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Today I bring to you a weird documentation of a friendship that has stood the test of time, written from both of our perspectives. It’s been about 16 years (I probably got that wrong because I’m sh*t at maths).

I’ll go first…

Kez Unprepared

I met Ash (who now comes complete with new blog which she totally does not update enough despite showing great promise) in high school. We kept each other company in home room. We made bad jokes and I supported Ash’s love of TV presenter Ray Martin (with the unmoving hair), out of pity because I felt like she needed to not be so weird and alone. Kidding. She wasn’t alone. She was just weird. We bonded over creative writing projects (nerds!) and we enjoyed being all sarcastic about our shared private schooling experiences, mocking the weird social ladders that tend to exist in those environments. I liked Ash for her ability to read people and see through the bull.

Ash is always on the move. Picking up and moving from cool place to cool place, living the bachelorette life (mostly) and enjoying the non-parenting life. Ah, the spontaneity!

Despite our lives being quite different, we always make time for each other (when we can). I don’t think that some of our private Facebook messages should ever see the light of day. We’d probably end up in jail. Actually, I think we once had a conversation about what we would do if we both ended up in jail. Things get pretty wacky when we use technology to communicate. We can start off talking about the meaning of life and then end up talking about jailhouse fashion or quoting Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl song.

That sh*t is bananas.

Ash tends to bitch about parents and people who are married a lot. I am married with a kid, so you’d think our friendship would have imploded by now. Despite all odds, we’re closer than ever. I think I really like Ash’s honesty and it makes me feel like I can be honest too. That’s a good quality to have in a friend.

Also, despite not being a massive fan of kids, she’s quite a fan of the Little Mister. She buys him little presents and loves the silly photos I send her. It’s cute seeing them dance together (to music that may or may not even be playing) in a cafe, while I frantically eat my lunch.

I feel like Ash is a childhood memory that will scar me for life

UPDATE YOUR BLOG, DUDE. Ray Martin would want you to. Do it for Ray Martin and his Lego hair.

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Smokey Douglas aka Ash

So I have this friend called Kez. I’ve known her for a while. We bonded back in the days of high school over our general weirdness and our love for Ray Martin (case in point). We graduated, and remained friends. I went off to uni and graduated and Kez went to a lot of unis, and we remained friends. Kez got married while I continued jumping from bad relationship to bad relationship and we remained friends. Kez had a kid and we remained friends. I moved to Melbourne, to London, to Melbourne and a thousand other hovels in between, while Kez made a family home and we remained friends.

I know what you’re thinking, gosh they must really love Ray Martin. And we do. But there are other things that help keep the friendship alive. Because let’s face it, our lives are pretty much as opposite as you can get, and the things in common (on the surface) are dwindling every year as our lives continue in opposite directions, so as amazing as Ray Martin is (it’s the hair ok!) he can’t keep us together forever.

Kez is my friend who I can turn to no matter how shit the situation and she will make me laugh. Well actually her manipulation of her son makes me laugh. Who doesn’t love getting sent a picture of 2 year old smiling cheekily into the camera, with a caption that says “Hey Ash, I’m not wearing pants!”

She’s also honest. She doesn’t just put a smile and pretend everything is fine and dandy. If her day is shit, she’ll tell you. If she’s struggling, she’ll say. It’s a lot easier to turn to a friend and say “I’m having a bad day and I feel like a failure” when you know you won’t be judged in return.

The best part of Kez though is that she has a sense of humour. I don’t understand children, nobody gave me the manual to read, so I am constantly saying things and doing things that I think most mums would take serious offence too. Like my approach to mother’s day; “how come I don’t get a day where I get lavished with presents to celebrate the fact I’m smart enough to use birth control?” Or my approach to raising a child; “Can’t you just shove it in the Ikea ball pit and go to the pub?” While yes, she probably takes offence, she also laughs! Whether it’s at me or with me, well minor details people!

