- Listen to praise from anyone who wants to give you it. I’m especially thankful to the lady who stopped me in Tesco 8 days in to tell me I was doing a great job, and sorry I got a little teary.
- Don’t have too strict a birth plan. What will be will be, and midwives truly are amazing! they only want what is best for you and baby.
- You will poo in labour, and it’s ok. As mentioned above, midwives are amazing! Just apologise, especially if it smells.
- Tears, they will flow. Sad ones, happy ones, don’t know why they’re happening ones…let them out, you will feel better.
- Ask your mum friends anything, and I mean anything. They are the best for up to date advice and they will answer any question no matter how personal…believe me I have been there.
- When breastfeeding make sure you set up your station, biscuits and water are essential!
- Book in time alone. Except for 2 quick visits from my mum and Kyles dad, we had the first week to ourselves without visitors. This allowed us time to settle in at home as a family and get confident as parents.
- On the flip side of this, accept help if you need it. Especially from your partner, I’m lucky that Kyle is a hands on dad and we have a pretty chill baby..they entertain each other no end, and he’s not afraid to change a dirty nappy. I honestly cannot put into words how much I love the pair of them.
- Nappies, you can never have enough. Especially as milk is coming out as quickly as it’s going in during the early days. You will change what feels like 500 a day.
- Get ready to celebrate poo. We suffered a day of constipation, and got really happy when he managed to get one out…even though it was a mini poonami.
- Your baby, your rules. I don’t believe in holding a sleeping baby, or disturbing a sleeping baby. Along with kissing a baby, after having learnt what can happen…these are things I now enforce, even with family.
- Sleep when they sleep. I’m a massive hypocrite because I don’t do this, yet! But I will, starting this week I promise.
- As cliche as this is, make the most of every second. Babies really do change every day. I’m constantly surprised when I look back at pictures from the day he was born.
- Reach out to other mums, and don’t be alone. There are so many groups to visit or apps to download if you just want to chat. There is always someone awake to talk to.
- Say thank you and tell people you love them. It seems so simple, but like we appreciate being made to feel good, it’s nice to return the favour.
- Most important of all, do not look at your vagina! Leave it to the professionals, especially if you want to sleep again without nightmares. Use those large maternity pads as long as possible, they make look ugly but it's like sitting on a cloud.
Monday, 1 July 2019
Wednesday, 16 May 2018
Thursday, 19 April 2018
No Direction Home.
Co-written with David Tysall
Co-written with David Tysall
On the night of Monday 16th April 2018 we gave up our luxuries and slept rough for the night to raise funds to fight local homelessness and poverty. This amazing event is part of CEO Sleepout, a charity that challenges business leaders to sleep rough for a night to help make York a fairer place to live and work.
I’m sure by now most of you have seen the above sign off on the bottom of our emails, and with the fantastic support of our friends, family, suppliers and clients we have so far managed to raise over £2,100. (please do feel free to keep donating on our Just Giving page). So, we thought it was only fair that we shed a little light on our experience.
Nervous excitement was a shared feeling amongst the four of us as we made our way to York Racecourse with our sleeping bags, cardboard and tooth brushes. We had no idea what to expect, but I was grateful to have my Response family by my side.
Being the most organised of the group, Clare had handily packed a huge ground sheet and 12 sleeping bags. To be honest our pitch looked like a family camping trip…minus the tent of course, and it wasn’t long until other sleepers claimed their spaces around us and donned their pink Response wool hats. We of course had brought one for everyone participating to wear that night.
A couple of hours of chatter were followed by talks from Changing Lives, Jen (an inspiring lady who has turned her life around amazingly since living on the streets) and our favourite ladies Jo and Mary from Chill In The Community. Each person reminded us why we were there and how important it is that each of us take every opportunity to help.
As we settled down for the night and the outside lights were turned off, the chatter died down and we were left with the fight for sleep and struggle for warmth. We encountered wind, rain, discomfort and had little over 4 hours sleep each.
We went through one night of what others are experiencing on a day to day basis and it was awful. I don’t think anyone can fully appreciate the loneliness, isolation and frustrations that come with homelessness. Or the worry that comes with being one pay packet away from finding yourself without a home and on the streets.
We woke up feeling disorientated and lonely, but we had somewhere to be that day, a purpose. We knew that in an hour we would be back to our loving families, a hot shower and some breakfast
Of course we are not saying that we know how the homeless feel after one night, but we had a taste and we did not like it.
Would I do it again? Absolutely, Would the rest of the crew? They are saying no, but we are a tight knit little gang here.
When people criticise the homeless for alcohol problems, drug problems and the like, it is missing the point. The problem needs to be dealt with earlier, mental health is a huge problem. So the homeless find a way of numbing the pain, the loneliness and the disconnection. Before being so quick to judge, just think, any of us with three bad moves could end up in the same place.
I was forced to leave home at 15, and for some reason the song I listened to that got me through an awful time was Bob Dylan’s Like A Rolling Stone. The lyric in particular?
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.
Tuesday, 20 March 2018
Thursday, 8 February 2018
I’m just a girl…..
