Tag Archive for: emotions

To the woman who tutted at me using the disabled toilets…

/1,777 Comments/in /by

Dear lady who loudly tutted at me using the disabled loos,

I know you saw me running in, with my able bodied legs and all. You saw me opening the door with my two working arms. You saw me without a wheelchair. Without any visible sign of disability.

You tutted loudly as I rattled the handle with my hands that work perfectly and my able voice call to my kids that I’d be out in just a minute.

My lack of wheelchair may have suggested to you that I was some lazy cow who didn’t care. Some inconsiderate bitch who was using something I wasn’t entitled too. (I actually carry a card to explain that I’m entitled to and have a disability key if you’d have cared to ask). You may have seen my face blushing as I caught your eye and assumed I was showing guilt at blagging the disabled loos.

The fact is that I have no bowel. I have a pouch formed from my small intestine which can’t handle volume and so I have to go to the toilet and poo several times a day. My lack of large intestine means that my stool is totally liquid as I have no means of absorbing the fluids in food and so its really hard to hold it when I need to go.

I sometimes have accidents which means a large toilet that has a sink right by me means I can clean myself up when things go awry.

I hate having to use the disabled loos as I have to deal with people like you staring, nudging, tutting. And whenever I can, I use the ladies toilets. Just so you know, disabled loos usually smell bad and don’t seem to be cleaned as often or as well as the ladies and so I wouldn’t choose this option unless totally necessary.

Whilst I’m at it, I’d like to address the cleaner in the supermarket ladies toilets I used this week. As I ran in, knees together, bursting through the door and running to the cubicle, I’m sorry that the noise of my (lack of) bowels made you burst out laughing.

I can actually take the sniggering as since I had a pouch made from my small intestine because my disease ridden colon was removed during surgery, the noise I make when I defecate is hilariously loud. Seriously, I get it. It’s comedic in it’s volume.

But before you ran outside the loos and called to your friend “OH MY GOD! You should hear the noise in there!!! I wouldn’t go in if I was you!!!!” Perhaps you could have noted my daughter who was waiting outside with our trolley because her mum had had to leave her stranded to run to the toilet. Perhaps you could have stopped and heard me sobbing with pain because the acid in my stools has no way to be neutralised because I don’t have a large intestine and so opening my bowels actually burns my skin.

Perhaps you both could have shown a little empathy, a little compassion, a little understanding.

Poo is funny. Disability is confusing.

I get that.

But humanity and care for fellow human beings is a choice.

To everyone else reading this, the next time you see someone who doesn’t “look disabled” using a toilet.

Or someone bursting through and crashing into the toilets noisily.

Take a moment. Remember that not all people who have the right to use disabled toilets are in a wheelchair. Some of us have a jpouch, a lot of us have an Ostomy bag that needs emptying and changing with the use of space, a sink and a bin. And even more of us just don’t want to shit our pants in public.

Think about the nearly 300,000 people in this country who have inflammatory bowel disease (not to mention the huge number of people with IBS!!!) who need to use the toilet urgently, noisily, smellily…

It’s an embarrassing enough thing to deal with before having to see disapproving looks or hear your laughs and jeering remarks.

Be kind yo…

Peace out

Sam xxxxx

Hernia surgery update

/0 Comments/in /by

I have been awaiting a date for hernia surgery, I am hoping this op is going to set me back on a healing path. My hernia isn’t large but it’s uncomfortable every day and is stopping me doing the things I want to do.

Anyway I heard from my consultants secretary this week. Mr Brown was unhappy with the time I’ve been waiting and has asked for me to be booked in to the private hospital in town rather than the usual one.

It’s a bit of a shock but for once, a nice one! Surgery should be within the next few weeks and will be with Mr Brown rather than just on the general list as was planned before. This has calmed some of my anxiety over this operation.

