Honest K

MASKING INSECURITIES WITH HUMOUR AND SARCASM SINCE 1987

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  • Depression parenthood

    I want to believe

    / February 13, 2018 / 13 Comments

    I want to believe I am the best thing since sliced bread. I want to believe every heart felt word or encouragement from my partner’s mouth. I want to believe I am the best mum for my…

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  • Honestk family love toddler

    The Jess Song

    / October 12, 2017 / 3 Comments

    I wrote a song for Jess, in no way shape or form is it inspired or a rip off of John Legend's 'All of me' ....okay, it is.

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  • Birth Trauma

    / August 30, 2017 / 20 Comments

    Every now and then, when I have one of my depression roller-coasters, that ultimately end up with me breaking down, crying, frustrated at life, Dave and I always come together. We sit and we talk to each…

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  • birthday celebration honestk humour

    30 Things…..that should be made EXPLICITLY clear when having a child

    / August 29, 2017 / 8 Comments

    Continuing with the 4 month long run up to my big 3-0 celebrations (previous 30 things), I have complied a list of 30 things that should be known to expectant parents. Maybe there should be some kind…

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  • Parenting class 101: John wick

    / August 8, 2017 / 5 Comments

    Life lessons from film. I think we could all learn alot about not raising horror children based Hollywood.

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  • Boobies! Ya’ll need to simmer on the feeding baby debates.

    / August 1, 2017 / 13 Comments

    I came across an interesting news post  –  Doctors call for pupils to be taught about breastfeeding. I love a good baby, sex, race, gender related post, you know the comments are going to be good for…

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  • So, now I’m back from Embo-space

    / July 27, 2017 / 5 Comments

    You better sing that title otherwise you'll ruin my (poor) attempts at song humour

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  • Poo-scapades

    / July 12, 2017 / 5 Comments

    Think yourself SERIOUSLY lucky I refrained against pulling my camera out to document this wonderful occasion.

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  • Some choice words you have there Jess…

    / July 10, 2017 / 10 Comments

    WARNING - There are naughty words in this post, but don't worry they aren't from me. They are from my 22 month old blaspheming toddler.

