To appease the identity crisis, I have been facing lately in the weeks since the birth of my son, I thought it would be a good opportunity to write down everything that I know about me. Forgive me if this seems absurd or just plain boring, but I want to know who I am, what makes me tick because I have already forgotten. I rarely have time to think about my own bowel movements these days never mind what I’m passionate about, my ambitions, hopes, dreams etc. And to be honest what do I even like anymore!

I suppose it is also a good chance for anyone reading this to know and understand me better so please bear with me and don’t judge some of the scandalous things I may write – I jest, my life is so boring, but there may be some surprises to you and me!

  • I was born on the 25th February.
  • I’m 24
  • I am a mum – I imagine that is fairly obvious but, I have a daughter named Ella who is 4 and a son Arlo who is 6 weeks and 3 days old.
  • I was a teen mum, just – 19 years, 11 months and 14 days to be exact.
  • I am a post-natal depression sufferer and more importantly survivor.
  • I’m overweight and have bad body image.
  • I hate my own company and I hate being alone.
  • I love stationery, if you ever walk past a Paperchase with me – hold me back you’ll never get me out.
  • I swear like an old fish wife and I fucking love it. (Sorry if you’re offended but it makes me feel better!)
  • People not from the North can’t understand me and my Yorkshire accent, which is hilarious because I was born in Eastbourne, East Sussex.
  • I am the youngest of four siblings and the only girl, yes that’s right 3 older brothers. But it’s alright because I’m the favourite.
  • I have a catalogue addiction, I will buy ANYTHING from a catalogue.
  • I shout. A lot.
  • I like rosé wine… by the bottle. After two bottles, I need to go to bed before I pray to the porcelain Buddha.
  • If I’ve taken my bra off, I’m not going out. Don’t invite me anywhere, I can’t come sorry my boobs have been given their freedom now – I can’t take that away from them.
  • My gut instinct is nearly always right, in fact I sometimes compare myself to Mystic Meg.
  • I think about dieting nearly every day, I’m all or nothing. All of the snacks or none. But a life without doughnuts is no life at all in my opinion.
  • I met my fiancé when I was 16 years old, love at first sight for me. Shame it took four years of stalking for him to feel the same way, cringe.
  • He did give me two Lyle and Scott t-shirts and sprayed them with aftershave and I treasured these for YEARS. Bigger cringe. So 2009.
  • I worked as a carer for nearly five years and I loved it, but I found the hours too hard after juggling mum life and work life for 2 years.
  • I don’t often tell people how I really feel but when I do, my God you’ll know about it.
  • Arctic Monkeys are my favourite band, of all time! I have been lucky enough to see them loads of times.
  • I am slightly in love with Matt Helders
  • Do me a favour is my favourite Arctic Monkeys song ever ever ever – and yes I cry nearly every time.
  • I love naps. I could nap all day every day. Naps are so much more appreciated when you have kids.
  • I got a place at the Fashion Retail Academy when I was 17 but couldn’t find ANYWHERE to live so I couldn’t go and I cried for weeks. I dropped out of Sixth Form for that too so no A Levels.
  • I used to work at a call centre for Yell and in the year I worked there said: “Hi, It’s Emily from the Yellow Pages…” approximately 25,000 times. No joke, I worked that out during one boring shift.
  • I’ve had four jobs in my life, they have all been totally different and the majority of them were a bit shit.
  • Pornstar Martinis are my favourite cocktail. Anything that comes with a shot is ideal.
  • I have the worst mood swings, I can go from sassy to sadistic in about 4.7 seconds.
  • I’ve moved house 5 times in 5 years and every time I kick off and say “I’M NOT MOVING EVER AGAIN!” But then I see a new house and think yesssss let’s do it.
  • On the rare evenings, my kids go to bed on time and my house is quiet, I like to watch Sprinkle of Glitter and Brummy Mummy’s youtube videos on my telly because I love them so much and pretend they’re my friends. Not even sorry, they are both AMAZING.
  • I used to take Ella to Pets at Home to see the rabbits but we had to stop going once she realised you could buy them and take them home, mean mummy.
  • I don’t care how pathetic this sounds… I LOVE green bin day! Every other Tuesday I feel so optimistic and excited about all the crap I can throw away.
  • I make the best poached eggs. If it’s not runny in the middle it goes in the fucking bin.
  • If you fart in my presence I will laugh uncontrollably. I blame growing up with 3 brothers.
  • I don’t care what I end up doing in life as long as I am as successful as I can be.
  • If I’m having a tough time I will throw myself into my work and work even harder than normal to get over whatever is bothering me.
  • I need a holiday, I haven’t been on one since I went on a girl’s 18-30’s holiday to Malia 4 years ago, where I got really drunk every night and cried on the phone to Rich.
  • I’m terrible with money. I can’t budget, I can’t save. If I want it I will have it.
  • I love Stevie Wonder and Billy Joel.
  • I get serious FOMO alllllllllll the time. (Fear of missing out –  if you were unsure…)
  • When I was 18 me and my friend got a flat together and we lived there for a year, it was SHAMAZINGGGGGG… until I got knocked up and moved back to my parent’s house and sobbed.
  • The birth of both my kids were the greatest experiences of my life and the biggest highs, which makes me realise that actually even thought it can be pretty shit. These two little humans have made me who I am. So here is a picture of them and my most recent picture. To show that all the aforementioned points make me who I am. Amen!