I was adamant that 2015 was going to have two things NOT happen for me. No house moving and no surgeries!!! After two huge ops in 2013 and 2014, I was really hoping for no cutting open of Sam!! Unfortunately that’s not to be, and I have been feeling really upset, angry and anxious. So the knowledge that I will be under Mr Brown’s care has really lifted my spirits and calmed some of my nerves.

Mentally I am struggling at the minute. I have just so much jumbling through my mind right now. Illness, jpouch, hernia, accidents plus my cut hand that’s still strapped up along with parenting and personal issues are making me feel fucking crazy. I am filled with self doubt, anxiety and sadness.

I’m carrying on regardless. Trying not to piss off everyone around me and just keep going. My head is swimming but I’m trying hard to work through my anxieties and sleep issues. I’ve downloaded a meditation app that I’m using at night to help me relax and sleep.

We are off to Filey for a few days next week and though we still have to work, it will be really nice to get some sea air, get out walking and have a change of scenery.

I’ll be photographing and instagraming my break next week so if you don’t already, head over and follow me over there (samcleasby)

Sam xx

Chronic Illness and Parenting – am I a shit mum because of my shit disease?

/9 Comments/in /by

I’ve been thinking a lot about how my illness has affected my children and the relationship between us. I have three kids and every day they amaze me with their intelligence, kindness, character and awesomeness.

Till 2010 my husband’s job took him away from home for up to nine months of the year. So my kids (born 2000, 2003 and 2005) and I were this super close gang. The four of us were together all the time and though, of course Timm was a huge part of all our lives, it often felt like I was a single parent.

Even when my Ulcerative Colitis was bad, we would still be this team as we had no other choice! We had help from my mum, sister and friends but we got through it together. The kids didn’t really understand, which I’m glad of. They just knew that sometimes I was poorly and we would have film nights where we all slept in one bed and hung out. It meant I could rest and know they were are safe with me.

Timm stopped working away in 2010 and it changed our family massively and for the better. The kids loved him being at home and we started our photography business together. It made all our lives better.

When I was at my sickest in August 2013, I thanked my lucky stars that his job meant he was home to care for the children and give them the support they needed. I had a few weeks in hospital and then came home without a colon but with an added ileostomy bag. They had been so worried whilst I was in hospital and their concerns upset me. I hated that my illness was making them so sad.

Then when I got home, my bag and scars, the staples holding my body together, my tiredness and weakness scared them. They became afraid to hug me. Fearful they would hurt me. And to this day, though totally understandable, it is the toughest thing I’ve gone through. My babies being too afraid to hug me.

Fastforward eighteen months and they’ve learnt so much. My second surgery took away my bag and replaced it with my Jpouch. Though they knew more, and were less freaked out this time, they suddenly had to learn to live with a mum, who once again would run out of the room to dash to the toilet. Who couldn’t eat certain foods, who takes medication that cause drowsiness.

sam cleasby mother parenting

This journey I have been on has been tough on me, but my kids have been through it too. They’ve had to see their mum disappear onto hospital wards for weeks at a time. They all freak out when I have even a scheduled clinic visit now, terrified I won’t come home for weeks. They have had to learn so much and I truly believe that though it’s tough, and I wish they didn’t have to go through it, that they’ve come away as more empathetic, kinder, more open humans.

The problem with chronic illness is that it isn’t about a few weeks and then life going back to ‘normal’, the illness IS life and it’s learning to reassess how you live this odd life that you never planned for.

Currently I have awful fatigue, sleep problems, anxiety, pain, toilet and diet issues. I take high dose codiene every day that make me drowsy. I struggle to wake before 9am. I know I am tetchy, self absorbed, distant and sometimes just absent.

The kids have had to lean on Timm both emotionally and physically. This isn’t a bad thing, he’s their dad!! But for me, it’s a struggle to see him take over all my roles. This is such a selfish thing to say. The kids are fine and so is Timm, so much so that I occasionally doubt whether I’m necessary at all!!

sam cleasby mum parenting blog

This is selfish and all a bit me, me, me, but I’m just going to blurt it out anyway…

It hurts that they go to their dad instead of me. It hurts that they want him to do bedtimes, it hurts to know they ask him for advice instead of me. It hurts to feel left out. It hurts to feel my illness is a barrier between us.

