Honest K

MASKING INSECURITIES WITH HUMOUR AND SARCASM SINCE 1987

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  • feminism feminist

    Feminism has gone too far! We can’t touch people…

    / August 10, 2018 / 3 Comments

    “I’m all for feminism, but it’s getting out on hand. I’m scared that if I pat my colleague on the back, I’ll be hauled up for sexual assault. Are we not allowed to touch people anymore?! It’s…

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  • I offer thee a Period Pack. May it improve your hormonal state and my life expectancy.

    / June 19, 2018 / 2 Comments

    I should make a disclaimer that I was at the height of hormones when I wrote this. I apologise for any and all sexism. This apology will expire at onset of the next period. Also, I'm not…

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  • honestk holiday travel

    The REAL holiday essentials for traveling with kids. Oh, I forgot to add ducktape.

    / June 11, 2018 / 4 Comments

    It’s holiday season, which means it’s ‘essentials for traveling with kids’ blog season. I’ve read so many ‘how to travel with kid’ blog posts, and although they are very practical and full of great tips, I think…

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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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  • Pinterest – Help

    / August 22, 2017 / 18 Comments

    Right. *cracks knuckles, rotates shoulders, flexes guns (muscles)* I’m going to do it. I have put it off for so long. I feel like I’m missing out on the party. I’m going to delve into the blogging…

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  • Women – You are Dirty Beasts

    / August 22, 2017 / 4 Comments

    I have, after over a decade of having a shushmenstrual cycle come to the realisation that woman are just walking baby ovens. Huge, hormonal, sex mad, walking incubators of reproduction. Society would have us think that it’s…

