Big Sis.

When I was younger I used to share a room with my big sister.


Little girls idolise their big sisters, for the most part anyway and I don't think we were any exception - I used to love sharing a room with her, used to try on her clothes when she was out, play with her makeup, walk around in her shoes, read her diary. Yeah. That happened Sis. Sorry about that.


At night time, she occasionally used to make me sing her to sleep. Or we'd sit up talking and she'd tell me about what her wedding would be like (she'd been planning it since about age 6 I think...). We'd have some awesome sisterly chats about boys and once, on Valentines Day early on in my secondary school career, I was a bit miserable because I didn't get any cards. So she made one, signed "?" and sneaked it into my bag... Aaaaw. Lush.

Then there was the other side of our relationship.


All sisters bicker... But once, I sat on the top bunk and whacked her over the head with a recorder because she was being particularly irritating. I'm fairly certain she deserved it, although I can't entirely remember why. (This wasn't as bad as it could have been to be fair, our older brother Dave has been known to throw many things at her face, including a basketball, and a shoe. I think he once winded her by hitting a tennis ball at her) In fact, thinking about it, she must have been a bit of a prick at times for us to want to do these things to her... It couldn't have been anything about Dave and I needing anger management or something.


My absolute favourite example of how cunning my big sister can be is the game we used to play to tidy our bedroom. Here are the rules...

• She is the Fairy Queen.
• I am the Fairy Slave.
• She sits on the top bunk and gives orders.
• I obey the orders - and the outcome is that I unknowingly tidy the room.

She came up with that game all by herself. Sneaky cow. I was only little, and I fell for it... More than once come to think of it. She never had to tidy the room, and I DEFINITELY never got to be the Queen!


I won't hold it against her. I'm sure she's forgiven me for the bash over the head and various other things I've done to her. Hopefully. I'm sure there's more I can say about my sister... But to be honest, the only reason this blog post is about this is because I sat here and went 'Hmmm, what shall I write about?' and I was instructed to write about the Fairy Queen game.

And everyone knows, I wouldn't disobey an order from the Fairy Queen...

But I will post pictures of her on my blog.

 This is her normal face.

 She's classy.

 Possible she's just been propositioned.

 Self explanatory.

 Jessica Rabbit. Obviously.

 I don't know what that is on her face, but I have my suspicions.

Crazy Politics?!

Having a read through the BBC news website today, as I do, I came across an article that made me quite literally speechless for at least half an hour... Now that I've collected my thoughts, I figured I'd share it with you and see what you think.


Where Child Sacrifice is a Business...


I'll summarise this for people who may be viewing on phones or who can't be bothered to read the full article - basically what's happening is that children in and around Kampala, Uganda children are being kidnapped by Witch Doctors. The Witch Doctors are then sacrificing the children on the behalf of the countries 'elite' because they believe it will bring them great wealth.


I almost, ALMOST don't know where to start with this one. 


According to the article, at least one of the people responsible for child sacrifices has been named, a man called Awali. The reporters posed as local businessmen and asked around, and were pointed in this guys direction. When they met up with him, to cut a long story short, he offered them some options. Which were...


"Bury the child alive on your construction site"
and
"Cut them in different places and put their blood in a bottle of spiritual medicine."


If the child involved is male, he is beheaded and castrated. The body is then dumped somewhere. And apparently, this makes someone really quite wealthy.


Awali admitted that he has sacrificed many children and boasted that he is really quite good at it.


The reporters handed their notes in to the police, and yet Awali is still free, and still 'trading'.


Now, my first thought is this:


We - and I mean the entirety of the UK pretty much, and other countries as well put an ENORMOUS emphasis on the protection of children, and quite rightly so. They are the future after all! We don't just focus on the children of the UK - there are hundreds and thousands of charities which dedicate their time and resources to protecting children in countries such as Africa from starvation, disease...


What I can't understand is why we can't do anything to protect children from being slaughtered in the name of greed?


I don't know if it's just me, and I haven't really had the time to think this through a great deal so I may still change my mind as I mull over it some more. But does it strike anyone else as strange that we can put this happy, smiley and helpful front on - 


"We'll give you clean drinking water! We'll teach you how to make the most of your land to feed yourself! We'll help set up schools and hospitals!"