I’m scared they’ll think I don’t care. I’m scared they think I’m lazy. I’m scared that when my head is so full of my own pain, anxiety and distress that they will think I wouldn’t drop it all in a second for their needs. I’m scared they won’t need me anymore.

See, told you it was selfish!!!

Because when I put my brain into gear and tell my heart to shut up, I am so proud of my family! I’m so happy to see Timm having this amazing bond with the kids that he missed out on when they were small. I’m proud to see them growing into confident, self assured, wonderful young people.

When I see that Timm has learnt to plait hair because I can’t function in the mornings and Ellie needs help, my heart swells. When Thom tells his teacher that it’s daddy who helps him with all his homework, I thank the day he stopped touring. When Charlie has an awe inspiring role model of a dad in his life, I am thankful and blessed.

Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t angels, and my illness makes me blame myself whenever one of them does something wrong. I can’t help but think that if only I was more present and full in their lives at the moment, that they wouldn’t have made that mistake.

sam cleasby mum parenting blog

When I tell them off and perhaps shout a little louder than necessary because I’m in pain. Or I’m too short with them because I’m desperate to go to the loo. Or when I’m distant and perhaps seem cold because I haven’t slept a full night for two years and I’m so exhausted I could drop. All those things swirl through my head for days, just worrying me that their childhoods are being scarred by my illness.

I just hope that they understand that my illness has played a big part of all our lives, but that I have always loved them, that they are always the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing before I sleep, that they are the best things I ever did and always will be.

I hope one day I can explain to them that I wish it could be different, that being ill is tough but feeling like I fail them is tougher.  I hope they will know how much they mean to me.

And that I’m sorry that there were times that my illness may have hidden these truths from them.

Sam xx

 

 

 

Life with chronic illness – what it's really like

/83 Comments/in /by

“Get well soon!” That’s just one of those every day sayings right? But what if you have an illness that you will never get better from? The worst part about having a chronic illness is that it is a life sentence, unless there is some miracle cure, if you have a chronic illness, it will be with you for forever, there is no getting better soon, no happy ending,  there is no end in sight, there is no cure or end game.

And that is why, often it isn’t the physical pain that is the hardest thing to deal with, it’s the emotional pain that goes along with it.  The guilt, the idea that you are a burden to those around you.  It can feel like you are being crushed, that the illness is drowning you and swallowing up the person you are, leaving only this shadow of a person, a patient, weak, ill. It is so hard to deal with this.

How on earth can you fight this emotional suffocation when the root of it is never going to leave you?  If you have a ‘normal’ illness, you see the doctor, get a diagnosis, receive treatment and get better.  Chronic Illness just doesn’t follow that path.  Often diagnosis is difficult as the symptoms can be confusing and varied, it is so hard to quantify a tiredness that never goes away, or a feeling that your limbs are lined with lead.  How do you explain that your mind whirs constantly whilst simultaneously feeling like it is filled with porridge?

sam cleasby ibd blogger sheffield chronic illness

Being ill in this way is living with the unknown.  Every day is different, it’s hard to plan when you have no idea how you will feel when you wake up, not knowing whether you will feel ok or like you are 100 years old.  And so it is hard not to feel anxious, depressed or completely lost when you are in living one huge question mark.  There are constant questions and often no answers.

When people say “Get Well Soon” or ask how you are feeling, it is an uncomfortable exchange, you can either lie and say ‘fine thanks’, or horrify them with honesty ‘Well I have a slight blockage, a hernia, I have been to the loo 16 times today, the acid in my poo has burnt the skin on my bum and I am so tired I feel like I am dying’ or the one I usually go for is ‘getting there!’ with a cheery thumbs up…

People don’t know how to deal with chronic illness, both the person who has it and the people around them.  There is no guidebook for lifelong illness, no way to answer all the questions because it is so personal and there are so many illnesses that are a lifelong battle.