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Instagram post 2176378396967570091_3452711602 Society loves a title. Now I'm unemployed, what am I? A SAHM? Na. It's not for me. I've never liked the term. It has been used to throw shade and judgement, it has been used to draw battle grounds. It has also been used for strong, proud, self growth reasons. I avoid it. I have a serious stick up my arse about being a parent and it taking my identity. I was a research scientist for 7 years, but I didnt live and breathe science. I am a parent, but I don't accommodate who I am around it. As a mum, I've been told it must define me, my body and my outlook. And I fucking hate that shite. So it's a hard pass on the SAHM title for me. The other huge reason I hate it, is being at home terrifies me. It ate me alive during Mat leave the first time. It comes with chores I fight for equality in. Money dependence when I've always had money autonomy. Traditional roles that make my toes curl and I rebel against. Boredom and loneliness. The societal pressure to be 'doing' something, else you are a lady of 'leisure' or 'kept'. Working full time, we had thoughts of creating an easier work/home balance. Now those scales have tipped and there is no balance. Just home. It's forever bothered me that people ask 'what do you do?'as if it summarises a person. Most people use it as a dick measuring competition. Some people are genuinely curious. Either way, I've always hated it and rarely ask it. My employment gave me independence, I've never been without that. Society weaves employment into who we are and ourself worth. When in reality we should create that. But it was still a blow for my 'title' to be removed, as if a part of me was being removed. For those that willingly made that leap, I admire your inner strength. Fuck knows I struggled for weeks with it. Theres far more to a person than being summed up with the words SAHM, or any work title. I took for granted my title, it was easy to justify who I am behind 'scientist'. No more self justification needed. I look forward to the next time someone asks 'what do you do?'. I'm not sure how I will reply or if I will, honestly. I'll add it to the pile of 'shit you don't ask people and heres why'. #itdoesntneedtodefineyou
Instagram post 2174979828000160803_3452711602 She's on me, she's near me, she needs me, she's talking at me, she's asking I watch her dance. She wriggles and jumps as I, exhausted and done, get her ready for bed. I snap and I know I shouldn't. But look at that image, look at our proximity. Shes on me. My body aches, I'm 25 weeks pregnant and my sides feel on fire. That apple was a fight, I say no you didn't eat your dinner, she says she's hungry and I reiterate the lack of dinner eating. I cave and it pisses me off. No one is bad or wrong here. It's 7pm and mum is done. Patience has left. And now she sits on me when I want space. She speaks when I want quiet. She demands attention for bedtime rituals when I want my time. She goes to bed and the sporting highlights are on TV. I don't want it either. I don't want to 'wait' anymore for my time to begin. I feel selfish and needy. I'm done listening and entertaining the wants of others. This frame of mind is not healthy, it's frustrated and huffy. It's a daily occurrence while I'm pregnant. And I know and forgive myself for it. Why are you so snappy? Why are you so angry? I'm tired. I'm beyond tired actually. I've been a maid to others for what seems like the whole day. I know it's trivial and the exhaustion warps the reality. But I'm done and I need this child out my face. I need everyone out my face. I need the baby not to kick and make me feel squeamish. I want to be me and free for a day. I can't think like that, I need to take each day as it comes. Breathe deep and relax. Feeling trapped is an anxious place. I need to keep my head. When you see me snap, theres more going on than trying to dress the kid. She's not the issue. People snap when they are stretched, my stretch is daily right now. And it's ok to say so. #25weekspregnant #maternalmentalhealth #postnatal #motherhoodmoments #mothering #frustration #reality #ineedspace
Instagram post 2172797870309450024_3452711602 Pushing the limits eh? Jess is going through a bit of a smart arse phase with me lately. One of these days I'm going to replace the sofa cushions with rocks and she how funny she finds bouncing on the sofa then. Sorry, how funny her 'just sitting' on the sofa is. Image repost from @momof1anddone #donttestapregnantlady #wisecrack #smartarse #sitthefuckdown #funnymeme #parenthood_moments #parentfunny #parentingonfleek #parentmeme #shewillregretit #thatwillteachher #4yo #thinksshesfunny
Instagram post 2169860929822885312_3452711602 Sayonara feet, see you in 2020. Say hello to my vagina for me, as she is also MIA. Or she ran away after a brutal hacking attack. Or she ran away after karma gave her a lesson due to me sending my friends GRAPHIC birthing pictures to freak them out. That well and truly backfired. #RIPfeet #RIPvagina #orwhatsleftofit #birthbelike #youwant4labiarips #orjustthe3 #whatwillthisbabydo #shouldnthavesentthosepics #vaginasreallystretch #seriously #itswild #whyamidoingthis