So while Ray Martin still holds a special place in my heart, Kez has become more than that. She is a friend that stands the test of time and I know no matter what, she’ll always cheer me up, have a giggle and nag me to death to update my blog.

This post is a (loosely interpreted) part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge. 

I love photos. I love taking them and I don’t mind being in them, as long as I look alright-ish. I just think there’s no better way to collect your memories. I love capturing the most candid moments and there’s nothing better than reminiscing over happy times.

I have so many favourite photos, but this is my favourite recent photo of myself. It was taken at the music festival I attended last weekend. My best friend (and the day’s partner in crime) took it. I always feel uncomfortable asking for someone to take a photo of me, because I don’t want to seem vain, but I knew she would understand. I wanted to prove that I had gotten out and done something different from my usual daily life

For me, this photo represents me as an individual, not just a mummy or a wife. Oh, and I actually put on some lippie and did my hair!!! I actually felt a little bit attractive – something you can’t always feel when you’re dragging a toddler around (I imagine it’s not unlike wrestling a crocodile to watch).

I truly love photographs of myself where I’m with my family or my husband, but when I was looking for a photo to feature today, I realised that they weren’t my favourite pictures of me. They were my favourite photos of my loved ones!

My shirt says, “Count your blessings”. My favourite life motto. It’s something that I really have clung onto the past few weeks – life has been a roller coaster!

I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend xx

This post was a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge. 

That was the worst night’s sleep ever. Poor Little Mister kept us both awake we are buggered. His eyes are all googly.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 14, 2013

The Little Mister woke me at 2am and I do not think I slept solidly from then until 7am. I spent over an hour loitering in the hallway outside his room while he whinged, stopped, whinged, stopped, whimpered, stopped, cried, stopped. He had misplaced his dummy and when I finally couldn’t take it anymore (do I get points for patient parenting?), I found him sitting bolt upright in the corner of his cot, eyes squeezed shut, having a whinge. He did look so sad. He had tried reeeeeally hard to manage without his dummy (which he is addicted to at sleep time), but it just wasn’t working out. I then spent the next hour awake in bed hoping he wasn’t too uncomfortable or sick and worrying that he might have wet through his nappy (or was due to). I wasn’t going back to have a look-see!!!

I swear the Little Mister got wind of our date night planned for tomorrow and is slowly but steadily trying to destroy us.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

It’s starting to feel like a conspiracy. My husband got me tickets for a show a million bajillion years months ago. We’ve been so excited for our upcoming date night and it’s almost here! Of course, the Little Mister spends the lead up to it getting sick with a cold, suffering a sleep regression and developing conjunctivitis. My parents (the lucky babysitters) are a tad nervous as he’s staying overnight and has revived his separation anxiety issues of late! All I can hope for is a guilt free, care free night – fingers (and everything else) crossed!!! Please don’t let this turn into some kind of cruel twist of Murphy’s lore thing.

Watching PlaySchool and feeling overwhelmed by their arts & crafts.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

Yeah, yeah. We watched a bit of teev. Little Mister was quite tired and grumpy and I just needed him to sit still for a while. Meanwhile, I looked on in horror at their native animal scene created soley out of toilet rolls and pipe cleaners and all the things that simply are not found in an every day home.

Feel a tad guilty but I’m counting down to nap time!!!

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

It’s just a little bit adorable when the Little Mister uses his toy keys to try and open the door Either that or he’s trying to escape :/

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

My sick Little Mister has been drugged up and sent off to bed. I hope he feels comfy and gets plenty of sleep.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

I’m already excited about going to bed tonight. #ThisIsNotASexyTweet #IJustLoveSleep

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

OK, so I’ve been spending the Little Mister’s nap time watching 48 Hours episodes & drinking Coke Zero. Judge away #TiredKez

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

…And he’s awake. Good effort, Little Mister. We clocked up a well needed 2.5 hours. Fingers crossed for a nice afternoon.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

Last tweet was a false alarm. NOW the Little Mister is awake! I may have drifted off for 15 minutes. Thank you, little man! It helped!