So yeah, happy Thursday. Cheers!


Just a mum…

So, I’ve thought long and hard about writing this post. As you may know, I gave birth to my baby boy just shy of five weeks ago and it couldn’t have gone any smoother. The sense of achievement I have felt after the birth of both of my children is astounding! It’s so cliché because everyone says boring shit like that, but it is so true.


This being said, now we have settled into life as a four and I have come back down to earth from my happy little rest on cloud nine and well, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m feeling a little lost. Which I don’t understand. I had such a traumatic time after the birth of my daughter. Parenthood hit me like a tonne of bricks and I was totally unprepared. Unprepared for the exhaustion, unprepared for the loneliness, unprepared for losing my social life almost entirely and unprepared for the little person that would entirely depend on me round the clock for the rest of my days. I was just so young and naïve. But why have some of those feelings crept back into my mind?

More than enough

I’m not 19 years old anymore, I no longer live with my parents after returning to live with them and losing all of my independence, I don’t have the terrors of being a first time mum on my shoulders, I get plenty of sleep in comparison, basically I feel like I’ve got my shit together.

Taking all the above into consideration, why did I spend a whole day in my bed sobbing last week! Uncontrollable, inconsolable, pathetic tears just came over me and would not stop. Was it just hormones? Was it more than that? Who knows. I’m pretty sure my partner Rich had absolutely no idea what to say to me. He told me I was being ridiculous and that I’m a great mum to which I just blurted out ‘But I’m JUST a mum!’


One of the biggest things I have struggled with when having both of my children is losing my identity, though I love being a mum and of course adore my children I have always found it difficult adjusting to life with a tiny human totally dependent on you to support their every need. I don’t find the practicalities of parenting difficult, but rather mentally adjusting to the monotony that comes with day to day life with a new-born. I’ve always worked and worked bloody hard. I’ve worked around the clock day in day out and when my life has occasionally dealt me a bad hand – I’ve used my job as an escape. So, as you can imagine, sitting around in my dressing gown day in day out watching Jeremy Kyle, This Morning AND Loose Women was a MASSIVE shock to the system.


These changes have left me asking the same questions:

Who am I?

Am I just a mum?

When you have a baby does your identity just disappear?

Will the real me every come back?

Do I even know who that is anymore?

And here’s the big one … What the hell am I supposed to be doing with my life?

Followed by – Stop being a dick Emily for fucks sake!