Instagram post 2166890339323200273_3452711602 By crazy, I mean batshit crazy, not derogatory crazy 🤦‍♀️ Jesus. Do you know how hard it is for me to make a video without swearing? Really fucking hard. I'd buy a ticket just to watch me sweat for 18 minutes trying to hold back my 'fuck offs' and 'pile of shits'. There's so many incredible speakers that it's impossible not to get imposter syndrome. But I'll be there! Ranting my expanding tits off about PND and telling people what it's really like, not just the 'low and sad' feelings described on symptoms pages. Saying the shit many parents keep hidden and keeping them isolated. We don't need to feel this way ❤ And I sacrifice swearing for a whole 18 minutes to spread this message. #thatslove Tickets available at @tedxcumbernauldwomen #tedxwomen2019 #tedxspeaker #tedxcumbernauldwomen #tedx #tedxtalks #postnataldepression #mentalhealthawareness
Instagram post 2166837950402783715_3452711602 Might look like an innocent little pumpkin, but this thing is pulsing out guilt and frustration vibes. Clearly, it's not been carved. Jess hasn't even asked. But I feel like I'm not fulfilling my role of making life as fucking magical as it can be for her, with each day passes that it's still there. You know and I know that's a crock of shit. I look at the orange ball and mentally remind myself to carve it 'later'. In reality, I don't want to. My go to mood at the moment is snappy, no chill, on edge, not internally at peace. I know cutting and cleaning that thing up will piss me off, just like baking cakes did. It's not fun for anyone when mum is in quick savage mode, and I've apologised enough for the last 2 weeks. We preach about kindness and self love. I'm trying. But I'm frustrated. The huge shift of becoming unemployed and being in the place I fear the most, the home, is starting to manifest in my actions and mood. I knew it would. After all this time, I still don't know how to stop or appease it. Other than avoiding stressors, like a fucking pumpkin. It's easy to say, chill, don't worry, make the mess and carve the pumpkin. For me, that's like telling an anxious person theres no need to be anxious. Fucking pointless and not helpful. I can only get my chill when I'm content and happy. I've lost it right now and I'm searching how to get it back. I'm lost and frustrated, while trying to 'enjoy' this free time that so many of us crave, myself included. The pressure to do or provide or just simply validate myself is crushing at the moment. We place so much pressure on people to be 'doing' that in turn, doing nothing is stressful. It's just a pumpkin. Until you've been starting at it for 2 weeks wondering why you have zero fucking want to carve it. #mentalhealth #depression #halloweenmemories #cankissmyass #lifechanges #glasgowblogger #pregnantlife #24weekspregnant #mentalstruggle #pumpkinseason #motherhoodmoments #postnataldepressionawareness
Instagram post 2165361416588285801_3452711602 The fruit bowl is getting out of hand. (I'm fucking kidding, we do own and eat fruit. This is the fruit bowl, but don't come at me. The fact that mums feel like they need to add in a disclaimer says a lot. About my temperament and society) #stillontheragehormonesisee #pregnancylife #pregnantlife #pregnantproblems #giesasnack #thatporkisnymine #nasty #loveheartsgivemewind #sodoeseverything #notsorry #baskinmyownglory #homebrand #sexy
Instagram post 2163863415470473690_3452711602 Absolutely no issues with standing infront of complete strangers and divulging my deepest inners, but don't ask me to take a fucking selfie for the event - that gave sweaty bum, heart palpitations! I hate when people say it gets better, you get better, time will heal, you'll find your way. For some it does, for some it doesn't. Mental healing requires pain and awareness. It's a difficult journey and not a destination. The pain of PND will never leave me. It drives me to learn and improve. It fills my stomach with sadness when I see others struggling, needless struggling with isolation and self hate. Being trapped and alone in your own mind is one of the tallest burdens a person can bear. And I hate it. That's why on the 5th of Dec I am more than happy to stand infront of an audience and drill it home that you are not alone in your mind, people do care, depression can warp perceptions and it's ok to say it. You might have said or done some shitty things. You might have snapped and raged at your kid, been spiteful or just couldn't be near them. It's not ok, but it's normal and it's a reflection of your mental health and not you. We don't need to and we shouldn't internalise mental health, it is not who we are. My heart wrenches at the internal fight of others. I want to hug them and tell them it's ok, I see you. I see myself in each person and the pain resonates. It pisses me off we are so ignorant to ourselves and others. We don't need to be so harsh on ourself. And if it takes for me to go on stage and tell people that I really hated my newborn baby, that I resented my partner, that I really fucking questioned my place here, just to make one person aware and less alone. Then it's a no brainer. We need to continue to share and pull back the stigma on mental health. I don't own my journey, depression rode that horse. But I do own how I healed, to be in a place to share. That shit was all me and I won't let depression silence me again. #empowered • • • • • Our newest addition to #tedxcumbernauldwomen lifts the taboo around #postnataldepression! Honest, harrowing, liberating! #pnd @honestkirsty @mentalmums #tedxwomen #tedxspeaker #tedxtalks #tedx #tedxwomen2019