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

No joke. 15 minutes of the deepest sleep I’ve ever achieved in such a short time was a lifesaver. I actually felt more rested when I awoke. I guess any sleep is great when you’re existing on 3 hours from the previous night.

Little Mister likes to offer his food to me before he starts a meal. He’s either really generous or he’s checking it’s not poisoned.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

Reading a book out loud to myself in a circus tent.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

Due to his usual form, the Little Mister visited me in his IKEA circus tent (where I may have been hibernating a little), with his favourite book. He likes to wait until I put on my enthusiastic face, start reading in a perky voice and then bail. I stubbornly kept reading, hoping he’d come back but I think I knew the jig was up when I heard Elmo singing some song about loving his goldfish (and his crayons too). I may or may not have stayed in the tent for a bit longer…

The Little Mister pretends his toy hammer is a telephone. So funny. Just looks like he’s beating himself on the head (it’s soft and plush).

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

It’s so lucky he’s funny and cute. I was fading fast. He likes to use different toys as phones. He puts them up to his ear, says “Hello”, followed by a lot of emphatic nodding of his head and gibberish that sounds very matter of fact. I hate to think that he may be imitating me…am I really like that?

I need to get out of my head.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

It was one of those days where I was stuck at home, feeling cabin fever, frustration at all my plans that were put on hold (Little Mister being in quarantine) and fatigue triggering all my insecure thoughts. It was horrible, but I hung in there as best I could and tried to focus on the Little Mister. A good conversation with my husband on the phone really did do wonders. He was a good listener and very supportive. I couldn’t wait until he got home.

Dinner: meticulously removed all of his healthy home made meal from the bowl then Incredible Hulked it from its suction cup attachment.

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

The Little Mister seemed quite suspicious of green beans today for some reason. I tricked him into eating one. He didn’t even notice. One point to me!

Have been soothed and hugged by Mr Prepared. Great for my mental health So glad the evening is winding down!

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

Gosh, a hug does wonders. The Little Mister perked right up when he saw his dad (probably sick of my face). That kept him going for a bit longer through arsenic hour.

Little Mister is in the bath. Phew! Rather than his usual nudie run around the house he went limp in my husband’s arms – dead weight! Cheeky

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

The Little Mister loves bath time and I think he secretly wanted extra hugs from Mr Unprepared, so instead of insisting on a nudie run around the house (slippery little sucker), he flopped about in his arms so he had to be carried all the way. Little Monster. He’s a heavy little chap.

The Little Dude is asleep and I’ve watched Home & Away while eating spag bol. All is well…for now!

— Kez (@KezUnprepared) May 15, 2013

I am now writing up this blog post, with my feet up. Psyching myself up for a nice sleep tonight (we hope). Once I’ve posted this, it’s snuggle time with my hubby who has been working longer hours this week so we can make tomorrow’s date night possible. Let’s hope our team work gets us through!!

How was your day? Tell me all the boring stuff  

This post was a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.

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1. Making it through a tough day and still feeling strong. Today has been the mother of all days. Nothing particularly ridiculous has happened, but it was tiring. I forgot to pack the stroller back into the car before setting off to Toddler Jam (an hour of toddler filled chaos dancing and singing). That was fine, but the Little Mister  showed distinct signs of conjunctivitis DURING THE SESSION (and was getting grumpier by the minute) so we had to high tail it out of there. To a pharmacy. Who told us that we would need a prescription for the special eye drops because of the Little Mister’s tender age. So we headed to the doctor’s clinic. Who couldn’t fit us in until later that afternoon. Keep in mind how many times that involves putting him in a car seat and taking him out (right on nap time), plus holding him in my arms when he’s heavy and wriggling. Brought him home for a nap, which went pretty well except for the fact that he was woken by my dog barking at something. We got to the doctor’s on time (after a rushed lunch), only to have to wait 40 minutes in the waiting room. SO WRIGGLY AND GRUMPY FROM A SORE EYE. Back to the pharmacy. Then home. Still no stroller because I’m an idiot.

