Woke up just before 4am. I’m going to feed myself Pro plus so don’t die. Why do I keep doing this? 

I want to sing a witty thing like “I got my mind on the money, money on my mind” about other things that aren’t money but my brain isn’t working and I can’t estabish a proper sentence.

DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW LONG THIS IS TAKING ME TO TYPE?

Dylan is brushing his teeth. I’m not sure how he reached his toothbrush from the jar on he sink. I don’t actually care. I’m too tired. 

Send help.

Accidentally just bought myself an ipad. 

I had to get Harrison to take Dylan to have breakfast and whatever else.

I’m exhausted. I woke up at 2am, 3am (and had a breakdown over things), 5am and then just before 7am. My back may or may not be broken, as in it’s not but it hurts a shitton, I’ve had no sleep and I want to hide from everything and cry because I don’t know what to do about….. 

I’m being vague.

Also I posted all of my coursework to the head of my course over a week ago and she hasn’t received it. I said, since forever that written work is a fucking nightmare and we should have been able to just use computers. Although last night my computer decided to corrupt itself.  I’m supposed to have a one-to-one with her on Friday lunchtime which I completely forgot about but actually cannot even deal with.

Too many fucking things and they are messing with my ability to be happy around my son. Can I spend all day in bed please?

It’s 330am and I’m awake having a minor breakdown for reasons that are reasons. 

I NEED a fucking massage before I murder someone or just yano… cry. I might cry anyway. Also I’m going to run away from everything and go to Iceland (the country not the shop) as soon as I’ve renewed my passport. I could get a massage there (hey Blue Lagoon spa) but I need one NOW.

It’s Wednesday btw, which is significant but for conpletely different reasons. 

I haven’t really updated because I’m lazy, but also because I got mad at Tumblr for uploading the wrong video then refusing to let me upload the right one. Yes, I’m that petty. Whatever, Afrer three days I’m admitting defete and I’m going to put it on my youtube then onto here.

I’m looking forward to the rest of the month. On Friday we’re going to the Museum of London (Docklands) and I’m reakky fucking excited. Saturday Dan is coming to visit (HORRAY!) and then I still have my birthday and the London meetup to be excited about which I am beyond excited about but SO nervous because only three people have confirmed on the Facebook page.

I’m SOOO excited for Friday though, I could just die.

Whatever, watch out for the hilarious video that I will get around to posting and I’m sure I have a few posts to catch up on as well as Dylan’s 365 blog.

I’ll probably lose followers over this and offend people but I don’t care. I need to ‘rant’.

First I want to point out that in my opinion if a child is able to get out of their pram and sit on a seat on the bus so the pram can be folded they should if need be. As in there are three prams and 2 spaces and one baby is asleep and the other is a newborn etc. I’m always the first to get Dylan out of his pram and onto my lap to make way for other people.

Anyway, on the way home today Dylan fell asleep in his pram. It’s not a big pram, actually is a maclaren stroller. He was asleep as we stopped at a bus stop and the driver let a woman in a wheelchair on. I quite happily moved the pram (with Dylan sleeping inside it) out of the bay so she could manouver her wheelchair in and then put him back once she was comfortable. 

Now, on the wall of the bay there are stickers saying the space is reserved from wheelchairs AND pushchairs.

The the driver proceeded to shit off the engine and tell me that he wouldn’t move unless I either got Dylan out of his pram and folded it up OR got off the bus. “I can’t have a pram and a wheelchair on at the same time”.

Well for one that’s bullshit. The bay is made to fit 1 pram and 1 wheelchair or 2 prams. In fact on the way out thismorning I was on a bus with a wheelchair. 

But secondly, and this is my problem. We were on the bus, in the space first. Dylan, my THIRTEEN month old child was asleep. Not only should I not have to wake him but IMO he’s not really old enough to be expected to be able to sit on his own seat on public transport. The thing is, while I am sympathetic to the woman in the wheelchair I actually don’t give a fuck that she was in a wheelchair because it shouldn’t mean that I have to be turfed off the bus, that I paid to travel on so she can travel instead.

She is not more important, or more in need than my son. He ability to get home shouldn’t come before mine/ours. 

I know for a fact that if there were two prams on the bus and there ‘wasn’t space for another’ and a third wanted to get on they would be turned away. So why was it not the same for a wheelchair user? 

Not only should I not have to fold up my pram and carry Dylan so she could get on the bus, but when I was unable (or maybe unwilling cause I’m not sure where the line is drawn when your child is asleep) to do there is no fucking way I should have been made to get off the bus. As far as I am aware spaces on public transport come at a first come first serve basis not a ‘wheelchair pity party so anyone in my way can get fucked’ basis. 