Instagram post 2160412347095974211_3452711602 I feel very lonely in pregnancy. Not everyday, but some. Being easy to tire and becoming a second priority in my own body, my mind can become low and crave just a little bit of peace. The toll of baby growing is often masked or over looked, we don't appreciate the aches and tired pains of the mum, let alone the impact of it on her mental health. It's normal, like a sniffy nose with a cold. To be expected. We almost dismiss her and expect her to get on with it. Which we do. Sometimes at a cost. I throughly enjoy being pregnant this time. I love the squirms and kicks. I love the excitement of a new chapter and challenges. By the nature of being the baby baker, I cannot forget I'm pregnant. But others can. They can have fleeting moments of forget that I cannot. I don't want them either. Although, the constant pregnancy adjustments and kicks can at times be isolating. Maybe some of the loneliness comes from apprehension of the future. As I lay on my side at night, while everyone sleeps, my spleen is a trampoline and my mind races. I wonder why I feel lonely during a time when I'm literally never alone. But then I remember I am almost on pause while everyone else goes about life. That I do have worries and fears that are reminded with each elbow in the bladder. There's no peace for me, no ebbing the excitement that I want to share and no dismissing niggles of the mind, no ignoring flashbacks of PND. If I do share them I'm met with 'but you're pregnant' which forces me speak louder and angrier or become silent, both of which can be isolating as if I should just accept what's going on, it's all part of the ride. And it is. But I still feel and hurt like I did before. The baby isn't a magical being that wipes out emotions. My body makes it physically impossible to act like I did before. Combined with mental fuckery, some days it can wear me down and make me feel left out, alone and like I'm the only one going through this pregnancy. #22weekspregnant #mentalhealing #mentalhealthinpregnancy #mentalhealth #lonliness #secondbaby #newlife #motherhoodunplugged #motherhood #parenthood_moments #pregnantlife #realityofpregnancy #pregnancyafterdepression #pregnantworries
Instagram post 2156773128076163336_3452711602 I don't buy into all that #makingmemories propaganda. I find it competitive, stressful, and at times fake. Memories can be false, told to us and manipulated. It's feelings that count. That's the real impact we leave on our children and other people. My child is my equal. I'm less of a parent and more a guide for Jess. Because I'm far from perfect and even if I believed so, that's subjective. Jess is not me. I don't want her to be me. She is her own person, we share DNA and traits, but we are separate people. I don't own her nor have the right to imprint my perceptions, to an extent. I've never understood the traditional parenting perspective to be seen and not heard. A child is a human, an innocent one, that deserves the same respect as any other human. And in some cases more. I can tell Jess the basic right and wrong, don't hurt others and be kind to yourself. But I draw the line there. What is important is that my kid feels respected and heard. That she can tell me off for being rude, point out my flaws without fear of retribution. That when she is hurt, I kneel down and listen to her why. I never want to silence her. I never want my own needs to replace hers. I never want her to feel that she is not enough. No one is above the law in a parent child relationship. That's a dangerous and unhealthy stance to take. I hope my daughter only remembers good feelings in years to come. I hope she continues to grow and teach me about the world. I hope she always knows and feels her worth. And I hope she can always express it knowing it will be met with love and kindness. #respect #mumanddaughter #childrensmentalhealth #childrensmentalhealthmatters #familylife #healing #newbeginnings #speaktoyourkids #listentoyourkids #healthykidsarehealthyadults #mentalhealthwarrior #mentalhealth
Instagram post 2151562893946291261_3452711602 We don't know the thoughts of a person, but we see their actions. What we do with this is a reflection of our inner thoughts and can have a great impact on others. People don't owe you shit. We don't give to recieve or to earn friendship points. Some people are preoccupied with life, stress, depression, anxiety, making it through the day, possibly wearing a mask. Hiding their true self. They may lash out, test, avoid or punish you. They may tell you they know they are doing this or you may see signs of mental illness that they cannot. We can tell friends or family, we are worried, but we should never hold people to standards or grudge a 6 month lapse in communication. We don't need to understand or know intimate details of a person to give them reassurance that you will always be there for them. Be there for people by allowing them to just be. Pressure and guilt wreck those that suffer from mental health. We don't have the energy to