Despite all that, I finished the day stoked with my efforts. We’d solved the problem (or at least got treatment) and despite being physically exhausted I didn’t feel like melting down or snapping at anyone. I didn’t palm him off onto my husband (who worked late to help us enjoy date night later this week) and I didn’t even want to! I even feel like telling tomorrow to BRING. IT. ON.

There’s no better feeling than the feeling of being mentally strong and knowing you’ve worked hard.

2. Sunshine and the ocean. I could never live anywhere away from the ocean and a sunny climate. When I feel lost or drained, just the sight and the smell of the ocean recharge me. I need to remember this a bit more often.

3. Sleep ins. Duh.

4. Watching the Little Mister grow. His personality cracks me up. There is no joy like watching him as he learns something new. Each day (OK so maybe only 99% of days) is honestly a celebration of SOMETHING.

5. The anticipation before a date night. Date nights are almost unheard of for my husband and I these days. We have had date days and snuggles on the couch with a nice home cooked dinner after the Little Mister has gone to bed, but it’s hard to commit to date nights. This week we’re going to watch Ahn Do’s show – The Happiest Refugee. I couldn’t be more excited. Thanks to my awesome parents, we get a whole day and night to ourselves (and only ourselves) for maybe the first time ever in 18 months. We need to somehow do this more often. I just hope the Little Mister behaves!!

6. My DVR. Seriously. You don’t even understand. It has changed parenthood. If you are able to, before you bring your first baby home, GET A DVR. When you’re up at all crazy hours, you’ll always have something awesome to watch that you chose to record. No weird home shopping network crap in the middle of the night. No missing out on your favourite shows (the ones that start at 9:30pm) because you passed out from exhaustion constantly. I can watch whatever I want whenever I want. I can save all the shows inappropriate for children and watch them by myself at night time. I can pause the TV if the Little Mister wakes up in the night and not miss any of my show/s just because he’s having a tough night. It is seriously one of the best gifts my husband has ever bought for me. I might be MONTHS behind with my favourite shows, but going at my own pace is fine

7. The Little Mister’s cuddles. Nothing makes you feel more important or loved. Especially when his face lights up and he takes a giant run up, like he hasn’t seen you in years. Even though all you did was spend 5 minutes in the kitchen. Ask my husband. The cuddles he gets when he walks in the front door after work are just priceless.

8. Music. My life has to have a soundtrack. I need to sing along badly to something. Music makes the Little Mister so happy. There just has to be music in my life. Music in my car. Live music (I remembered this last weekend).

9. Avocados. Seriously.

10. The supportive people who read my blog regularly. You are all amazing and make me feel like all this is 10 times more fun when there’s someone to share it with. In all honesty, I’d probably blab on about my crazy thoughts regardless, because a part of me just has to, but it is so nice to know that people care. I love my blog readers and I love my blogging friends. Thank you

Of course, I have so many more amazing things in my life, but I think 10 is enough for now

This post was a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge. 

Dear Mum (aka Kez Unprepared) and Dad (Mr Unprepared),

We are very sorry for the latest incident which occurred overnight at our shared residence. As your first babies, we should have known better. We let ourselves get carried away and we deeply regret our actions.

We knew we’d made a bit of a mistake when Mum and that little human you guys keep inside, found us snuggled up at the crime scene this morning. It just felt so bushy and warm. We hope you understand that direct eye contact is a little difficult at this time. We are trying to come to terms with what we have done. We were cold and we can’t help it if our instincts told us to make a nest. Sure, we have a big, spacious kennel out back but in all fairness we destroyed our bed too so we needed alternative accommodation. It’s not ALL our fault, you see. I think it would be only right for you to take some accountability here too. It does take four to tango. Not that we know what a tango is. But it sounds like something people do when they admit their dogs aren’t completely to blame for something that may or may not have allegedly happened. Our lawyer told us to say that.