I can’t even believe I am asking myself these questions because I’ve been through all this before and come out the other side. I know I’m not going to ever have this much time off from work to do whatever the hell I want to do. I know I’m never going to have the life I had before my kids but am I really that bothered. No I probably won’t ever be able to drink a bottle of vodka before I go out out and dance all night and spend Sunday’s hungover eating my body weight in McDonald’s with my friends again. I probably won’t just go for a spontaneous weekend away with Rich just because. But I think I just need to get a grip and reflect on who I am and just pretend that person is on hiatus whilst I adapt to raising and nurturing my precious baby boy and watch my little girl grow and flourish.

I’m going to think long and hard about who I really am, what makes me tick, what ignites that fire in my belly, where do I want to be in 5 years time? What are my goals? How can I achieve them? How can I be a successful working mother? Maybe we all need to ask ourselves these questions from time to time so that we can be the best version of ourselves we can be. Perhaps, these questions depend on how I really feel about myself.


Basically, my body has grown and birthed two amazing children. The most remarkable experiences of my life thus far. So how can I ever feel sad that I am ‘Just a mum’. Being a mum means I have two people that have entirely depended on me for their whole little lives and will always look up to me and love me no matter what, so I really need to make sure I’m the best version of me I can be and fulfil all my goals so they can too!




Watch this space, because the real me is fucking sassy!

stay classy


*Please note: I know this is a shit blog post but I needed a little rant!

I HAD A BABY! : Part Two

So, as Valentine’s Day approached I was miserable. And fat. Like, really fat. Double decker bus, house end fat. My bodily functions appeared to have stopped working, my waddle was similar to that of an Emperor penguin – oh the romance.


Fortunately, I know my fiancé inside and out and I knew that when I woke up I should not expect a Michael Kors watch, a dozen red roses, a puppy or anything else that most girls upload photos of to Instagram with the hashtag #luckygirl – nor would I get a card. And this year, I almost definitely would not be getting lucky!

We just don’t do Valentine’s Day, I’m pretty sure in the years we have been together I have NEVER even had a card.


But I digress, Rich left for work at 5:30 and I slept until the she devil Ella woke me up. It was just another normal day. I was stroppy as always as I was huge, bored and anxious as to when this bloody baby would expel himself from my body! We ended up going to my mums where Ella plays for hours on end.

I had text my midwife the day before and asked – well practically BEGGED her to fit me in for another sweep as I could not deal with the pressure, Braxton hicks, waddle and especially the ridiculous heartburn that was making me vomit after EVERY meal. Luckily, she obliged to fit me in. So, off I went, the only date I was having for Valentine’s Day and certainly the only action I was going to get! So once again, all dignity was left at the door and another sweep ensued. As expected, the verdict: 3cm dilated, bulging membranes and absolutely no idea why I hadn’t popped yet but she explained when I did eventually labour it would be quick. She booked me in for an induction the following week but I knew for certain there was not a chance I was going another day overdue!

I walked down the road to visit Rich’s mum and I was in a lot of pain, she said she could see on my face it wouldn’t be long so I again left her in suspense for another day wondering when her precious grandson would arrive.

Ella decided she didn’t want to sleep at home and would sleep at her Granny’s, which in retrospect was for the best!

I spent all evening bouncing on that gym ball like I had never bounced before in the hope it would shift this little man, and by about 9pm I could tell it was working! I bounced beside Rich whilst he played Fifa so he could keep a close eye – or rather shout ‘ARE YOU OK?’ every time I dared to breathe a little too heavily – MEN!

After much bouncing and a quick shower, I took myself off to bed. Not that I could sleep for the Braxton Hick’s – or so I thought. I decided to download a contraction timer app to see if there was any kind of pattern and stopped and started it at every twinge and I dozed. About 1:00 am I knew these were contractions and not the Braxton Hick’s I’d been accustomed to over the last few weeks and they were getting stronger and stronger. I tried to wake Rich up but the lazy bastard was practically comatosed! By 1:30am I’d managed to revive him and phoned the hospital and my mum.