When you have an autoimmune disease, your body is literally fighting against itself.  The physical side of it is all through the body, living with daily pain, fatigue, aches, toilet trips, medication, food intolerances along with hospital trips, surgeries, treatment.  It is, at times, too much to bear.

But mentally and emotionally it is devastating.

The title of this post is ‘what it’s really like’ and I want to try and explain how I feel mentally…

I feel like my body is a failure, that it lets me down constantly.  I feel guilty.  I feel like a burden to others.  I feel like I let down people around me.  I feel like someone has a grip on me, a crushing hold on my chest that is squeezing the life out of me, holding a pillow over my face.  I am exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel.  I feel a sickly jealousy when I see healthy people.  A heavy hearted knowledge that my illness affects my husband and children, that I am not the wife he deserves or the mum they need.

I feel a sadness that sits deep in my bones, a guilt that is a lump in my throat stopping me from speaking and an embarrassment that my body is so broken.

exhausted quotes chronic illness

That is a bad day.  On a good day where I have little pain, few toilet trips and energy in myself, I feel upbeat, I feel proud of myself, I enjoy life because I know this healthy feeling may only be brief, I love harder, I am more open, I laugh longer, I am silly, I am fun. I have hope.

And hope is key.  Without hope, we have nothing.

This is life and so you have to learn to live it.  And LIVE well.  Your life may not be the one you have hoped for, the life you ever imagined.  But is the one you have and there is nothing you can do to change that.

You can’t take anything for granted, and sit on your laurels, you are ill but at least you have a life, there are many facing cancer and other illnesses that are terminal and so you can’t feel sorry for yourself.  (Not all the time, but sometimes everyone needs a full on mope!)

You learn to embrace and enjoy every good day you have, as you don’t know when the next one will be.  You learn to appreciate the small things, the good things in your life.  You take control of your own destiny and try everything you can to make your health better, through diet, medication, alternative therapies, talking, sharing, living…

Being sick makes you a lot of things, many negative, but some can be positive. Strength. Weakness.  Empathy.  Guilt.  Wisdom.  Fear. You have to take the lows, but learn to see, embrace and appreciate the highs too.

What is living with a chronic illness like? This is my story, but ask others.  You have a friend with ME/CFS? Lupus? Rheumatoid Arthritis? IBD? Don’t be afraid to ask questions, talk about it, tell them you want to hear how they actually are, not just ‘fine’.

The isolation attached to Auto Immune and Chronic Illnesses is immense and I feel that if we could all talk a little more about our lives, that we can help each other to bring discussions about illness into everyday life and make a difference to so many people.

This is my life with chronic illness.

Tell me about yours…

Sam xx

Tired, emotional, guilty

/0 Comments/in /by

I’m so tired. And the tiredness leads to anger, hurt, guilt.

I have no idea whether fatigue is something I just need to accept? Whenever I mention it to the doctors they look at me like I’m daft. “You’ve been through a lot” they say, “give your self a break”, “it all takes time”. Perhaps I expect too much of myself, but I really just wish I could be normal.

Every night, I get up once or twice to empty my jpouch, several times a night I wake thinking about whether I need to go to the loo. Since surgery I tend to have these vivid dreams, you know the ones where you feel like you’ve had a workout when you wake up? I also sometimes have stomach pains, butt burn and accidents.

So when morning comes, I just can’t open my eyes. I just don’t hear the alarm and Timm gets up with the kids. Every day. And the guilt builds… I wake up feeling so drained and exhausted that I can barely function. My limbs are like dead weights, my head fuzzy, my brain screams at me to go back to sleep. I feel lazy and guilty.