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honestkirsty

Kirsty
Get those positive vibes right up yer arse, send m Get those positive vibes right up yer arse, send me a link for new ways to hide from people within your own home. Starting to think the spider infested loft looks pretty silent and snug at this point. #lockdown2021 #wheresjoewicksnow #fuckedoffliketherestofus #bakemeagettofuckcake
Postnatal rage, thats exactly what it is. Thankful Postnatal rage, thats exactly what it is. Thankful a frantic Google search brought up a term, a reason, an explanation for what I'm feeling. Being woke at 645 doesn't justify this mood. Rage, swirling beside the need to calm down. So angry, over nothing. All of a sudden it flipped, to the familiar, yet past, feelings of being trapped. Knowing my mood is not necessarily mine, but not knowing how to stop it. Just like depression. Being trapped in my own mind and just hoping the mood leave me. There's something so helpless and lonely, frightening, when you mentally beg for the mood to stop. When you feel out of control of your own mind. For months I've been waking with clenched fists, tongue rammed to the roof of my mouth. For weeks my mood has an air of 'fuck off', 'its always me', 'just stop'. Waking in a rage of a mood is uncharacteristic, wanting to scream into a wall at 7 is downright diagnosable. I felt huge relief when I seen the term postnatal rage. I know enough to see my behaviour isn't me, nor do I feel bad, guilty. I do wish there was an easy way to stop it, the lack of patience, quick temper, the extreme vice around my body that makes my teeth grind and neck ache from tension. I don't have the answer to what seems like an overwhelming situation, but then again I didn’t know the beast that was PND until I faced it head on. #postnatalrage #welp #ragebestronginthisone
I lived in a bubble in 2020, and not the social on I lived in a bubble in 2020, and not the social one. One filled with a newborn, adjusting to a family of 4, my first born growing up to be a school girl, sibling laughs and love. My bubble was my family. I was more than happy for that to be my focus in a time when the rest of the world was going to shit. My 2020 was a good year, dare I say one of the best I've had. I gave birth and loved my baby. Healing trauma from my first birth experience. Experiencing, from the onset, the overwhelming parent love towards a child. Again, healing years of darkness, tears, pain, doubt and depression. Unwillingly, I let go of 2020. The year I gave birth for the last time. Breastfed for the last time. The year my baby boy was born. The year I seen what real unconditional love looks like. My bubble of newborn and baby life is about to pop. Ill be hitting 2021 home schooling and with baby about to enter toddler phase, who demands constant entertainment. Oofty. My 2020 was selfish, intimate and enclosed. Much of it out of necessity, boundaries hard in place to protect our mental health. Im proud to say we done that. A testament to our relationship, coming out of the previous 5 years of darkness to enjoy one of the biggest years in our worlds history. 2020 was an absolute shitshow, but I choose to see only the light. And enjoy as much of it as possible. 2020 made me the mum I thought didn't exist. But I still draw the line at baby groups, so thank fuck for that.
Best friends. Never seen a bond like it 💖 from Best friends. Never seen a bond like it 💖 from birth, Ben has loved his sister. Jess constantly reminds us Ben is cute, she loves Ben the most - which is a big deal. Considering since she was little, she has always said she loves both parents equally. I adore seeing how much the love each other 💖 I also adore watching Ben annoy the shit out of Jess on the daily 'Beeeeeennnnnnn, no!' Sweet, sweet revenge for years of Jess abuse. #grateful #siblinglove #bestbuds
You don't need to enjoy this festive time. Make up You don't need to enjoy this festive time. Make up for a shitty year. You sure as shit do not need to get into debt, to make it 'extra special' or be swayed by media outlets pulling at your purse strings via guilt and COVID. You can endure, get through, slap on a smile or feel whatever it is you need to feel. I'm one for blinkers, not looking anywhere other than right here, today, right now. Pouring all my focus onto my children, Ben's first christmas. I've done nothing extra or different this year, other than try to enjoy my young children as much as possible. Which is little to do with the pandemic, and more to do with PND - or lack of. The current climate is a shitshow, I don't dwell or even think about it. It's too much for me. The impact this is having on children, the vulnerable, the poor and the mental health of an entire world. Christmas is always, always hyped up. A struggle for many. This year will be right up there with the shittest for many people. I will be visiting a dinner table with missing people and it hurts. But I get to visit a table, with my family, my 2 children. For that alone I'm grateful. In a time when everything seems a bit shit, all I can be, hang onto, is being grateful. I focus on all my luck and everything I'm grateful for, to pull my focus away from all that is missing, all the change, all that has been taken this year. Let Christmas 2020 be whatever it needs to be for you. #benknowsthescore #ronaxmas #2020bewild #emptyseats #lovedones #family #grateful #luckymum #2021gonnabewild #overitmate
Image Reposted from @fucked_off_dad Accurately de Image Reposted from @fucked_off_dad Accurately depicts Jess on her way back up the stair, for the 283738389 time. Fuck the festive period btw, this kid is on kid kristmas krack! Absolutely BUZZING for every new day. Help ma fuckin boab man.