We got to the hospital around 2am and got to go into one of their birthing suites on the Midwife Led Unit, it was so big and calm. I was examined and was 4cm. Like my previous labour, apart from to be examined I could not sit or lay down instead leaning over the ginormous birthing pool. I had been listening to hypnobirthing podcasts for weeks in the hope I could focus my mind when the time came, however this all went out the window and I just counted and breathed my way through them until POP my waters went at 2:30 am, my waters had never broken when I had my daughter so I had no idea what to do and the midwife just told me to ‘Clean myself up’. Great, my mum helped me to dress and Rich passed comment about how my whole body language had changed and I looked so much more relaxed now my waters had broken – idiot! Within seconds of the words falling out of his mouth I was in AGONY. It was definitely gas and air time, that feeling is. My. Favourite. Rich stood behind me cuddling me or more propping me up.

Then what everyone dreads, the midwife Anna checked the baby’s heartbeat for a few minutes and I could tell by her face it wasn’t good news. His heart rate was dropping at an alarming rate and as Anna was alone on the unit we would have to go over to the main delivery suite and fast. She calmly told me that she had sent for a wheelchair for me, being the stubborn person that I am I said there is absolutely no way I would be sitting in a wheelchair. Well, I was categorically told I would be sitting in the wheelchair and I would do it now. Ok, off we went flying down the corridors of the hospital with my mum and Rich hurriedly following behind.

I got into the delivery suite, and I could not stand the pain. I asked for something stronger and was told I would need to be strapped up and monitored first to make sure the baby was ok. Like I mentioned earlier, I HATE laying down when in labour the pain just feels so much worse. I laid on my left side and was examined, and amazingly I was already 10 cm. All of a sudden I had to push. Attractively Rich held my leg that I had been flailing in the air and my mum held my hand. After 5 good pushes, he was here.

After an amazing 43 minute labour my son… this little man entered our world!



I HAD A BABY! Part One:


So my due date the 8th February FINALLY came around, coincidentally my daughter Ella’s fourth birthday so naturally we were trying to be normal and give her a happy day whilst absolutely SHITTING OURSELVES.


We spent the day on tenterhooks whilst trying to give the little lady a wonderful birthday! She opened mountains of presents; skipped merrily to pre-school, played with her friends, had a marvellous tea party at Grandma’s eating cake – what more could she possible want? At bedtime, we read her new school book ‘Dad’s Birthday’ by Roderick Hunt, an absolutely top Biff, Chip and Kipper book! I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight when suddenly she realised what hadn’t happened. “Mum, my little brother isn’t here! Didn’t he want to share his birthday with me?” I explained, maybe he wasn’t ready and he will choose when his birthday should be, inside though I was screaming “COME OUT PLEASE I FEEL LIKE I MIGHT BURST SOON FOR FUCKS SAKE!” But you know, that might’ve freaked her out a bit.

So Ella had a great day, I on the other hand had a quick trip to the midwife which resulted in a stretch and sweep (If you’re unfamiliar with the term then google it, unless you’re of a nervous disposition/ may have one in the near future – you may scare the shit out of yourself) lucky me also had the pleasure of a student midwife observing. This was the moment my dignity officially left the building, there was no waiting outside the room whilst I undressed and carefully placed a sheet over myself. Oh no I dropped my kegs and laid on the bed and told myself to think happy thoughts. Now, I know my midwife quite well now. She has been my midwife throughout both of my pregnancies so I know how she rolls, if by the time she’s elbow deep she thinks you’re ready to pop she’ll go for it. And oh she went for it, Richard held my hand but I don’t think he expected me to squeeze it quite so tightly. The verdict – 80% effaced and 2cm dilated. The waiting game continued…

We waited and waited, to cheer me up Richard went to M&S and bought us the Valentine’s Day ‘Dine in for two’ including the bottle of wine in the hope that by the time V Day rolled around I would have popped and be able to enjoy a glass. Well, by Saturday 11th February he was that sick of looking at my miserable face he said it was time we ate the food. Which was sooo good.


