Wednesday 21st September Morning

It 9:30am in the morning, and I have been up for hours. I feel like I have been dragged through a hedge backwards and the thought of sitting down would be a dream.

I spent the night being woken up every hour. The small child felt the need to shout me several times to tell me useful facts that my life depended on, such as "teddy ate a chip" "my lego is purple glitter". You know all the vital information you need at 2am from your 4 year old. And if it wasn't the small child it was the boyfriend, turning the fucking light on because his pillows weren't quite right or banging his was to the bathroom with added noise effects when he walks into the wardrobe that's been there for the past 86442974297 years.

After finally drifting off into a blissful sleep I was woken by the shouting of my name, because we don't know how to work the toaster. YES, the fucking toaster, with one button you press down and taa darrr toast! By the time we had a lesson on toast making the entire fucking house was up and chaos descended.

The dog (AKA Satan) spent the morning tearing up my favourite pillow off the sofa when my back was turned, the small child decided that her bed would look much better with glitter being poured EVERYFUCKINGWHERE.

By the time we had establish that the cushion was my fucking cushion and not the dogs chew toy. Glitter does not belong on the bed but in fact in the container unless mummy decides other whys. It was 8:41 SHIT we have 4 minutes to get to school. Oh no we won't, because we have been parked in by the boyfriend who has conveniently taken the car key to work. Because there is nothing more masculating than carrying your fucking car key around for the car you have left at home!

So after turning the house upside down in the hunt of the spare key, when all hope was almost lost. Mummy found the spare car key in the bastard bathroom, because that's fucking logical. Since we were running late due to the husbands stupidity we decided to take his pride an joy on the school run, sticky fingers and all *Mummy sniggers*. Isn't karma a bitch.

Amen to peace and tranquillity for the rest of the day.

Fitness; Do's, Dont's & Doughnuts

Okay, so I'm one of them freaks that love nothing more than working out. I love the burn, I love the sweat and after all exercise is proven to release hormones to make you feel good so what's not to love. But its taken me ALOT of tears, binge eating and pressure for me to get where I am today with my body. And I still have them days where even the idea of going to the gym makes me want to eat 8 packets of crisps, 3 chocolate bars, a Chinese, 2 litres of coke and anything else I can get my hands on, but hey I'm human.

Everywhere we look there is a perfectly sculpted toned model; Facebook, Instagram, Magazines, Twitter, FUCKING EVERYWHERE, so no wonder we feel the pressure to look good! And let me tell you   after childbirth your body does not bounce back like it used to,
I mean its taken me almost 4 years to get control of my bladder again, let alone the flabby tummy and love handles. But once in a while I have to remind myself how far I have come, and that it's okay that I don't have perfectly chiselled abs or an ass the size of Kimmy K because lets be honest how dull would it be if we all looked the same.

Here and my do's, don't and doughnuts that I have learnt on my journey.

Do, look around more than one gym. Originally I joined a gym because it was close to work, I went once a week if I was lucky and I hated it. After about 6 months I eventually decided to look elsewhere, I now save myself £40.00 a month and go 5 times a week, who knew!
Do go to as many classes as you can, I only recently lost my gym class virginity and I'm addicted. I often find I get much more out of a class than working out on my own, mainly because someone is shouting at me but I love it.
Do eat healthy, working out alone won't get you in shape. It's really important that you eat healthy as well, and drink plenty of water. 

Don't be afraid to ask for help, when I began going to current gym I just used the same machines again and again because I was too scared to ask for help.
Don't be afraid to sweat. I used to go to the gym and leave the moment I began to sweat but now I'm the opposite I'm obsessed with sweating because it shows me what a good workout I have done and I love that sense of achievement.
Don't expect too much, your body isn't going to change overnight, and that's okay, it takes time.

Doughnuts, not so healthy right? WRONG. 
Eating one doughnut is not the end of the world. It's all about balance, I personally try (I use the word try loosely) to follow the 80:20 rule, 80% of the time I eat healthy and 20% of the time I eat whatever the fuck I fancy. I personally hate the word diet because lets be honest it just immediately makes you think of hunger and lettuce. Healthy food isn't all drab and tasteless I'm constantly online looking for new recipes to mix it up and I love it, but equally one chocolate bar will not kill me. It's all about balance, too many people get absorbed into there diets or healthy eating making unrealistic goals, so remember balance, if you want that doughnut eat that doughnut.

Hannah x

Sunday 21st August

It's 14:00 Sunday afternoon and I have lost the will to live. The dreaded XBOX has been on all morning which has resulted in our house sounding like World War III is taking place in the front room with added shouting thrown in just for effect; because as we all know shouting at the TV is an effective way to ensure victory in all situations!

The house has been hoovered and the dust taken care of so all is not lost, if it were not for the bastard dog (AKA Satan) who is currently malting/ shredding enough hair to produce enough jumpers for a small army. Yesterday the hair loss took to a whole new extreme with the house been hoovered three times before I eventually said blow it and focused my attention to drinking as much wine as physically possible before crawling to bed. 

This all being said the small child has gone for a trip to the seaside for the day, so I get to enjoy a day with minimal tantrums, minimal toys littering the house and minimal answering back to everything I say! That is until her return at tea time where I can guarantee a plate of gold with a sprinkling of diamonds will be unsatisfactory because mummy just always makes the wrong bloody food for our little munchkin.

So all of this aside it's not quite the relaxing mummy time Sunday I had in mind, but I have managed to smuggle in a bottle of prosecco and a bar of dairy milk into the house so all is not lost! And let me tell you after this week, I need a drink!

Happy Sunday!
© Hannah Philipson
Maira Gall