15 Signs you are not Normal…
I was getting comfy in bed.
Doing that arse wiggle you do, where you shuffle and bounce around, trying to find the idyllic lean position that perfectly compliments the hand to eye to phone ratio.
The illusive position that enables at least 2 hours of elbow pain free Facebook stalking.
I am addicted to facebook. I am not even going to try and hide it. It is an illness.
Anyhoo, no sooner had I got settled when I stumbled across this little gem of an article.
The link to which is here; http://metro.co.uk/2015/06/29/15-signs-youve-found-the-one-5253420/?ito=facebook
Opening my caramel ice cream bar and smoothing down the covers over my growing bump (I am not pregnant by the way, before you start congratulating me, I am just a summer stress eater) I began to read.
And then I began to stress eat. (Told you.)
Basically Metro, what you are saying is, I have not found the man I am going to marry yet?!?
And… I have husband….
Well this is awkward.
Not one to take defeat lying down, I stomped down the stairs grabbed another caramel bar out of the freezer and decided to write my own version.
I have decided to call this helpful article;
15 signs you know you have met the man you married.
1. They’ve seen you at your worst – and they still think you’re the best.
‘Irish one! Irish one! Have I shit on the table? Have I shit on the goddamn table?’
A midwife swishes away a huge piece of what can only be described as crêpe paper, (read: crap paper) from under my struggling buttcheeks and disappears around the table I am lying on like a huge slab of meat, towards a big yellow bin with a bio-hazard sign on the side. Oh the horror, the horror!
‘Did I just shit on the fecking table?’ I ask him one last time, mortified by the none-stop glamour experience labour has been up until this point… ‘Stop staring out of the fecking window and tell me!’
The Irish one does not make eye contact with me for the following three years whenever this subject comes up.
He did buy me a wii- fit though, following the birth, to help me lose that extra baby weight.
So thoughtful, I told him, as I launched it at his head.
2. Your worst parts are his favourite parts.
‘Do my thighs look thick?’
‘Thick?’ his eyes flick nervously to my thighs and back to my face. ‘Thick?’
‘Yeah. Thick. It is the new in word for curvy I think. Like, Beyonce has thick thighs.’
He stares at me with a tinge of fear in his eyes, a slight stress dew cumulating on his top lip.
‘Well?’ I put my hand on my hip. ‘Do I look thick in this or not?’
‘Yes.’ he says very definitely, evidently having chosen his answer and feeling most determined to stick to it. ‘Yes you look like one thick bitch.’
Charming. I glower like a campfire.
‘There was no right answer to that question Lexy! You just wanted an argument!’ and we both storm off in different directions.
Him to play the PS4, me to cry in to my thick thighs.
3. They don’t judge your eating habits.
The freezer door slams.
‘Have you eaten all the caramel bars already for fecks sake?!’
‘Are you calling me fat?’
‘If you have eaten 3 caramel bars in an hour then ….’ he trails off as I clutch my heart and pull my mock hurt face ‘… I will have an apple.’
4. They put up with your insufferable mood swings.
We can’t talk about the last one, it is all still a bit too raw.
Needless to say I apologised to the lady dressed as Tinkerbell while he assured her she didn’t need to call the french fairy police, or whatever.
But in my defence, how was I supposed to know she was trying to blow Addy ‘a wish?!?’
Any woman would have seen that and thought the same.
That fucking fairy is flirting with my husband.
‘I don’t care if she is a fairy Irish One!!! Any woman would act the same. Flirt with my husband and i’ll rip the fairytale right out of you.’
He shakes his head and increases his speed as I run along side the buggy trying to keep up.
5. They support your tacky taste in films.
‘Want to watch pitch perfect 2 with me tonight?’
‘Fuck right off.’
Well ok then.
6. They are nice to your family, even the weird members.
I don’t think this one counts.
I am the weird member in my family…
7. They like you even when you don’t like you.
‘Oh my god I can’t believe I started on a fairy. I am such a horrible person.’
‘I can’t believe you ate all the caramel ice cream bars.’
‘Irish one! You are supposed to like me even when I don’t like me!’
‘Remember what your therapy taught you. You aren’t always a bad person, just every now and again… or something.’
I spit my tea out.
‘You mean, just because you do a bad thing doesn’t make you a bad person?’
8. They happily listen to your work dramas and pretend to care.
‘Fuck those daft bitches. State of them. What’s for tea?’
9. They want to do spontaneous things with you.
‘You never wanna do spontaneous things with me Irish One.’
‘I do. I am always grabbing your boobs while you wash up. You always tell me to get lost!!’
Do I need to go on?
10. Whatever your doing together, you’re happy.*
*Terms and conditions apply. If we are abroad, and fed, and not on a time limit, the washing up has been done, neither one of us has been up all night, it is the day after payday, the child is behaving, nothing has been spilt, he is not hungry and I am not on – then yes… maybe. Unless there is football on, it is too hot, there are crumbs on the sofa or Addy needs a bath, the dog hasn’t been out yet and the car needs petrol.
11. You’ve planned your lives together.
‘Shall we go back to Disney one day?’
‘Jesus Christ what is that smell?’
12. You get excited about buying them things.
‘What is the budget for xmas this year?’
‘Please don’t ever buy me another barbed wire-esque toilet seat.’
‘Oh for the love of god are you ever going to let that drop? You said you liked the ones in Rain Bar!’
13. Being drunk together is actually fun.
No. No it really isn’t. Ok well, sometimes it is. But… Terms and Conditions apply.
‘It is fun until the vomiting starts.’ The Irish one thinks he is funny.
I need to make one thing clear here, I am not sick all the time. Just sometimes.
‘Just when you drink…’
I am ok on gin.
‘Except for when you aren’t… and then everything is my fault.’
Let’s move on.
14. You couldn’t picture your life without them.
I probably could in all fairness.
I wouldn’t want to live my life without him but I could picture it.
It would be a life with significantly less washing up, no constant ‘are we having another baby or can we go back to Disney World’ arguments, and a lot more TV time for me.
I wouldn’t want it though, just to clarify.
Well not all the time anyway.
15. They Love you for you.
‘Nobody wants to be the bloke that dumped his mentally ill wife.’
‘Oh.My.God I cannot believe you said that!’
Well this is awkward.
From the award winning blogger Mammywoo, pegged by The guardian as ‘the one to watch’ comes a new hilariously funny and deeply moving memoir about dealing with mental illness while still reeling from the Magic of Birth.
Lexy wanted to be the perfect mother, she wrote this down numerous times in her planner (ok she doesn’t own an actual planner, but the back of an unpaid bill still counts right?) Her journey through motherhood would be calm and serene. No dummies, no drama and she would most definitely slip back in to her pre- pregnancy wardrobe, immediately!
What could possibly go wrong?
From accidentally breastfeeding the dog to romantic laxatives, therapy and beyond, this is an honest, very real and sometimes quite disturbing tale of woe, set in the wilderness of what was meant to be a year spent relaxing, with a baby.
Now available to read across all platforms.
Barnes and noble, nook, kindle, and iBooks. It’ll be in print this week. iBooks is a dream come true. A dream come true. All hail apple formatting. Here is the link-
I Used to be Cool.. by Lexy Ellis
All Paperback and Kindle Proceeds are being paid to MIND. Mental health charity.