Our lawyer may or may not be a bug we weren’t fast enough to chomp on.

We know that things don’t look too good for us right now. We realise this isn’t our first offence.

We just hope that you have a heart and that you will forgive us. And please don’t think that this was Blitz’s twisted revenge plot because you didn’t take her to the beach the other day. It totally wasn’t. We know Dad could only take one dog (Heidi) and that tiny human at one time. Something about us getting crazy at the beach? Ever since you got that tiny human, we’ve been feeling a little bit like we’ve been relegated to a life that is filled with a little less attention than usual. Look, we’re not going to throw around words like “neglect” or “RSPCA” but…let’s just say that you might want to reassess. The day is getting closer to the time when dogs learn how to use smart phones and you might want to think about what we might be capable of. That’s not a threat or anything. We’re just sayin’…no need to start getting all worried about “extortion” or “blackmail”…

Much.

Please accept our sincerest apology, because Heidi is a poor orphan dog who was found suffering in the wild (rough childhood) and Blitz is part Labrador. Well, we all know what they’re like. We can’t help it.

We would offer to pay for the damages, but we’re dogs. Dogs don’t have money. Suck it. I mean, sorry.

Kind regards,

Blitz and Heidi. YOUR FIRST PRECIOUS FUR BABIES WHO LOVED AND KNEW YOU LONG BEFORE THAT TINY HUMAN EVER CARED.

PS. The bug lawyer will be sending his bill to you shortly. Because again, dogs don’t have money. Duh.

PPS. LOVE YOU. ALWAYS.

PPS. *LICK LICK LICK* *WAG WAG WAG* (we don’t know how to not love you).

This post was part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge. 

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Sense of humour.

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I don’t wear Crocs. 

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This post is part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.

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A couple of nights ago, I received a very desperate message from a long time friend. She needed someone (namely me) to say yes to helping her out. I needed to attend a music festival with her. For free. Yeah, tough job but someone’s gotta do it. I’ll make that type of sacrifice for a friend any day!

Worst thing was, I had to google the artist line-up because I’m so clueless. Would you imagine my relief when I actually recognised a few bands? However, the reality is being made abundantly clear that I am not cool anymore. This concerns me. The old me would have known the entire back catalogues of these very hip alternative bands. The present day me has no idea. I may have heard a couple of songs from each artist, but only because I saw a music video in passing or heard it on *gasp* commercial radio.

My next thought was…when the hell did I last attend a music festival (to which the answer greatly freaked me out and displeased me) and will we be staying there very late?

OH GOD. I AM OLD AND TIRED.

After I strung out my questions for my friend (just to keep her in suspense), I decided to embrace it. I can find some new music to love – something that I haven’t been keeping up with lately – and I can spend a whole day child free (bless him) with one of my oldest, bestest friends. The day after that is Mother’s Day so I’ll get a sleep in to recover

After all this pondering and big life decision making (it feels like a life changer when you’re very tired), I was asleep by 9:30pm and when I awoke the next morning, I checked the weather forecast for the festival’s location. I wondered what to wear. Must look that up on Pinterest, I told myself. Because that’s what modern mums do.

I then made a realisation (especially after having a rewarding chat on Twitter with a certain someone who totally knows who she is). Being a mum is not unlike being a hipster at a music festival. Basically, the skills (and wardrobe) I use as a mum can easily assist a person in having a great time at a music festival.

Also? Pinterest makes me feel amazing about myself (although I’m not sure if I’m being sarcastic or not right now).

Lank hair, with a few centimetres of regrowth? Check! 

I mean, I haven’t got to the hairdressers in a while. Haven’t had the time or finances. Turns out, in music festival land that is not a problem!

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Leggings (because they’re comfy)? Check!

