It's been a while

I've just checked the date of my last blog and it was the 6th January, how is that possible? This year seems to have flown by in the blink of an eye. A lot has happened since that post, Zak has turned 5 (he had a awesome Marvel themed birthday party with all his friends) he's completed his reception year at school and has gone back again for year 1. We've celebrated Theo's second birthday and he's moved up a class at nursery to the toddler room aka Tigers. I've studied and sat my land law exam for my Cilex qualification, I've received my results and I passed with 83% and a distinction - WAHOO. We've grown the Brake family with the addition of another cat - a kitten named Arlo. Oh and we overhauled our garden during the summer - I've realised I'm actually quite green fingered.

So all in all we've been pretty busy.

Future plans?
1. Study and sit my conveyancing exam in January - nb must remember to book my exam
2. Stop the kitten from ruining all my house plants and try to get the older cat to at least like him a little bit


That's all I have room for in my brain at the moment, did I mention I turn 30 in February. Jesus Christ.

Zakary and Captain America at his 5th Birthday

Theo loves his trampoline - his present for his 2nd Birthday

The boys have loved having daddy at home for a few weeks - this was a Sealife in Weymouth

The Brakes

Starting Again! My Cilex Journey

I've been talking about it for ages, mulling it over, asking opinions, delaying, thinking a bit more, looking online, talking it over again, delaying a bit more. But....I've decided finally, enough is enough. I've taken the plunge and signed up for another year of Cilex studying. For those of you that don't know, Cilex stands for The Chartered Institute of Legal Executives. In short i'm studying to (hopefully) and eventually become a Chartered Legal Executive aka Lawyer.

I started almost 3 years but for many reasons I only completed my first year before taking time out for maternity leave. I wish now that I'd just got on with it and completed the last 5 units I need to do in order to finish the first half of the qualification, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. And saying that, I really don't know if I could have managed it with a newborn and a 3 year old running around. Guess I'll never know. Now they're both a little older I'm hoping I'll have more time to dedicate - no sorry - "magic out of thin air" for studying.

God knows how I'm going to manage this, seriously, I think I've lost the plot but it needs to be done. I'm a perfectionist by nature and I'm completely self critical, I want everything done now and I hate having to wait. Accepting I'm in this for the long haul is the hardest thing, and trying to convince myself anything but a fail is acceptable, when we all know really I'll only be happy with a distinction at the least.

So bring it on, Land Law and Conveyanacing are calling my name - they sound riveting I KNOW, it's going to be a long hard road but hopefully I'll get there.

"Even a tiny step is one step closer to where you are going" - Ron Kaufman

We made slime!

Zak has never really been into messy play, he's always needed quite a lot of persuasion. But he absolutely loved this and it is so easy to make! Roughly 2 parts cornflower to 1 part water. Chuck a little food colouring in and you can turn it any colour you want.

Its hard to describe but its just so much fun to play with, depending on the pressure you apply the slime will change from a solid to a liquid. It kept Zak entertained for over an hour - this is some sort of record in our house and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Oh its super easy to clean up too! If you leave it to dry, it sweeps up like a powder! Honestly give it a go! I loved it almost as much as Zak did.....

The all boy club

I don't know what it is about being a mother of all boys, but quite regularly I feel like I'm part of some special secret club. The club which only mothers of all boys are part of. Sometimes I see other 'all boy' mums when we're out and I look at them, and I feel some sort of connection, I know where they're coming from. Having all boys is a special kind of something.

When I was pregnant with the boys we didn't find out their sex, we were team 'yellow' as the birth clubs have nicknamed it. Having said that I was adamant both times we were having boys; maybe it's because my husband is one of two boys or maybe it was mother's instinct, I'm not really sure, but I just knew. I always knew I would have two boys.

I definitely feel like there is a huge amount of social pressure on family's to have both gender children. There is this obsession with having 'one of each' and that it equates to the perfect family. I've even managed to come up with a general scale of gender desirability (based on the 2:4 family and the general comments I've had aimed at our family so far); at the top you have one of each, girl/boy, boy/girl its what most people seem to want, then you have two girls and then you have two boys. It seems to me as if boys are labelled as difficult, unruly, disobedient and lazy, whilst girls are portrayed as more intelligent, tidier, politer and generally more pleasant to be around. It makes me really sad and actually pretty defensive when people make comments on the fact I have two boys;

"oh rather you than me"
"gosh I couldn't have coped with two boys"
"I never wanted boys personally"
"Boys are pretty full on aren't they"

I mean seriously, I obviously don't have a chance having two of the buggers. What happens if we have another and shock horror it's another boy! OMG surely we'd never survive. 3 boys!!! I actually follow someone on Instagram with 5 - yes 5 boys!! And you know what, they look a very happy and well rounded family.

Someone actually once said to me when I was pregnant with Zakary that "it didn't matter if the baby was a boy, but a girl would be nicer" and after Theo was born I think it took a few days before someone asked if we were going to try again for a girl - yes that's exactly what I'm thinking about after having major abdominal surgery.