Sunday 12th Feb: Ella’s Birthday Party

I was most unenthusiastic as I was quite frankly MASSIVE, Grandma had organised it because she thought I was mean not giving her a party despite the fact we had no idea if I’d even be present. It wasn’t great, two of the kids that came had food allergies which they neglected to tell us about and then moaned about the food on offer – I’M NOT MYSTIC FUCKING MEG! Anyway, two hours of my life I won’t get back but Ella loved it, we went home via McDonald’s drive through and snuggled all afternoon on the sofa and she painted my nails using her nail varnish.


Despite the fact I was so unbelievably fed up, I was determined not go down the route so many do trying to force their bodies into labour by doing all these extreme and ridiculous methods that inevitably won’t work because: BABIES COME WHEN THEY’RE READY NOT BECAUSE YOU HAD A VINDALOO AND GAVE YOURSELF DIARRHEA WHICH YOU CLAIMED TO BE YOUR ‘CLEAR OUT’.


Parental Outsourcing is BS

So, being the hormonal volcano that I am at 38 weeks pregnant, I spend my days watching documentaries – when I’m not cleaning the house for the 17th time that day after Hurricane Ella, my delightful daughter has empty the contents of one of many toy boxes all over the floor, that is.

I came across a particularly good one on ‘All 4’ called ‘Too posh to parent’ and quite frankly I was HORRIFIED.

The premise of the documentary was mothers who were searching for/ had already acquired so called ‘Nannies’ to raise their children for them, however the job description didn’t end there. They are expected to do pretty much everything, borderline slaves!


These people are expected to give up their lives and go above and beyond the needs of their employer for what I expect is a basic wage, be spoken to as if they are nothing, forced to look plain and ugly so that they cannot be seen to be competition to the female of the house and generally do as they’re told!

An agency called ‘Nanny and Butler’ was used to find the millionaires the best home help money can buy. I’ve since browsed their website and came across this list of ‘responsibilities’

Our Nannies are responsible for:

  • Whether the applicant is on the Protection of Children Act List and has therefore been banned from working with children in a childcare role.
  • All nursery duties. This includes cooking, cleaning and laundry, but only for the children
  • Physical care of the children
  • Supporting and providing activities for the development of the children
  • Providing well balanced and nutritious meals
  • Cleaning and tidying the nursery, bedroom, playroom
  • Cleaning and laundering the children’s clothes and toys
  • Responsibility for cleaning and maintaining household equipment relating to the care of the children
  • Taking children to playgroup, nursery, school and on outings appropriate to their age
  • Preparing for special occasions such as birthday parties
  • Caring for children when they are sick and administering medicine(s)
  • Travelling with the children and preparing for holidays, weekend visits, etc.
  • Communicating with parents on all aspects of the care of their children
  • Discussion with parents relating to time on and off duty, nursery expenses, transport, babysitting
  • Cleaning and tidying the accommodation provided for the nanny.

Don’t get me wrong, raising kids is HARD WORK. And I, like most working mums have help! My daughter attends pre-school 3 half days a week and (when I was at work #maternityleave) the rest of the time I was lucky enough to have my parents to look after her.

However, the rest of the time I am 100 % committed to being a mother. I do my own kids washing, cooking, cleaning, cuddling, scaring away the monsters in the night, sitting up when she’s not well, doing activities I absolutely hate just so she’s happy – the list literally goes on and on. And all this is fitted around a full-time job that quite frankly is bloody necessary. It pays for the roof over our heads, the trips to soft play, the new shoes after she’s scuffed hers riding her back for the millionth time this year – and quite frankly bugger all else! But surely if I was a millionaire, like the women from this programme, I’d be able to pay people to do some of my jobs for me to free up time to spend with my kids! Why would I want to pay someone to physically raise my children? That is MY JOB! That is after all why we have children, is it not?

One of the women featured in the documentary has been quoted saying:

“Yes, I do cherry-pick the parts of parenting I want to do, but what is wrong with that? I think most parents would, too — if they could afford it. “
Nina Naustdal

Read more:

I hope when my daughter looks back on her childhood she remembers all the love her family have given her, not some random stranger that is paid to look after her. I want her to remember all the bike rides, feeding the ducks, holidays, beach days etc. And I will be in all of these memories.