Timm leaves me to sleep as long as I need to. He never mentions it apart from asking if I had a bad night. But the guilt inside me is enormous, I feel I’m letting them all down. I feel like everyone thinks I am lazy.

I usually get up at 9am, a full two hours after I should get up. Some days I manage to get straight down into the office, some days I work from my bed. By midday I feel more energised and I try and get as much as I can done, but by 4pm I am flagging massively and could quite easily nap. Evenings are better for me, I feel more awake and often try and get housework done in this time. Then I’m usually in bed by 11pm (sometimes way earlier).

I don’t know whether it’s my routine that isn’t helping? Some nights, despite being completely exhausted I just can’t get to sleep and lay awake for hours.

Or I wonder whether it’s my diet? I have found I am now really intolerant to most vegetables and so my diet is quite restricted. The lack of vitamins and minerals worries me. I’m waiting for an appointment with the hospital dietician and have thought about asking to have my b12 levels checked. (People missing certain parts of the colon will have difficulty absorbing vitamin b12 and some need regular injections).

Sometimes I realise I don’t remember what normal is. My normal is so far away from other people’s that I wonder if my comparing myself to them is stupid?

When I say I’m tired, others talk of their tiredness too, and I think maybe I’m just not as tough as most people! Then I remember that my body has been through so bloody much in the past 18 months. That I’m missing an organ, that I’m learning how to use my pouch, that my body fights against me eating most healthy foods, that my immune system is knackered.

The thing I need to deal with the most though is the guilt. I feel like I need to apologise to Timm for how rubbish I am in the mornings. I feel like a bad mum and a rubbish wife.

I feel I need to explain to everyone that often I have a big front on. And that front is the mirage to tell you “I’m fine!” “I’m not weak” “I’m as good as you” “I don’t need anyone’s help”.

So when I’m seen on Facebook or instagram in the pub or walking the dog, know that it takes a big effort to do that, and I do it because I want to have the same abilities as others, I don’t want to be sick.

Know that every journey or trip requires planning to know where toilets are, a packing of wipes and underwear, a knowledge that using public toilets is an embarrassing experience because of the noise, that I’m using up valuable spoons to do that thing and will suffer for it later.

Please just have a little understanding that despite my brash, shouty, activist exterior I am still healing, still learning how to accept and use my new body and still dealing with the emotional trauma that the past 18 months have thrown at me.

Sam ✌️&❤️

To the imperfect mothers…

/0 Comments/in /by

I was 19 when I had my first child and I felt the weight of the eyes of society watching me and waiting for me to fail, the pressure of being a teenage mother statistic sat in my chest like a bowling ball.  I was throwing my life away, they said.  I was foolish, immature and had no idea what I was getting into, these were the whispers that surrounded my trimesters.  The sly glances from the ‘proper’ mums in Mothercare as my bulging stomach stretched out my Oasis tshirt and over the jeans I had borrowed from my boyfriend.  Maybe some of it was in my head, perhaps I imagined the looks, the judgement, the eye rolling.

teenage pregnant mum at festival

It made me want to be a perfect mum, I would make no mistakes, I would dedicate every waking hour to being the best mum in the world.  No one would be able to judge me because I would give them no reason to, I’d change the perception of young mothers and Id show them all.

Only all that pressure, on top of the sleepless nights, the crying, the breastfeeding, the nappies, the sheer tiredness, it got too much.  I was paying so much attention to being perfect that I was forgetting to enjoy it.  The stress of appearing to have all my shit together meant I became a swan.  Gliding serenely on the surface, but peddling like fuck under the water.

The doctor saw through it.  After he dutifully gave me a prescription for the reason for my trip to the GP, he said gently, almost sadly “and how are you doing?” I burst into tears and said that I wasn’t a good enough mum, that maybe my baby would be better off with someone who knew what they were doing, that I loved him more than anything but what if that wasn’t enough?