Under normal circumstances ie Dylan was awake I would fold the pram in an instant not because I was asked to but because I realise that it must be uncomfortable enough to be in a wheelchair without being crammed next to a thirteen month old child who likes to wriggle and kick while on the bus. But you can get fucked in your fucking wheelchair if you think its in any way ok for me to get off the fucking bus just so you can get home quicker. Fuck you. I would be fucking ashamed if I was the reason a mother and baby had to get stuck in the cold. What the fuck makes you so fucking special?

Edit:

Also let me add, before some know it all anon pops up telling me that “I don’t even know what was wrong with her/what she’s been through/her condition/how ‘in need’ she was/is”

For one, that shouldn’t matter, a person in a wheelchair be it through disability of age should not be more important than a baby (or anyone else for that matter but an adult can move out of that bay).

Secondly, I know/knew her. She is an old school friends sister and I’ve known her since I was five (I haven’t seen her for a good three+ years hence why she didn’t recognise me etc) and I know exactly what is wrong with her and he level of disability vs capability.

I still think she should get fucked for thinking that she was in any way more entitled to get home on that bus, in that space than Dylan was,

I got some lovely things from Pandora for my birthday today. From my mum, uncle and grandparents.. Oh and from H and Dylan but I paid for those because.. whatever. That ruined shopping for me and I stomped round in a bad mood once the realisation of how shit that is sank in.

I went to Hollister and terrified a shop assistant when I demanded to know why the 00’s we too big for me (because “DO I LOOK LIKE A DOUBLE ZERO? THESE SIZES ARE SHIT”) I hate Hollister anyway. 

Dylan and I shared a pizza in Pizza Express and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him just sit and eat while we were out. Everyone adored him, one of the waiters kept coming over to coo over him. 

He’s chomping on homemade mac and cheese and strawberries now. I brought my sister back to our place because Harrison is at Wireless (don’t get me started) and I’m not in a good enough mood (obviously) to spend this evening alone.

I said I wasn’t going to get any more visible (hands, arms, shoulders, back etc) tattoos until after I get married. Except tattoos ae really theraputic and I want my fingers done now. 

Today I’m taking Dylan to meet my mum and go shopping for birthday things. Namely pretty things from Pandora. I think I might rent out a kiddi car for Dylan, because why not? yano? I should also buy myself something to wear for the party my mums throwing for me (in fact I know exactly what I want and where to get it from) but I feel like shit because I’ve gained weight so I refuse to buy myself anything. BUT Dylan needs (actually he doesn’t need anything but whatevs) an outfit for the party too so I’ll buy him one (and probably a ton of other stuff as per).

People don’t really get it. Before they meet Dylan people tend to think I gush about him, or that I talk endlessly about him. To be honest I do, but that’s because he’s my entire life in one little human and I love him more than anything.

But the thing that makes me happiest, aside from Dylan, is after people meet him, be it family, my mums friends, my friends.. whoever, after they meet him they just melt. He is such an amazing child. He has a personality and somehow it’s like he has charisma which doesn’t make any sense to me (because how?). He has an amazing chilled out thing going on where he just toddles around showing people things and rarely fussing or crying. And that smile. Fuck my life. I’m SO in love with him.

I do have a point. My point is you just cannot fully understand how amazing he is until he is right in front of you. And then it just hits you because he’s so cool. And he’s only thirteen months old.

I’ve mentioned before, my lack of coping skills.

Another thing I do aside from spend money, wear sweats and drink wine is cut/dye/change my hair. Thismorning I’ve dyed my hair and cut about 3 inches off the bottom because I’m having a minor breakdown over stuff that I’m not talking about. 

My hair stylist and colourist are going to flat out murder me. If you know how long they’ve been cutting out my bangs and trying to get my hair back to is natural colour with healthy volume and shine you would probably cry. I have a feeling they might cry when they see me. oops.

Dylan is napping. During nap time I work out in an attempt to not feel so fat all the time. I can’t say it really works although I feel much, MUCH worse if I skip a work out. 

I don’t have work again today which is nice because I’m exhausted after Harrison came home and woke up Dylan with his loudness last night and I had to fight to get Dylan to sleep again till well past 10pm. I’m trying to decide whether we should go out today. And by go out I mean go shopping. The answer is of course no. No Holly you should not go shopping, Dylan doesn’t need anything else. But then I don’t feel like staying in today.

I was talking to my mum about getting married in Greece and now I have pictures of beautiful Greek weddings floating round my brain. Except she said that it probably wouldn’t be my best idea because my family would have to go to Greece. To which I replied that I just wouldn’t invite them. Dealing with the situation like an adult, as always.

It’s my birthday in seventeen days. I’m turning 21 woohoo!! I’m going to convince my mother to buy me pretty things from Pandora and buy myself an iPad because I’m a grown up and grown ups buy themselves presents.. Right?  Oh and my mum is throwing a party for me which is making me nervous and I feel the need to lose 10lb in preparation for it. I won’t. duh. But I feel like I should.