Ooh Baby Baby…

Annnnd…i’m back, equipped with my ‘va voom,’ totally free from preggo pukiness and ready to wiggle my way to good old victory. Yeah, yeah, Hollywood….baby-b’boo. (Pointless mouthful for you, before 10am. Might seem foolish, yet i’m sure a great deal of you endured a lot worse of a ‘pointless mouthful’ this freezing cold, ‘snowed for a bit’ weekend.

I’m feeling happy and when i’m happy, the world is my playground. AND get this, i’m happy and STILL completely teeeeee-total. Who’da thought that such a thing would be physically possible. But yes, i’m a champion and a much better person than i actually ever thought. You really should be worshipping me, or something. (Who’s throwing eggs?’) As you can see life is good when you’re not sick. Or maybe it’s the fact that when you’re sick you realize how helpless you are and find a healthy day a great deal more precious than ever before. However, i’ll shut up now and get to telling you about my past. You’ll like it…i tell you all the time.

Okay, so DRUNKS love me. I don’t know why? I don’t know how? But they do. Infact, no, not just drunks…but all misfits…all those feeling lost in a party blur or on a downward elevator to ‘Rock bottom,’ fast. If there is ever a friend, who is being a drunk, or a druggie, or a being drowning their sorrows via the art of foolish McParty….their one phone call, during the midst of their fall, (like when they are properly fucked) is to me.

Now, i don’t know whether people feel comforted by me, when they’re doing something bad, because i’ve been hailed as one of the most non judgmental people you will ever know..and we all know i’ve been there. I’ve been a twat most of my 20’s…(hang on, someone’s trying to show me a video of their bungee jump- revert to previous blog.)

Sorry, i’m back. But yeah anyway…now i’m old, i’m way more judgemental, because i’m all grown up now and have stopped being foolish. Meaning, i’m actually a really bad person for a ‘partier’ to call, during their ‘moment’ of destruction. I was laid in bed, with my Baby Rubes, and my phone began ringing. I answered incase the caller was in actual trouble. But now, the caller was just off their face and wanting to ‘talk.’ Now, i’m 31 i have no time for such a call. Lol. I don’t even try to listen or pretend to like it. My world was peaceful and filled with utter harmony and i felt as though the other end of the phone was in some ‘hell’ like situation of ‘blur’ and trying to bring me into their mess. So after a few ‘yeah yeah’s’..and then them trying to begin a pointless fight with me…i hung up and put my phone on silent. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m good like that. That night and the next day, i had almost 22 missed calls and texts in total from that poor being, who just felt what they called ‘lost’ via voicemail, but i call ‘fucked.’ Wunna land got back to ‘peaceful’ and we all lived happily ever after. Hurrah. Cups of tea for everyone. That morning, Ruby and I had to wake up at 5am, to get her to her ‘Baby of the year’ final. Neither of us are keen on an early morning….and neither of us are keen on drunk phone calls at 1.29am, when you have a 5am alarm set. Ouchy. Moral of the story, for those of you who are off your face, out and having fun, who think of me, out of joy. I am truely grateful. However you can really just text me and i won’t reply. ๐Ÿ™‚ For those of you who are out and lost, and not realy in any trouble. I’m way judgemental now, so i’m your worst call, if i have a 5am wake up call. ๐Ÿ™‚ Learn it. *Wiggle-wink* (Even if you’re only calling to tell me that you love me.) I prefer a TEXT.

Okay, so that Baby thing. As you know, Ruby was in the final of the ‘Baby Model of the Year’ competition and we had to travel all the way ย Norwich to go compete for her title. She got into the final, but didn’t win. However, we weren’t at all disappointed with the result, i mean, she’s ONE, yet i did learn a very big lesson and that is that one year olds, should NEVER be woken up by their mothers at 5am in the morning, and driven on a 3 hour journey to compete, smile, and pout for a camera and a panel, EVER! Lesson learnt.

Even though she performed well, and was her utterly charming self, she hated every minute of it. I mean, at first she thought she was at a childrens party, that began with a blond one year old. snatching a book off her. ๐Ÿ™‚ However, as the day sank in, she realized that this was not going to be fun anymore. All the mums and families were in a marquee attached to a hotel, with studio sets up in various corners, there was a magician, toys and a giant Peppa pig for entertainment, yet nothing really catered for babies.

The place was filled with showbizzy mums, normal mums and hoards and hoards of kiddies in pretty dresses, being groomed and primped for their moment. Every single ‘Wunna’ had managed to get up at 5 am to get there to support Baby Ruby. (I love that about my family, no matter what we’re there for one another, through thick and thin. Through heart attacks and baby modelling comps. ๐Ÿ™‚ ) But yes, i already didn’t love it. However, Ruby seemed chipper. She was already in her dress and crawling all over the floor, giggling with excitement. We were meant to take our babies to each studio set to have a set of photos taken to be judged.

Okay firstly, all i know is that Babies, children and even adults at times, do not like waiting in queues. Holy innappropriateness. All the mums where stood at each set, in long lines and with angry irriated babies, screaming and trying to wiggle back to the toy corner for ages. It was AWFUL. There were mums who were grooming and mouthing words at their one year olds and mums that just really wanted their kiddie winkle to do well.

Ruby got to her first set, after waiting for 20 minutes all angry and irritated, i plonked her by the sofa, where she was asked to pose and look adoring and she SCREAMED her head off, in a ‘DIVA’ and wanted to go back into the other room where it was cooler and not so sweaty. (The room was BOILING.) All the mums where glaring at me, with dodgy eyes and had been doing that ‘Hilton-Hilton’ whisper thing all morning to one another. Yet instead of forcing her to sit, smile and be a showbizzy gem, i looked at the photographer and within a second said, ‘she doesn’t want to do it, we’ll come back later, she wants to play.’

She played and loved the moments where she wasn’t being forced to do anything and eventually managed to get all her pictures done. There was no food for kiddies, long waits, too much heat and pushy mums and i just felt so bad for her, that i almost wanted to leave.

Hours and i mean hours went by ans she was starving. All the kids were, yet their mums were still hair spraying them and glittering them down. Each child had to adorn 3 outfits, a casual one, a fancy dress and an evening party dress. Then they would be judged and finally get to go home. Ruby actually aced all that, yet i looked in her eyes and could just see that the excitement had been drained from her.

Six hours of this finally passed and my little girl just wanted a nap. I skipped out on the judging to give her a cuddle and a sleep. Bless her. As soon as we left the building her heart lit up with joy and she skipped all the way to the car, That’s how much she wanted out of there. So in true Wunna style we spoiled her, to make her feel better and well to make us feel better. I felt awful for putting her through that, so i felt that i needed to buy her affection out of guilt. (This happens when you’re a mum.)

In the car home she giggled and snag and popped out of her shell with utter happiness. We gifted her with toys, and sang to her. She wanted a McDonalds, she wanted love and good times. I had never seen her so happy to be literally out of a place before, that i vowed never ever to put her through that again. Yeah she’s cute. Yeah she can be a baby model. When you go to an agency or an audition, you’re in there 10 minutes max and if they book the job, the entire production is catered for you bambino. A loong day of waiting, no food and pageant primping in nothing like what it’s actually like in the real world and not at all for my little loin fruit, in my mind. ย But i learnt my little lesson and well i guess you do, don’t you. I don’t know how the other mums could do it? Maybe it’s their own passion, or their own dreams of stardom that make them push their little babies into it? I always thought i would be that way…but i surprised myself. I’m not at all. Yipppeeee!!!!

Next blog later today…need to pop out and errand run.

Lots to tell you about the good old love life…;)

 

 

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