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Long, flowy tops (because they’re comfy and hide the muffin top)? Check!

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Comfortable shoes? Check!

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Dorky little bags to keep your stuff in? Check! 

I do have my doubts about the bag I have…but I think I can sort it out easily enough…right? Oh, God. I’m gonna look like the world’s biggest try-hard haha.

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Don’t know the lyrics to ALL of the songs? Doesn’t matter. Hipsters always sway along to the music because they’re too cool to sing along. Check! 

So anyway, I must remember to Scotchgard (waterproof) my sneakers. Don’t want them getting wet in any mud puddles from the shower or two that are forecast for the day. I also need to bring a shower proof jacket that also provides a bit of warmth. I love my weather app.

I’ll pack everything we need so it takes up as little space as possible in my bag/car (because I have to be prepared and efficient always). I will probably have plenty of wipes/tissues and other useful paraphernalia (not to be confused with drug paraphernalia – don’t do drugs kids). I’m good at time management (OK so I’m working on it), so we’ll be sure to fit in all the artists we like on the two different stages. If our favourite bands are clashing, I am sure my negotiation and compromise skills will work out well. I’ll make sure we eat properly and I will drive us home in my very safe station sports wagon.

Like a boss mum.

The Little Mister has become fascinated with any tasks that make him feel like he’s one of the big people. I can’t get the vacuum cleaner away from him. Which seemed like a great thing at the time, but now I’m beginning to have my doubts. It takes about 50 hours longer to get the floors clean. It is adorable, though.

The Little Mister loves nothing more than sitting up at the table in a grown up chair and “reading” something. Sometimes it’s the newspaper and yesterday it was my day planner. He thought he was doing something very important

I am convinced that the Little Mister will be a great stay at home dad one day haha. Although, when he was done being tender and nurturing with his teddy bear, he did slam him onto the floor unceremoniously so he could go and trash some magazines.

I hope you enjoyed these rare photos of the Little Mister. I don’t often post images of him on this blog.

This post is a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.

Nope. I didn’t just fall asleep on my keyboard. I’m talking about PUPPP. It stands for (wait for it…) pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy. Yeah. Sounds complicated. I bet most of you have never heard of the damn thing (unless you know me very well via this blog or have actually googled it). Before experiencing this horrible rash first hand, I would have heard such a crazy bunch of words beginning with P and I would have shrugged it off. I don’t really know what that is and who cares, it’s just some rash that I’ll never get (it is believed to only be experienced by an extremely small percentage of pregnant women).

Because hardly anyone suffers from this condition, it was very isolating and difficult to deal with. Each case can differ in how your body responds to the awfully itchy rash, meaning treatments that work for one person might not help another. Odds are, you might not even know what it is when you first show symptoms, if you should be unlucky enough to be a part of the unfortunately exclusive PUPPP club.

I had no idea. I resorted to googling (something I do not normally recommend) when the symptoms got too crazy and I was slow to get answers (partly my fault and partly due to inexperience of some of the doctors I saw early in the piece when my baby doctor was on holiday – of course!). I felt like I knew it was PUPPP, but waiting for an actual professional opinion/diagnosis (and treatment) was like agony.

I was only 20 weeks pregnant when it got bad. Normally women get it at the very end of their pregnancies, meaning there is not long to go before they can give birth (and more often than not be relieved of the symptoms immediately), or can be induced at full term if it’s bad enough.

Yeah. Unlucky.

Pic: Side view of a sufferer’s abdomen.

I spent weeks feeling alone. I couldn’t wear clothes that might itch, sweat or cling to my skin. Difficult in winter. I felt socially isolated and while it’s hard enough to get dressed when you’re big, it was even harder to feel pretty or human with PUPPP. I itched so badly that I was afraid I’d have a panic attack about it in public, so I rarely ventured out before treatment could arrive. Even then, the steroid cream prescribed to me by a dermatologist (who thankfully knew what he was talking about) was greasy and while it helped my rash to settle down a LOT, it gave me pimples too eventually.