As a society some of us seem to have missed the most important point. Our children are healthy and happy, their gender does not define them and it most definitely is not the first thing we should be concerned about. In an age where more and more couples are relying on assisted fertility to help them achieve their dreams we really should learn to be less shallow and a little more appreciative. I for one am very aware that my two little boys (who are very much loved and adored) are something some couples would dream of having in their lives. Children are such a blessing regardless of their gender.

I wouldn't change mine for the world.

The first ever picture of the boys together

Two mini teenagers?

I'm not quite sure when it happened but I seem to have acquired two teenagers seemingly overnight.

Please correct me if I'm wrong but I am (almost definitely) 100% sure that my boys are 4.5 years and 16 months. However, the behaviour I have encountered from both of them over the last few weeks, makes me seriously question the above fact. I am really hoping I am not alone; (although at the same time I wouldn't wish the stress on any parent) in feeling that I've lost my once lovely children and they've somehow been replaced with two identical looking mini monsters.

My once sweet, innocent and polite Zakary, has recently told me among other things that he;

"wants a new mummy"       "doesn't want to be my friend anymore"       "doesn't love me anymore"

These along with his general stroppiness, rudeness and bad attitude is making me question where I've gone wrong with him!

I can't even remember what he was crying about here!

Whilst Theo is a typical toddler and thinks the world is ending if he drops his blueberries or if mummy should dare make him get dressed and wipe his face! OH LORD that child can throw a strop to rival any diva and his screech resembles a banshee.

What do you mean I have to wear trousers!

To top it off he copies his brother to the nth degree and thinks Zak is quite literally the dogs bollocks. If Zak jumps on the sofa, Theo does, if Zak rolls on the floor, Theo does, if Zak is playing with something, Theo wants to join in. He adores his big bro! Whilst Zak finds Theo somewhat of a nuisance.

All of this combined, with the shrieking and screaming, cries of displeasure when something doesn't go there way and endless cries of "Mummmmmyyyyy" leads me to loose my shit ALOT. Quite honestly my neighbours must wonder what the friggin hell is going on in our house 90% of the time.

I sometimes wonder how i'll ever make it through the next 18 years, but then I remember it won't all be like this. Or at least hopefully it wont! Surely the real teenager years will be easier - she says whilst rolling her eyes and chugging on her large glass of wine!

Who am I kidding.

My nexplanon implant saga

After I had Theo I decided it was time to go for a slightly longer term method of contraception, we are not planning anymore children at the moment and to be honest I was getting a little lax with taking my pill everyday - oopps! After having a little look around I decided the implant was for me, I knew a few people who have had them and they (on the whole) were very happy with it. So off I went and booked the insertion! I was a little nervous but I was reassured that after the local had been put in I wouldn't feel a thing. Yes that bit stung quite a bit, but it all went down hill after that! As soon as she put the implant in I was convinced something wasn't quite right. for a start the insertion hurt! And not only that but it hurt quite high up my arm, after the nurse said I needed to feel the implant to make sure I knew it was in there (as if the pain wasn't a good indicator!) Needless to say, I found it very difficult to feel - even she did. She said something about it being swollen and that after that had gone done it should be easier. She patched me up and sent me on my way. About an hour after the pain in my arm was pretty bad, I found myself taking paracetamol and ibuprofen to dull the throbbing and the bruise was quite frankly horrific straightaway. I looked like a hardcore junkie, it was awful. Thinking back alarm bells should have rung then, but the nurse had said it would bruise so I just got on with it.

Fast forward a few weeks (about 4) and the bruising was finally starting to disperse, but guess what I still couldn't feel the damn implant. Not only that but the insertion sight was very tender and I had itching around the site. So I book a telephone appointment and the nurse says to be on the safe side come in and have it checked. So off I go, the nurse who seen me was different to the one who had inserted it - she can't feel it either! She goes and gets the nurse who inserted it, she has a good prod around (which bloody hurt) and says oh yes I can feel it but its a little deep. No worries. Yep easy for her to say! I mention the tenderness and the itching and she says - its healing - don't worry! I ask if removal will be difficult owing to the deep insertion, she replies, it shouldn't but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm not going to lie, she didn't fill me with much confidence, I went home and did a little research and came to the conclusion it had been fitted wrongly.

It wasn't long after this I started getting a lot of random bleeding and quite frankly i'd had enough, I wanted it out. It was still slightly tender to touch and I just wanted the damn thing out! Back I go to the doctors, they try and convince me to keep the thing; I say no, they tell me to take the pill alongside the implant- um no thanks I'm not double dosing on hormones! I insist on having it removed and again I mention the deep insertion but she doesn't seem worried! I have to book another app for the removal, oh and another app to get the pill re-prescribed (by now I've had a lot of apps over this friggin thing). The day comes to have it removed - I'm bricking it, I know its in deep. Oh joy, its the insertion nurse! She pushes and prods around on my arm, she's tutting, I'm starting to feel ill from the rough palpitation on my arm, she asks who put this in. I reply - you did! Cue the nurse looking very sheepish, and finally admitting she can't take it out, it's in too deep! ARRGHHHH had I not said this several times already. Nurse tells me I have to go to a specialist clinic to have it removed and the waiting list is long. Brilliant. Just what I want to hear.