A recent episode of Peaky Blinders got me thinking, what has changed for women in the last century? Resulting in an interesting conversation with my mum, who’s not that old by the way, but knows a thing or two thanks to my nana and her gran.
I mean, imagine not being able to go to the pub alone and having to make sure you were escorted by your husband. I know myself and the girls in the office would find this impossible, we’re partial to a bottle of fizz on a Friday! Mind you some of the bars in York could adopt this policy on a weekend, that would reduce the massive onslaught of hen parties in our favourite establishments.
Another issue, just think not being able to get a credit card unless you were married and your husband was willing to co-sign. This I think is ridiculous! Especially, when you combine it with the fact that most men waned their wives to stay at home. How were they supposed to do the weekly shop with no credit card? Pay the bills down the post office? Talk about contradiction.
We all know about the voting situation, so I won’t go into too much detail. But we all should take the opportunities that we’re offered when it comes to voting, otherwise surely the suffragette movement was a waste of time.
Something which is still the same but not as openly advertised is differentiation in salaries. At least way back when they had the balls to say if you work here as a man you’ll get paid way more than a woman doing the same job. Now, you only hear about these things if someone walks out of a job over gender pay. I don’t really understand how this is legal, or who gets to determine why said man is worth more than said women…salary should be determined on role, and ability, not what sex you are.
I’m lucky enough to work in a place where “-isms” don’t matter. Nothing is about age, race or gender, we simply just roll with who has the best idea.
“Why do women have smaller feet than men….so they can get closer to the sink”
Thursday, 18 January 2018
I’m not a vegan, I enjoy sausage and mash as much as the next person, but I do choose to use cruelty free products and find myself forever checking if my favourite moisturiser is on the approved list. We must save those rabbits after all.
This obsession stemmed from watching a video online, where a poor young girl was subjected to the same tests lab rats go through just to see if your favourite mascara is going to turn your eyelashes the correct shade of blue.
Cruelty free products are a favourite of mine, but I would never introduce myself in the following way, “Hi, my names Carrie and I believe in cruelty free”. As I’m a firm believer in the fact that everyone can make their own decisions, have an opinion or sit on the fence if they want to.
We stereotype and categorise, but that man with the nose ring and an arm full of tattoos could be the best doctor we’ve ever known. We eat organically because we’re told that processed food will cause cancer. But in the future, we’ll probably be told that eating clean causes cancer too.
Buying a hybrid car so we look like we’re saving the environment, but taking an opportunity to switch to petrol to gain some speed and sound like a “bad boy” racer on the motorway.
Sitting on the fence is the inability to choose between two sides, or a lack of courage to decide. I mean most people have no issue supporting their favourite football team, but struggle in reference to political discussions.
Striving for knowledge for a better understanding of a situation. But does that just make it more confusing?
I was once told that only truly intelligent people can see both sides of an argument. You don’t have to agree, you just have to see the other point of view.
In light of this I’m in agreement with Tim Minchin, who once sang,
“You can’t see which grass is greener. Chances are it’s neither, and either way it’s easier to see the difference, when you’re sitting on the fence”
Wednesday, 3 January 2018
I’ve never had to share a bath with a sibling, or use second hand bath water with the concern that it contained a little more than the days dirt. I’ve never not had central heating or a hot a shower, apart from the one winter when the boiler broke, but that’s a different story.
I don’t remember black and white TV and I’ve always had a remote to save myself from getting up and changing the channel using the huge buttons on the side of the TV that I’ve heard so much about. There’s always been over 600 channels to choose from, and Netflix on weekends.
So, in an age when life is documented on social media, I often find myself aimlessly scrolling through Facebook and Instagram and wondering are the people I follow truly happy?
The latest gym selfie, a night out with the best people which resulted in a bad head and an empty wallet, ever changing relationship status’ and pictures of the worlds cutest dog fill my screen and are seen as representations of a perfect life.
But was life not more perfect when families spent time together, with their heads up looking at each other and talking, instead of down, looking at a phone and telling the world what they’re having for dinner? Playing outside, not on an Xbox? Talking, not tweeting?
When did it become normal for kids to watch videos of other children opening presents? Where’s the excitement in an ever-growing impatience to watch their favourite TV show at any time thanks to the presence of OnDemand? I remember eagerly awaiting The Queens Nose at 4.30 followed by Biker Grove at 5. If something wasn’t in the TV Guide you weren’t watching it, simple.
Am I guilty of sharing too much on my Instagram? Probably. Would I rather have had the chance to be the first in that week’s bath water? Should there still only be 4 TV channels, rather than 600? Would that simple life be better than an unrealistic version of perfect?
We do some work with Age UK, and I recently heard about their new scheme where they ask for volunteers to call or visit an elderly person once a week. Such a simple yet great idea I thought. Not only does it provide somebody with comfort and company, it gives us a chance to see a person without the use of social media and bring someone a small moment of true happiness. It’s things like this that should be documented on media.
Though I was nervous about suggesting this idea to my colleagues, I needn’t have worried…we’ve got a new activity to keep us busy next year.
To quote The Smiths,
“It’s easy to laugh, it’s easy to hate. It takes strength to be gentle and kind”