Chubby gals are for life, not just for winter

I hear you. What the bloody hell is she on about? Let me give some context …

So, I’m the first to admit … I ain’t no Beyoncé. But, I also don’t believe you’d struggle to differentiate between me and Shrek, so it’s not all bad.

About a week ago, myself and Tom decided that we were DONE with our current lifestyle choice. We’ve both put on a couple of lockdown “pounds” (stones, pounds … what’s the difference right?) and we have not been giving any thought at all to what we’re shovelling in, especially of an evening when we’re sat watching tele. So, we decided to really start taking our health seriously and began calorie counting.

We’re in The Jason Manford Weight loss support group on Facebook and I’ve been getting so many amazing ideas from there. We’ve actually really enjoyed calorie counting this week and already, we both feel better. Or at least, I did until yesterday afternoon.

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Everything happens for a reason…

I’m not quite sure why I’ve chosen now to write this post. Well, that’s a lie. It is partially because I now have Noah so I can write this with a clear mind in a way that will bring comfort, hope and an aspect of realness (I hope) that others may be searching for. If I’d have written this at the time, it wouldn’t have made for very pleasant reading. I was a mess, I’ll be honest.

I also think it has something to do with conversations I’m having with The Divorced Dad (We’ll call him Dave, mainly because I’ve been listening to “The Twelve Daves of Christmas” on Absolute Radio and it’s obviously had an impact.)

Where to start? “At the beginning” I hear you say. Well of course. So,

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And so it begins,

Well, I actually owe the birth of this blog to a new online friend, The Divorced Dad. He has a blog page himself and encourages his members to share their voices. He then shares these anonymously on his page for all to see.

I’ve offered up a couple of posts and the reception has been incredible. I then realised how much I loved writing and not having to worry about who would see it. Nobody knew it was me. I could be true, raw, honest and not think “oh what if the Perfect Parent Brigade see it and then start offering up their opinion on the fact that I said the baby is close to going in the bin” Yeah, he’s being a troll. So shoot me for wanting a break!

Continue reading “And so it begins,”