He told me his wife had just had twins.  He said she feels the same sometimes.  He said HE felt the same sometimes.  He told me that being a parent was so hard, but all you can do is get through every day, that what a baby needs is food, warmth and so much love.  That it was ok to feel overwhelmed, it was matter of course.  I wasn’t feeling this because I was a young mum.  I was feeling it because I was a mum.  Full Stop.

teen mum red hair struggle

That conversation sparked a change, I became more honest and spoke to those around me about how I felt.  I opened up to the mums at the baby groups and found the woman who terrified me the most, a doctor who had a little girl the same age as my son, who was so together and wore the right mum clothes, drove a nice car and had a husband and posh house was as terrified as me.  She held my hand and burst into tears and said “But it’s all so HARD!”

Becoming a mum is scary. At any age, it is such a huge change that you can’t be prepared for it.  You love your baby and though the physical aspects are tough, the feeding, lack of sleep, you don’t count on the emotional aspects being so hard.  The sudden realisation that you are entirely responsible for this tiny person, the pressure of trying to conform to societies notions of the ideal mother.  You are surrounded by other peoples opinions constantly.  This rehashed argument of working mums versus stay at home mums… There should be no argument, we are all just trying to do our best.

It’s this whole new world and it is filled with ‘experts’ who seem to know it all.  They all seem to have studied for this test and you are still flipping through the text book and needing a dictionary to just know what the words mean.  Its a world of those who know and those who don’t, your new mum friends know it all, your old childless friends don’t care!  You are stuck in the middle feeling overwhelmed.

I suppose the purpose of this post is that it is easy to lose your way in the quagmire of emotions and opinions, my assumption that I needed to be a perfect mother was so flawed, you see, no one is a perfect mother.  We all just try and get through the tough days and relish in the good days.  In my quest for perfection I forgot about enjoyment.  I worried so much about following the ‘rules’ that I misplaced the notion of enjoying my baby.

That baby is 13 now.  I tell you, those baby days pass so quickly, I look at my 5′ 9″ son now becoming a young man and smile as I remember his tiny soft hands and that new smell of his  newborn head.  When he winds his hair around his finger when he is tired I see how he has done that for all of his life.  I rejoice that I didn’t waste too much time worrying what others thought and revel in the knowledge that we were happy.

teen mum difficult imperfect so bad ass sam cleasby

My house was messy but we played.  Dinner wasn’t organic but it was fun.  He didn’t have matching socks but we didn’t care in the park.  My attire was 90s indie tshirts and things from charity shops but there is no dress code in my garden.

I love to think of all the fun we had, that dirty faced little boy and I.  I got tons of old wallpaper and we painted it with poster paint and our bodies. The hours spent with the wooden train track that he insisted I left for weeks and had to step over it to get in the kitchen.  Bath time together where there were more toys than water in the tub.  His giggles when he was on a swing.  His made up words (agosha meant I love you).  Building dens.  Quiet bed times as he lay in my arms and we fell asleep together.  Watching him learn new things.  His imagination.  Fun.

teen mum difficult imperfect so bad ass sam cleasby

Forget perfect.  Forget public perception.  Think fun.  Laughter.  Excitement.  Silliness.  Wonder.  Love.  Love. And more love.

Mums, you are enough.  You may not be perfect by the unobtainable standards of some, but you are perfect for your child.

Enjoy it because in the blink of an eye they grow up and that time is gone forever.

 

baby hendersons hendos sheffield

 

 

 

Love Sam xx

Apologies

/0 Comments/in /by

I just wanted to say a quick ‘I’m sorry’ for not blogging much at the minute. This surgery has hit me so much harder than last time and I just have no inspiration to write.

It’s an odd feeling for me as usually writing is my escape and feels so cathartic but right now I’m struggling to put pen to paper and I’m not sure why.

I think I’m filled with chaotic emotions at the minute and I’m struggling to share that with anyone. Everyone around me is being so kind, supportive and loving but a part of me still feels numb to it. I can’t really explain my feelings. I don’t understand them so it’s nigh impossible to get them out on paper in any way that makes sense.