Why have children if you’re not going to enjoy them or nurture them to the best of your ability, as far as I’m concerned that’s why we are here!

Side note: I’m trying to write this post sat on the sofa, ready to pop out baby number 2 in the next 10 days, with my nearly 4-year-old daughter laid next to me – who is naked and eating pink Smarties whilst watching Paw Patrol. What more could the kid want? So, shove your mansion and your slaves, we are happy as Larry.

I thought I’d write a list of all the things I LOVE about being a mummy that I would miss if I had a full time nanny:

  • CUDDLES – There is just nothing better.
  • The cries in the night just for me.
  • Teaching a new skill
  • Having conversations, whether that’s why the sky is blue or why we don’t announce that we have farted in public.
  • Days out together
  • Laughing – At everything and anything!
  • Being the best comfort when your child is unwell.

I bet there are upsides, all of us mum’s love a moan and a whinge when we are fed up about X, Y and Z but do they really compare to the above? NEVER.


Maternity Leave

‘Put your feet up,’ they said.

‘Enjoy the peace and quiet,’ they said.

‘Have a nice rest before the baby comes,’ they fucking said.

Those people are lying bastards!



That was all great the first time round when I was 19 and spent my days going out for brunch with friends or treating myself to a new MAC foundation, which I would spend about an hour deliberating on which shade would be best. Maternity leave with your second child is literally like you’ve aged 50 years and have committed yourself to a lifetime of wearing pyjamas and your hair in a messy bun.

^ That was then… sob sob.

Having said that, what 19-year-old girl really comprehends the absolutely enormous task they are going to be faced with when having a child. I had left the flat I shared with my best friend Georgia and returned home to my parents after a year of independence, too much tequila and more hangovers than I can remember! Gone were the nights of rolling in with a kebab at 4am and scrambling around for work at 7am getting ready for a killer 12 hour shift every Sunday. This in itself was hard enough, especially knowing my friends were still living that life which I still craved.

After 41 whole weeks and two days my little pink bundle arrived kicking and screaming, the most pissed off looking newborn you ever did see.

Fast forward four years and I have been on maternity leave for 18 days, where the peace and quiet is I do not know. My little girl Ella goes to nursery for 3 half days a week but the rest of the time she is my little shadow, constantly asking questions such as ‘What is that made of?’ or ‘Where does the water go when it runs down the plughole?’ and my personal favourite from yesterday – ‘Mum, why are you putting a bra on? You’re not even going out!’ Face palm.

When I’m not answering all of those questions, I’m cleaning – washing up for what feels like eternity because apparently Rich doesn’t know how to use the dishwasher or evening doing it the old-fashioned way. If I’m not washing up, I’m doing some sort of housework with a nearly four year old ‘helping’.

Maybe I lied about not having girly brunches, me and my Ella have at least one a week! Not quite the same but just as sweet.

So basically, all I want to achieve in the next 3 weeks (hopefully less) of this pregnancy are:


  • Long hot soaks in the bath – ALONE.
  • An eyebrow shape and tint and eyelash extensions (purely for vanity as without I will look horrendous during/after labour)
  • Brunch with friends/ Rich – maybe even throw in a mocktail, why the hell not!
  • NO MORE HEARTBURN (I can dream)
  • Someone to cook for me and clean the house.
  • That peace and quiet thing that everyone keeps telling me I’m supposed to be enjoying.

Pigs in blanket day is over and I am sad…

So Christmas is over and the new year is fast approaching, and just like every year we’re stuck in what everyone is calling ‘Limbo Week’. And unlike last year, today I returned to work after the festive period 34 weeks pregnant, much rounder and wondering why the hell I bothered when I could quite happily sit on my fat arse and finish off the Quality Street!