battle all fronts. Having a friend that picks up from the last chat and bypasses their own perception to understand ours is priceless. Understand that relationships aren't built on how much you see someone or how often they speak with you. They are built on how we treat people. They are built on how we want to view them. No one owes you the inane 'how are you' message just to keep in touch or to attend that visit that's been scheduled for weeks. We owe people the ability to be what they need to be for as long as they need to be. Occasionally, we take the punches. Someone needs to, being supportive to those battling mental health isn't easy. But that still doesn't mean they owe you anything. Relationships and kindness are invaluable. Always question your own mind before judging others. It takes little to not be a dick and accept maybe that person is trying to navigate their way through something right now. Just be there for people if you can. . #worldmentalhealthday #depression #anxiety #mentalhealth #supportyourfriends #letpeoplebe #friendship #relationships #familylife #speakout #nojudgement
Instagram post 2149556113603123700_3452711602 This time, I feel more excited. Not to say I wasnt excited the first time round. The first time we had a naive idea of parenthood, not knowing what was to come. No one can know until they take the leap. As much as we watched friends and family become parents, theres an element of understanding you only get once you become parents. Like many, we had rose tinted glasses on. And again, like many, those glasses quickly became tarnished with reality and (un)healthy lashings of PND. This time, still somewhat naive as parents to one child, I know there is unknown stresses to come. The difference is, this time I know there is love to come. Even if I have to fight for it again, there will be all consuming love and contentment in our family. The love so strong it makes you pick the kid over the partner in the game of 'who would you save from the fire'. The love that makes you both groan and cherish the 6am snuggles. The love that makes you want to slow time just to enjoy the years you can hug them tight and kiss their forehead as they sleep. The love that is terrifying and beautiful all at once. I didn't know this first time around. This time, whatever happens, I know it's worth the struggle. Darkness will end, and the reward is more than worth it. . #20weekspregnant #PND #newbaby #mumof1 #mumof2 #mentalhealing #glasgowblogger #scottishblogger #pregnantlife #pregnantbelly #pregnancylife #mentalhealthinpregnancy #prenatalmentalhealth
Instagram post 2146650601647587661_3452711602 I've been waiting for this day! And here it is!!!!! The day my child draws a phallic-esque picture at nursery! I am delighted with her artwork. She went for an almost chode effort with 2 balls and umm...a wide peep hole I guess 🤷‍♀️ Top marks for colour selection, other than the blue diagnosable fungal infection shes added. Aw Jess, you've done me proud. . . No idea what its 'meant' to be. I don't want her to ruin my moment here. It's a penis picture and that's the way it's staying. . #topmarksforthechode #chubby #butballsy #4yoartist #kidsartwork #miniartist #proudmaw #bestday #boabyart #boabyastic #soimmature #butitlookslikeaboaby #parentinghighlights #moantheboaby
Instagram post 2145258979479361677_3452711602 Least we forget, the 4000 mile trip for a face like a slapped arse when faced with your fave Disney princess. (Can't believe I didn't share my fave snap with our fave princess!) #disneybelike #disney #disneymagic #where? #myidol #bellenotjess #grumpytits #waltdisneyworld #expensiveshitpics #makingmemories #andresentment #weeshite
Instagram post 2143782924973322974_3452711602 'I know where to hide' says Jess, playing hide and seek in the maze with her dad. And she did! We sat there for ages, while dad wandered about trying to find us belters. Absolutely thrilled with ourselves. I would have sat there all day and made him suffer, but Jess cannot physically sit still for longer that 5 minutes, so had to get up and give our spot away. Master spot finder, shit stamina. I've been known to hide so well and so long that Jess cries and her da forces me to come out ma spot. Some people just cani handle a good game of hidey. #autumnvibes🍁 #hideandseek #hideyinthepark #buddies #hoesbeforebros #parklife #almostpeed #whilesquating #pregnantlife #pregnantproblems
Instagram post 2140892521370665809_3452711602 From hating my newborn, my life and parent role, wanting to run from it all, to this. The image of complete love. This pregnancy was a conscious choice. The strain of becoming parents, the toll on our mental health, the reality that 'better' is a journey with deviations, being happy with our situation, fearful to tempt depression back again. All considered, the decision wasn't made lightly. What I didn't consider was love. We can be so fearful and negative, naturally, projecting the future based on our past. I didn't expect to be overwhelmed with contentness or love. More in love than I have ever been. More grateful than ever to have this tiny hand in my life. I no longer think I don't belong or don't deserve love. I savour every minute of sharing this pregnancy, despite contending with the aches and moods that come along with it. I love being pregnant because I appreciate all that is around me, I appreciate that I can feel love. And enjoy it. Love can be very comforting. We don't know what will happen when the baby arrives, or before. But I know that this little hand will guide me through regardless. Like the comfort of a safety net, I know that if shit does go wild I have people around that support purely out of love, unconditional love. #19weekspregnant #PND #pregnantlife #pregnancyafterdepression #familylife #newbaby #luckyinlove #honestparenthood #honestparenting