I was paranoid about humidity of any kind and it was a huge mental and emotional burden. I never stopped loving the Little Mister who was growing inside of me, but I’d be kidding myself (and you) if I said that I wasn’t close to depression. Bawling my eyes out in a lukewarm bathtub half the day was no life.

Why am I going on about this?

I want everyone to know about this condition. While it may never happen to you (especially if you’re a male reader haha), I want you to know what it is and how to spot it. Just in case.

I also want you to be able to seek help ASAP if you think you may have PUPPP. I didn’t. I put it down to a little heat rash and let myself get worse. If I had sought diagnosis and treatment when it first got a bit uncomfortable, by the time I got answers (it takes a while when no-one’s sure what the hell it is – odds are they may not have dealt with a case first hand very often) I might have saved myself weeks of agony. It is much better to have a false alarm and deal with a doctor who thinks you’re being a little dramatic, than to suffer on your own for too long.

Also, I am writing this post because I want anyone who is friends/family/known to someone who has this condition, to know what it’s like to go through it. I want you to understand that it’s more than a little rash. It can cover half of a woman’s body, is unsightly (therefore embarrassing) and very very uncomfortable and itchy. Think extreme chicken pox (it was like that for me anyhow). Each woman may deal with it differently, but I want you to know how bad it can be. It’s really hard to go through it alone and part of my isolation was worrying that my friends didn’t understand. I couldn’t be at social occasions very often – each day was different and I felt awful and flaky. I worried that they believed I was letting a ‘little thing’ slow me down and that I wasn’t living my life just because I was pregnant. Maybe they thought that, maybe they didn’t. They were amazing friends through it all, but that worry was just something I carried. If I’d known they were able to access great information on PUPPP, I might not have felt so insecure.

It’s hard enough to feel attractive or like you’re living your life fully and actively when you’re quite up the duff. Add complications to that pregnancy and it can be very scary and lonely. I knew that the Little Mister was doing fine inside me – I knew I was blessed even in the rough times. I could have had worse issues (well, besides my gestational diabetes which can be dangerous if untreated). However, try telling a pregnant sufferer of PUPPP that when she can’t sleep AT ALL, feels so itchy she could scratch ALL OF HER SKIN BLOOD RAW,  and lives in a lukewarm bath, waiting for an appointment with a specialist.

I put on a brave face a lot. I wish someone had said, “Lady – I know what that is and you’re fooling no-one. Let me hug you – very gently – while I listen to you whinge about it.”

Also, stop asking a PUPPP sufferer (with scars) if she’s tried bio-oil. No over the counter treatments worked for me (or were permitted during pregnancy depending on ingredients). My skin was sensitive to greasy or oily things (ie the ointment was bad enough). Most of the people who asked me if I’d used bio-oil had never even tried it. The power of advertising, I guess. It’s horrible knowing that almost nothing works. It’s worse when everyone (who’s never heard of the damn condition) suggests treatments for you, which you know will do jacksh*t or even make it worse. You probably mean very well, but you don’t have to be an expert or give advice. A kind, listening ear (and encouragement to seek professional treatment if someone hasn’t already) is probably best.

I was lucky. My symptoms disappeared IMMEDIATELY once the Little Mister had vacated my body. While I had a whole lot of other issues, that was thankfully not one of them. However, the scars and the mental effects stayed for a while. I didn’t want to see another greasy, oily ointment again. I had scars on my chest, which meant I couldn’t dress nicely over summer, without feeling like I was an acne ridden teen with chest pimples (no-one wants to see those). I was sensitive to heat, mentally and physically. It took a YEAR before I felt like I could bare my upper chest without a big ol’ necklace or high neckline to hide behind. Progress can be slow.