20140604-115252-42772338.jpg

I’m definitely starting to feel more human, the painkillers are working well and so at least I’m pain free, I’m still in the phase where I have to go to the loo every 3 hours, including through the night so I’m quite tired. But everything seems to have gone well, my pouch is functioning properly and my wounds are healing really well.

Physically I’m doing good but emotionally I’m a bit all over the place. I’m finding it really tough to communicate this with anyone though as I really don’t understand it myself. It’s easier to smile and say everything’s ok than to be a stuttering idiot who can’t explain how I’m feeling.

I’m just having to remind myself that I’m only three weeks out of major life changing surgery and so I’m bound to be a little mixed up.

I’ll get there. I know I will. I just need to take one day at a time.

Sam xxxx

Say 'I love you' every day

/0 Comments/in /by

Im an emotional person and Im vocal with my love for the people around me, every night I say to the kids ‘Night night, I love you‘, it is just automatic and part of our routine.  But do we tell the people around us that we love, appreciate and care about them enough? Is it enough to just think ‘they KNOW I care about them’?

Recently I went and stayed with my aunty and uncle in Spain, it was a last minute trip and it was wonderful to get away from the stresses of life here, to sit in the sun and have a week with wonderful family and friends and just not think about surgery, illness or hospitals.  I was welcomed so warmly and they really looked after me, I am so grateful.

i love you

One thing struck me whilst I was there, my aunty told me every day, multiple times that she loved me.  She showered me in compliments and was so openly loving and caring.  She held my hands as we talked, hugged me, called me pet names and told me how much she cared about me.  I watched her do the same to her two adult sons, telling them how much she loved and adored them.  They rolled their eyes but you could see a small smile on their faces.  Because hearing that you are loved makes you feel amazing.

I had never thought about it before, I tell Timm and the kids I love them, but I don’t compliment them or gush with love as much as I could.  It is damn near impossible to be in a bad mood or feel sorry for yourself when you are being told how brilliant you are.  It is probably an ego thing, but it really went much deeper than that.

I felt warm and happy, my soul felt nurtured and my heart full.  It made me want to share that love and happiness, it made me feel open and accepting, contented and peaceful.

Since I have been home I make a point of complimenting the people around me and telling them I love them, especially the kids.  At first it felt slightly uncomfortable, they eyed me suspiciously when out of nowhere I told them how proud I was of them, that they were so talented, kind, beautiful and awesome, that I loved them so, so much.  This made me sad and made me want to tell them these things more often.  It isn’t enough to say ‘they know I love them’ and I certainly don’t want them growing up thinking “My mum rarely told me she loved me” I want them to be rolling their eyes and saying “Enough mum!!!” whilst secretly loving the fact they grew up KNOWING that I adore them.

love heart hands

It goes further though, I make sure I tell the people around me that I love them, even if it is in a card, or a telephone sign off.  When I believe my friends are courageous and wonderful I tell them, yes I sometimes worry Ill sound corny but Id rather feel like a cheese ball and them know I adore them than silently think it and them not know.

Think about it now, when was the last time you complimented your partner? A real heartfelt, honest, love filled phrase.  I saw my sister in law say on Facebook that she didn’t care if it were corny, but that she adored her husband and he was the best man in the world.  He replied with an equally loving statement and it was lovely.  They are two people who are so open with their adoration for each other that you can’t help but feel a bit smiley and coy when you are around them.  Its really beautiful!

Since being more open with my compliments and saying ‘I love you’ every day I can honestly say that I feel better, Im happier and I find that the more love you put out there, the more you get back.

My kids have stopped assuming that I am going to ask them to mow the lawn and have started telling me that they love me back.  Even the 13 year old lad and that is saying something!  We hug more, we laugh more and we love more.  All from those three little words…

Sam xxx