Instagram post 2139933012833737853_3452711602 Someone sent me this. Cheeky bastard. And a liar. I don't see 'ragey psycho' dwarf on the line up so it can't be in reference to me. Image repost from @thebabychick #whoneedsenemieswithfriendslikethese #illsendthehormonesround #watchyoself #funny #cozitstrue #honestk #ormoodyK #pregnantlife #pregnantandcranky #pregnantandlookingforfights #pregnantandwillshankabitch
Instagram post 2136552150800870345_3452711602 Last week I lost my shit when Jess knocked over a cup of water. Last week I grew rage filled when Jess had a toilet accident. Last week my kid was a kid and I hated every inconvenience. Last week I snapped. I tucked my kid into bed, fast read her book, closed her bedroom door and burst into tears. I sat and sobbed at the side of my bed. It was more than the 'crazy' cries of a pregnant woman. It was the cries of a pregnant woman that knows she's being an arsehole but cannot help it. I joke at my own moods. But the reality is I'm not a mindless drone. I know the impact I have on others. I feel guilt. I pressure myself to be or feel things I do not. I worry I'll lose this pregnancy or baby to PND. Constantly waiting for the dark to appear. Last week I cried on the phone as Dave told me he would be home late. I desperately wanted him to feed and comfort me, and an extra hour was too much. The accumulation of uncertainly, change and strain broke out of me. I sobbed for reasons I don't know, other than 'this is too much'. I'm tainting this pregnancy with the ghost of PND. Well, I was until I broke. Sometimes you need to roll with the rage and be the beast. I tried to simmer it, control my emotions. When all they wanted was to be heard and released. I'm not suggesting to be a grumpy arsehole 24/7. Rather, just let yourself be. Like happiness, stress and upset need to be expressed. If that means acting like a bitch for 2 month then crying it out, well that's how it needs to be. This week, I'm happy as a pregnant bitch in a free pizza shop. But still not here to entertain you knowing the sex of my baby coz it was a full moon last week. So still keep stepping on those eggshells. #PND #pregnantlife #mentalhealing #crazybitch #18weekspregnant #motherhoodunplugged #rawmotherhood #honestparenting #parenthood_unveiled #parenthood_moments #honestparenthood
Instagram post 2134256984157114676_3452711602 Me my entire pregnancy so far. A crabby bitch. Not dead, empty, hollow, done for, kaput. Wait a minute...🤔
Instagram post 2130016203082951130_3452711602 Suicide is a topic we all know about, yet may know nothing about. Often the highest of taboo topics, it's difficult to discuss. When my depression was being evaluated, 1 question was 'have I considered suicide?'. I said no. Not a lie, yet not the truth. I fantasised about leaving my newborn baby and my partner. Running away from it all. Thinking when would be the best time, how I could do it without being traced. Where I would go. What I would do for money. How could I escape? Feeling trapped, powerless, exhausted. Overwhelmed with wanting to escape, I thought what would be the 'easiest' route. It's then that I understood what drove a person to suicide. I understood the relief that would come with suicide. But my relief would come as a huge source of pain for those around me. I couldn't have my daughter growing up with tales of her mother and how alike we are, her memories created via pictures and stories. I'd often think, if I didnt have my daughter and partner, I would be free to go as I pleased. They were my reason for not giving into my fantasy of escape. I speak of depression, not loving my baby, how it changed my life. But fantasizing about thoughts fluttering very close to suicide or escape is something I keep close. For fear of shock or 'you are so ill' or being misunderstood. We often see suicide as the last act of someone very ill. I believe suicidal thoughts to be more common than we think. Yes I was ill, in a dark place. But a person doesn't need to be very ill or for a long time to start to dwindle down that path. It was frightening to truly understand and empathise with someone who has taken their own life. Which only worried me more and prevented me from sharing. The reality is we shouldn't gasp when a person says they have entertained a suicidal thought, yet we don't want to negate their mental health. We need to normalize and openly talk about these thoughts. From fantasies of suicide to the very real scenario of planning your own death. Mental health lurks in many forms, all of which are normal and should be talked as such. We've normalized talking of sadness, now we need to normalize suicide. The topic many of us hate to admit. #WSPD
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