I am very fortunate to have a very healthy, hilarious and good natured 18 month old today, who has no idea of the hell he put me through during pregnancy! I intend to let him know during his teenage years, though In all seriousness, that (him being in my life happy and healthy) is what matters most and what got me through a tough time. PUPPP is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. It felt worse than the diabetes and worse than the infection that brought on my labour. It was worse than dealing with the healing from a C-section. Itching is seriously a form of torture. Some people handle it better than others and I will be the first to admit that I was not handling it, despite my best efforts.

There is help and support out there, but it’s important to start looking early. I’m not trying to scare anyone. I’m just trying to bring awareness to it.

I found a dermatologist who dealt with a lot of pregnancy cases. I highly recommend you seek out an experienced specialist and get the ball rolling with referrals etc fast. Also, know that it isn’t your fault. We are all quick to judge these days. It’s easy to believe that a woman having a tough pregnancy must just be a Negative Nancy or probably did something to cause her condition, because it makes us feel like we have control over our own circumstances, but during pregnancy all bets are off. You can do your best and still have some hurdles to deal with. Don’t let ignorant people bring you down.

Pregnancy is stressful enough.

So please, my hope is that if you have read this you will be a proactive sufferer, in order to make your time as a beautiful (you still are) pregnant woman a little easier. If you hear of a friend or relative having this condition, I hope that you will now know just how severe it can be and treat them with the extra love and care they deserve. A great support network can make the difference between a surviving some tough times, and depression.

Feel free to share this post and PLEASE do not be in denial. No-one wants to know about the crap things that can happen when you’re pregnant, but information is power and might save you a lot of suffering (I speak from experience).

Love and light,

Kez xo

If you have experienced this, please contact me or leave a comment – I would love for you to share your stories.

This post is a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.

I thought about how I have a fear of being rejected or misrepresented. I get really angsty when someone has got me all wrong or wants to smear my good name. Or even threaten to. I’m generally a pretty good person and the idea of someone either not recognising that or being willing to paint me as a not so good person does freak me out. I mean, I’m not a perfect person, but I’m not a bad person with ill intent. If something’s true, I’ll cop to it even if it hurts like hell. I just won’t stand for being misjudged or misunderstood. However, I don’t know if I’d strictly call this a fear so much as insecurity. I think there’s a slight difference.

I then thought that perhaps I have a fear of writing this blog post because it could get pretty deep and revealing pretty fast. So do I have a fear of being vulnerable? Of people judging me for my deepest feelings? Perhaps.

Could I just write a funny post about being scared of the Little Mister not napping enough or the weird dream I told my husband about (he may tell you he was under duress), where we found people living in our roof space, but it was OK in the end because we sent them away in a minivan? You know, to avoid writing about my truest fears?

I decided to ask my husband what he thought my biggest fears are. I thought I’d get a joke answer back, to be honest. But what he said rang very true.

“I think your biggest fear would be losing the Little Mister.”

Yep. There it is.

It’s the one place that I cannot let my mind fully go to. It is just too hard to comprehend. The pain would be so awful. The broken dreams too heartbreaking. To suddenly have the best thing in your whole wide world taken from you. Gut wrenching wouldn’t even cover it. I know that you grieve and you never get over it, but that hopefully with love and support you learn to accept it and live with it – people have to do it all the time – but I just hope and pray that I never ever have to know this pain.

I can’t even type any more about this, because I am lucky enough today to not have to go there and I choose not to because of my fear.

In saying that, I don’t let this fear rule me. I look after the Little Mister and I try to protect him as best I can, but I don’t want to be paranoid or always thinking something bad is going to happen (if you do, please ask somebody for help).

I feel so blessed that despite having fears that range from the silly (spiders) to the deep and truly scary (losing the Little Mister), I do not have to live in fear daily. I think fear is a very natural part of life – a certain amount can be healthy, but I am so glad that my fears do not cripple me or stop me from living my life. I don’t want to be scared of things that have not happened yet.

It’s hard work being brave, isn’t it?

What are you most afraid of? 

This post is a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.