Thankfully around 3 weeks later I get a phone call and I'm offered an appointment 2 days later, I was shocked! Turns out the insertion nurse has made an urgent referral to get it removed! Off I go to this clinic and meet this rather lovely lady doctor who tells me she's an expert; exactly what I need. She feels my arm and tells me, it's in pretty deep but as she can feel one end she thinks she can get it out, if I'm happy for her to try, if not I'll be added to a list and have to have it done in hospital. I just want the thing out so I ask her to try. I won't go into the details of the removal, it wasn't painful in the slightest but it wasn't enjoyable, mainly for the poor doctor who was sweating by the time she'd yanked it from my muscle (with the help of another lovely lady doctor) after my muscle had started to grow fibres around the implant. I just about managed to get away without proper stitches and instead had several sterry strips put on and a large plaster. The doctor was very apologetic for being rough but honestly I didn't feel a thing, the local anaesthetic definitely did the job! She went on to say that if I hadn't had pushed to have it removed then in 3 years time when it was due for removal there's no way she would have got it out, I would have had to have it removed in hospital and would have been sporting a sizable scar. Turns out the nurse had inserted the implant far too high in my arm (14cms from my elbow when it should be 8-10cms) and also it had been inserted incorrectly! I now have the offending implant in a little bottle and I've brought it home to show the hubby exactly what I've been through! I honestly cannot thank the doctor enough, she was lovely as was her colleague, they put me at ease and I felt no pain, I wasn't rushed out of the door and I honestly felt they provided amazing care.

So, if you decide to have one fitted - honestly its an amazing form of contraception which unfortunately I've well and truly been put off of, don't be fobbed off if your not happy. Signs that its been fitted wrongly are; severe bruising after insertion, difficultly in palpating the implant and long-term tenderness. The doctor said its much easier to remove a badly inserted implant soon after insertion than it is years down the line when scar tissue has formed around the implant itself.

I am so glad that I pushed for the removal.

I'm only 1 day post removal but honestly it's not painful at all today, I was expecting my arm to be awful like it was when I had it put in but its not at all! I will try and remember to upload a photo after the dressing has come off and its healing

Photo taken day of removal

Day after removal

2 Days! Hardly any bruising

2 Weeks post removal - no bruising at all

Its a 24/7 kind of job

Before I had Zak, I worked fulltime, 9-5, Monday to Friday. At the time I thought that was a lot.

God was I wrong.

I was working 37 (at a push) 40 hours per week. I would come home, put my feet up, go to the gym, go for dinner, all without having to worry about anything or anyone. I even used to get the whole weekend to myself!! I could have a lie in on a Sunday morning!! I could do what I wanted when I wanted.

I definitely was not grateful enough of all of these things before Zak arrived. Without a doubt the most drastic change in your life when you become a parent is the sudden lack of 'time off.'

Overnight everything changed and I was required 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Quite frankly it made my poxy fulltime job look like a walk in the friggin park. I really started to question why on earth people signed up for this job? I mean, firstly there's no pay seriously £0, nothing. Secondly, there's no holiday - wtf! Thirdly, you are required to work all day and be on call ALL night. Something which if you're lucky tails off after a few months (if your not so lucky could last years) but when you're least expecting it will pop up randomly at 2.48am, 3.21am, 4.04am & 5.45am. A parents work is never done. I think you naturally get used to over time, at some point it just becomes the norm, you learn to cope with it and you instinctively put someone else before you.

However, there is one occasion where this just all goes out the window and something I've yet to find an answer for; when the parent is sick. When you really feel like shite. There's no calling in ill, "sorry kids, mummy isn't feeling too good, you're going to have to go it alone today"

Pffft! ain't going to happen.

I was hit with an unfortunate bout of food poisoning at the beginning of this week. To say I felt horrific would probably be pretty spot on. One thing was for sure, I was in no fit state to look after the kids, there was no way I was able to leave the house to do the school run and the thought of dealing with my boisterous 1 year old for more than 5 minutes left me wanting to curl into the foetal position and pretend I didn't exist. I'm so fortunate that Andy was able to take the day off and deal with everything for me that first day, I really don't know how I would have got through the day on my own. It was the first time in a long time that I remembered how full on being a parent is.

Lots of people refer to being a parent as a 24/7 job, and it is, it's just that. It's rewarding, challenging, testing, intriguing, emotional and tiring. And I love my job as the boys mother, it's the best job I've ever done. But. Maybe sometimes it would be nice to clock off, take a step back and have a breather, because more than anything parenting is completely relentless.

It's a job for a lifetime.