The run up to Christmas is always manic in my house, my other half is a butcher and obviously rushed off his feet stuffing birds and wrapping sausages…ahem. Which means I have the joy of the Christmas shopping all by myself! Which obviously being a fat hormonal mess this year wasn’t my favourite thing. However I did manage to pick up these bargains…



My sister-in-law has been wanting to dye her hair a crazy colour for a while now so I introduced her to the Bleach London Instagram page which is so cool and she obviously fell in love with it so I knew we were onto a winner.

She’s also obsessed with Ted Baker at the moment so I knew a little perfume set would be good, all floral and feminine scents that will be perfect when spring comes around.



So, I had the joy of waking up to these two delights on Christmas morning! Rich woke me up at 5am which I was clearly thrilled with, I managed to get him to stay in bed until 6:30am when he woke up our little treasure Ella to check the fat man had been!


We had a great morning wrestling presents out of their boxes and untangling the smallest of toys from the masses of wire holding them in place which is my favourite thing EVER (Said no parent ever)


Anyway, all in all we had a great Christmas and ate far too many pigs in blankets and watched Home Alone approximately 30 times because, quite frankly it’s the best Christmas film there is.


I’m more than ready for 2017:

  • New baby
  • New challenges
  • A summer off with my babies
  • Hopefully start a new career
  • Just keep being me (Whoever that is anymore)



To celebrate Rich’s 26th birthday recently, we took a trip just 75 miles down the road to Otley!

We booked last minute using which is the best for finding a bargain and chose the Chevin Country Park Hotel & Spa.

As soon as you walk through the doors you know you’re in for 24 hours relaxation at least.

Check in wasn’t until 3 pm but full use of the spa is permitted before then, we chose to have lunch in the lounge bar and then a relaxing swim!

Had such a relaxing afternoon, sadly no availability for treatments due to the late booking but relaxing nonetheless!

Decided to go into Otley to find a restaurant for tea, using the TasteCard app I have through Perkbox found a great Indian that typically was shut! Ended up going to the Red Pepper in Otley which was great!

All in all a great stay and I can’t wait to go back for some pampering and quality time with my man once the baby is here!

Separation Anxiety

So, for the first time ever my threenager has gone off for a few days with my mum and dad to their caravan 300 miles away! 

We dropped her off early on Sunday morning and she was so excited, going on about ‘toasting marshmallows by a fire’ (Almost definitely not going to happen in a caravan) I had to quickly say my goodbyes before my crazy pregnancy hormones took over, held it together until I got in the car and cried like a baby. So Rich cheered me up the only way he knows how – he took me for breakfast and a walk down the beach. 

As you can see from the pic above it was a beautiful day! And the fun didn’t stop there, After a walk along South Bay in sunny Scarbados (A.K.A. home) we decided to take a little trip down the coast to Bridlington and we had such a nice walk, albeit pointing out all the fun places we will be taking Ella on our next trip. Me and bump were tired from all the walking so went home and enjoyed a well deserved nap!

I was rudely awoken from my nap to be told to get up and get ready for date night! Was hoping to go to put favourite Tapas restaurant but it was closed so went to the Italian down the road and it was lovely an and afterwards enjoyed a walk down yet another beach, this time the one where we may nearly 8 years ago!

I think when you have kids you forget so quickly what it was like before they came along and although I feel like I’ve lost an arm. It’s only a few days and most importantly I get to spend some quality time with my man like we used to because it will soon be all over and before we know it we’ll be arguing about who’s doing the next nightfeed or who’s turn it is to do the shitty nappy! 


Number One


I’m Emily, I’m 23 engaged to my very own BFG Rich  (Who I refer to as Richie purely because it pisses him off) we have a beautiful 3 year old called Ella Ruby and she is nuts. And in February on the same day our pint sized princess arrived we are due the long awaited baby number 2!

With that, I thought it was about time I started my own blog because I just LOVE reading other people’s and always wanted to do my own but I’ve been too scared. Apparently since being pregnant I’ve ‘grown some balls’ which my boss kindly pointed out to me, which I actually think is great! So here it is… BLOG NUMBER 1! (No clue where it will go from here so beware)