9 months, 6 days and we are done with breastfeedin 9 months, 6 days and we are done with breastfeeding. Much like his sister, it came to a natural end. But unlike the first time, I'm breaking my heart at the end of our journey. I won't feed again. My newborns are gone, the baby phase is rapidly coming to an end. Strange really, as I'm not coy on sharing how much I do not enjoy babies, nor the toll breastfeeding can have on the body and mind. More so the mind. I find being the sole food supplier extremely taxing. Now it is over, I feel sadness. So much, overwhelming, hot tears of sad. And I can't place why. Hormones, sure. But there's a feeling of loss. I hugged Ben so close and tight, putting him down to sleep after our failed feed. As I held him, I cried like I would never see him again. Like I was putting down one baby, and would wake to see a new one. So strange and, ultimately, silly. Yet those are the feelings I had. Thats what it meant for me to have and feed my babies. I'm well aware, after my first, how so precious time is and how quickly it passes. It all passed, unnoticed with Jess. No seeing the 'last times'. A luxury now that I think about it. It's painful to hold your baby and know this is the last time he, or any baby will feed from my chest. Although I am extremely happy, and wanting of that choice, it doesn't make it less painful, hard, or sob inducing. I couldn't go any more opposite in my feelings and views on parenthood, as I have between my first and second. Seeing both sides of hate and love, towards my babies. Adding all the more emotion towards our 'end'. Two polar opposite stories, combining to really pull the tears out, straight from my heart it feels. Never an advocate of breastfeeding, I'm so glad, and lucky, to have done it twice. There's nothing I regret or would change. Other than maybe having a little longer to feed Ben - who would have thought it eh. #endofbreastfeeding #breastfedbaby #formulafeeding #breastfeedingmom #titsaredone #literally #mybabies #myloves
Maw. A hate. Your. Shite. Maw - lol Ben. #happymaw Maw. A hate. Your. Shite. Maw - lol Ben. #happymaw #unhappybaby #benbantz #errandlife #hesthrilled #noreally #wantedtohodamirror #dafty #laughmate #itillsoonbechristmas
9 months as a second time mum, free of PND. Can a 9 months as a second time mum, free of PND. Can a get a YALDAE! PND was the biggest factor in the age gap of our children. One conversation that said, point blank, no to a second. We cannot risk going back into that shithole of despair and numbness. The second conversation, filled with the longing for a child that we both knew we wanted, yet muddied still with the relics of PND. Here he is, here we are, 9 months in. Theres been days, weeks, I watched the clock. Wishing time away. Theres been days I have cried feeling trapped and alone. Theres days I question, wtf, 2 kids? Can I do this? But never a day have I held onto guilt. I have seen me at my worst, I know my strength and what it takes to make me lash out in tears. It takes a baby. They are difficult, demanding, unrewarding for several months, moaning faced, needy and attention hungry. 24/7. By design I'm afraid. Regardless of your energy levels or mood. I needed someone to tell me this 5 years ago. Im not a monster, never was. Its ok to scream into a wall. Its ok to say 'thats plenty' and walk into another room, making escape plans with a friend. Its ok to let others in, they get it. It's really, really ok to say you are not enjoying your baby, for that moment. Who decided we should enjoy babies anyway?! Bizarre when you think about it. I lap up every single second of enjoyment I can with Ben, I didnt have it first time. If there is anyone enjoyment deficit, its me. But even I hate on days with my beautiful baby. The maw that was robbed the first time. Im not in the horrible false realm of PND so far, and for that I'm so thankful. I'm also not in the realm of 'babies are amazing', coz thats more bullshit than PND. #9months #secondbaby #pndfree #yaldae #itcanhappen #healing #babiesarestillshittho
No idea what has been happening with this guy over No idea what has been happening with this guy over the last few weeks. Teething. Sleep regression. A leap? No idea. It's been hard, really hard. Savage some days, and that's just the maw 😏 He's woke today in a better mood. Pulling at my eyelashes and those wee hairs at the base of yer neck. The really sore ones. But he was happy, for a change, in the morning. So I'll take the Ben Boofs. A hope, for ma sanity, and that of the family, that he's over whatever shit fest that was. Until the next shit fest a know, a know. If anyone could talk Ben into stopping these 5am wakes, just so he can come in for a snuggle, that would be great. A like a snuggle and aw that, but its 50/50 if he likes it. He has a right strong right hand slap on him. It's hard no to take it personally, but a know he's got an aim on him. I've seen him delicately pick up half a blueberry, so he knows fine well whit he is doin. He might do ma tits in, and a might call him choice words under ma breath, but man, he is cute and I love him so much. Wee happy chappy - for the day at least 💖 #bigbenboofs #righthook #motherandson #bffs #today #upsanddowns #mawcoaster #8monthold #savagewain #cuteboy #chubbycheeks
8 months into being a mother of 2, for the first t 8 months into being a mother of 2, for the first time in years, I questioned 'do I need to seek help? Am I becoming depressed?'. Weeks of patchy, irregular sleep, a baby who has switched up everything I thought I knew about him, and the constant day by day by day of nothing has, finally, opened the door to anger and resentment. By now I should know my mind, the lies it tells. Recently I found myself believing them, worse, I act upon them. Becoming withdrawn, quick to anger, always, ALWAYS looking for a reason to fight with my partner. Like the first time round, he's the mental punching bag. My mind is very efficient at packing away empathy, replacing it with woe is me, laced with 'fuck you!!'. Purposely I withdraw, at a time when I need support. Dwelling in some aggressive form of self destruct, I tell myself I cannot do this anymore, while I sob for the umpteenth time that week. But will I ask for help? Will I fuck. I would rather set traps and tests, to which no one could ever pass. I'd rather make myself more and more miserable. I'd rather huff and sigh my way into a new day, than shake off the lack of sleep and make do. I'd rather resent my partner, for what, I don't know, than tell him I need help - to which he is always offering. I know better than this, but here I am. A mind frame from 5 years ago, not quite depressed, but not healthy either. These are the times I feel helpless, to myself. I know why I act like such a arsehole, I just wish I didn't. I remind myself that I have not been like this for years, I'm a product of circumstance and pressure. I am not the monster I'm behaving like right now. I'm a stressed out human, bored out her tits, with a baby during a pandemic. Not depressed, just not fuckin thrilled with life at present. #ronababy #notababyfan #8monthsof24/7baby #oofty
