissing it down all day here in Suffolk so we have achieved F all, a trip to Sainsbury’s is as far as me and the scruff that was my son who followed made it, wearing yesterdays dirty clothes and his bed head which he still had from last nights sleep overs at Dylans. We both went wearing socks and sandals also which i am not even ashamed by and added to the all round ‘vibe’ which we was already channeling. We brought loads of baking stuff, even though it was only yesterday i was putting out the feels on getting a personal trainer. I’m not a big girl but i have put on some timber as of late and can’t seem to reign myself in from eating an overload of ‘shit food’, my jeans are currently so tight in the thigh and intimate areas, i’m sure i will get thrush at any given point . As soon as we got in Harry deserted me in our afternoon of baking for the PlayStation (i don’t even compare to a PlayStation, that’s even more hurtful than a lad ditching you to go out with the ‘boys’). So i thought i would crack on without him and i baked “Oreo and Caramel brownies” and vowed only to eat the one slice with ice cream…. that never happened, i am currently laying on the sofa feeling sick while typing this! While the bottomless pit himself plows into the deliciousness that is a nugget meal from the Golden Arches (McDonalds).

The delicious over indulgent treat

The legend himself with all the things he likes today – this doesn’t include me
It’s 5:40 and i’m ready to hit the hay, it’s true what they say it is hard work doing nothing!

Hopefully i can bless you all with a more sufficient blog soon.

If any mummies have any tips for me to get my kid to like me a bit more it would be welcomed. Or quick and easy recipes to stop me going to the drive thru i will also welcome.

Lots of Laughs and Love Chantel x