I left 'tired' Town and moved straight into Neurot I left 'tired' Town and moved straight into Neurotic City. Lack of sleep, teething, illness, regression, whatever else life wants to through into the mix, created the perfect catalyst for me to say 'I can't do this anymore'. Even when the Master is in his slumber, every noise this contraption captures, I brace myself for his call. Kinda like waiting for a car door to shut when you've ordered a take away, except there are no treats behind this door. Only the rage of a baby, raging at something I don't know. It makes me frustrated and sad. My touch doesn't calm him. He arches his back, slap, kicks and nips. Like lack of sleep, his mood and my perceived inadequacy are major temper triggers for me. I feel helpless for him and for me and I feel guilty. Guilty I'm not comforting, guilty I do not want to comfort, guilty I don't want my baby near me. After a tough week, I curse this fucking contraption. Even with both kids asleep, my shoulders are up wrapped round my temple. Every roll. Every sigh. Every breath, I fear my alone time is up. I'm back to the grind. 8 months of 24/7 care. And I feel guilty I don't want to rock a baby to sleep. Seems reasonable, even logical, that a human may snap after such a long period of time. But thats not the crippling thought that occupies my mind when I reach the limit. I just wonder why I can't take another minute of this and what is wrong with me. Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Kids are savage. I'm human. I'm tired. And teething is a bastard. Thats what's wrong here, not me. I give enough to feel guilt, and that's more than enough. #8monthold #8monthsleepregression #8montholdbaby #8monthsbreastfeeding #touchedout #mummedout #teethingcandoone #4incoming #mawoutgoing #someonetakethewheel #imout
The 3 year that lost her tiger... The 3 year that lost her tiger...
Looks cute, but has some bite. For real, those 4 t Looks cute, but has some bite. For real, those 4 teeth are razor sharp. Best used for gnawing notches on yer poor maws boobs during feeds. Oh, and pull biting any and all items that come close to the vamps mouth. #bigben #bigfrights #bigoldeteethbitinghismaw
Jess got her own picture, just so you actually kno Jess got her own picture, just so you actually know she's there. Total eclipse of the Jess by Big Ben there eh. Drool, models own.
I thought I was failing my baby. Severely ill with I thought I was failing my baby. Severely ill with PND, I wasn't like other mums that seemingly enjoyed their babys company. I was so hard on myself, for years. I felt I wasn't good enough, that my daughter deserved a better mother. One that could love her and care for her better than I could. I came across this photo. My baby roughly 6 months old, playing in a pop up tent. Filled with toys. Decorated with fairy lights. Those struck me. Here I see a mother going above the basic level of care. This mother thought enough of her baby to stick lights in the tent, darken the room, let the little one see the full magical display of coloured lights. She didn't need to do this, she didn't even need to put up a tent and create a mini baby play zone. But she did. Despite all she was mentally enduring, she put her baby first. Yet felt like a failure. This picture is more than a happy baby being entertained, exploring lights and textures. What I see is a great mother, wanting the best for her baby. Wanting a happy baby. Making sure the baby gets what she needs and more. Those crappy lights are more than lights. They show that no matter how dark you are and how bad a parent you think you are, you are not. Our mental health can tell us lies, making us believe we are inadequate and failing. But there are glimers of the truth everywhere, if we choose to see them, and believe it. #depressionawareness #pnd #postnataldepressionsupport #postnataldepressionawareness #ppd #motherdaughter #6montholdbaby #mumsmentalhealthawareness #mumsofinsta #realmentalhealth #rawmotherhood
Gave ma maw a piggy back ride on the school run th Gave ma maw a piggy back ride on the school run the day. She was moaning her back is killing her, something about carrying a heavy wain for 9 months. Ffs maw, get over it. That was 7 months ago hen. Nae bother tae me though, a just hooked her tired ass on to ma back and off a walked tae get ma big sis. Threw in a few squats on the way, got tae keep those glutes in tip top nick so a do. #bigbabyben #bigbabyproblems #7monthsoldbaby #schoolrunstyle #schoolrunmum #lightasafeather
Obligatory 'it's autumn' pic. Think I nailed it tb Obligatory 'it's autumn' pic. Think I nailed it tbh. .. That wain took 40 minutes of walking to fall asleep. Nae bother matey. Hauns are fucking freezing. #autumnvibes🍁 #glasgowinautumn #itsfallyall #immafallonthesewetleaves #pavementsarenotmeantfromprams
That's a fierce cat you are looking at. I have no That's a fierce cat you are looking at. I have no idea what that is, but Jess does. And she's determined to be one. She has a zombie bride dress on, cat ears and her maws best attempts at a cat nose and whiskers. As dictated by Jess, with instant evaluations and feedback given. Squeaky butt stuff for a maw, coz she isn't short in telling yea areas in need of dire improvement. A fierce cat. That's exactly what Jess is. I hope she never stops being fierce. Telling me off, rightly so, when I'm being an asshole. Looking after her dad when, again, I'm being an asshole. Her quick wit and on point humour. She's creative and imaginative. Seeing things that most of us just call a zombie dress and cat ears. Dave keeps calling her 'the best of us' and he is so right 💖 #bemorejess #fiercecat #kidsofinstagram #halloween2020
Art installations no2. From the illusive artist. A Art installations no2. From the illusive artist. A call this wan 'Really?!' It's a pandemic mate. You're better using gold leaf for yer art, loo roll is in short supply. #whytho #kidart #kidsareweird #moreshittoclean #whodoneit #awonderwho
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