And yet we aren't able to do anything to protect the poor babies who are being snatched as they walk home from school, savagely tortured, maimed and killed, all for the alleged benefit to big shot businessmen?! 


No, THAT issue we'll leave them to sort out themselves - it's far too messy for us to get involved in. 


These children are no less important than our own. If the Ugandan Police won't do anything about the situation, we should be able to send some troops over there to take Awali down and teach the bastards a lesson. Oh but... We can't do that. It's not our place. 


Politics isn't it. 

*Edit: I mean, it does just seem to me that we're an entire nation of 'let's just talk about things, report stuff, make sure everyone knows what's going on, and then not do anything about it'. It distresses me.


** And another thing... If I'd been the reporter responsible for talking to Awali, I don't think I'd have been able to finish my assignment without being guilty of murder myself at the end of it. Oh but you can guarantee that if anyone was to do something like that to Awali, they'd get put in prison quicker than you can say 'thecountryisruledbytherichsonothingwillgetdoneaboutthissonofabitch"

Things that have made me smile today...

1. Mini-me goes to play at Nana and Grandads house while I'm at work, and today was a work day. The fact that she goes there makes me smile all by itself, she ALWAYS looks forward to it and I know that she is being looked after by my parents - who love her NEARLY as much as I do.

The second part of this that made me smile today was her demands on the way there in the car - 'Mummy, I want sausages, tomatoes and bacon for my breakfast'. Oh right. Okay then.

The third part is this conversation between my Dad and Mini-Me...

Dad: Moooooo

Mini-Me: Stop cowing!

Dad: Miaow!

Mini-Me: Stop catting!

Dad: Woof woof!

Mini-Me: Stop DOGGING!

Teehee.

2. A few weeks ago my lovely Hubster-to-be got really quite narky because he'd overheard a guy at work saying some unpleasant things about me (yes, we work together, no, it's not weird). He didn't say anything because he's professional, but he did tell me! This kind of thing doesn't bother me in the slightest - I figure everyone has a bitch and a moan at some point, and with the number of people I work with, at some point I'm BOUND to be the focus of their gripes... Anyway, today this dude actually admitted to my face that he'd said some things he wasn't proud of and apologised in a very awkward manner. It made me smile because I didn't really feel that it was necessary, but obviously he did, and I appreciate that a lot.

3. My new boss had literally NO idea what to make of me when I turned up with purple and blue dreadlocks today. That was quite entertaining.

4. I'm making Chili Con Carne for tea, yum. Although, I do have to do the washing up first... Not so yum.

5. I just sent my fella a picture of my boobies, while he is still at work. Shits and giggles... 

6. My bestie Shelley has made some quite frankly astounding looking cakes, and I'm hoping she might save me one.

7. I have hit over 1600 views now... Thankyou to everyone who has had a look. Please follow me, that would make me smile even HARDER. 

8, 9 & 10. Today I have signed up for The Institute of Copywriting's Copywriting Course! This is a VERY big deal for me. I'm not academic. I hated school. I hated homework. I dropped out of 6th form. And this is the first time in my life I've felt motivated enough to actually WANT to do something like this - and I really, really, really wanted it. It's going to make so much difference to me - I like to know what I'm on about you see, it's all very well doing an amateur blog, but I want to get PAID to write. It's so exciting to think that this time next year I could be working from home - hopefully earning some decent money. My long-term plan is to earn enough to put the Hubster through a course that he wants to do (considerably more expensive than this one) so that we can both do jobs that we enjoy, earn enough money to be comfortable and generally have a slightly simpler life. 

Being able to sign up to this course has only been made possible because a chick I don't know very well offered to help fund it with a loan. We've known each other some years, but I'd say we've never been particularly close friends, and at times have had our spats. She had no reason to want to help me out, other than a heart of gold and in her words 

'there's a lot of bastards in the world, someone has to balance them out.'

She has, for now, restored my faith in humankind, myself and my future. Even if for some reason the course doesn't pan out the way I want it to (it totally will though...) I will be grateful to her for just being good enough to give a shit. 

Children... and Parenting.

Children. Can't live with them, can't live without them.


Actually, you can live with them, it's just REALLY REALLY hard work...


My little Mini-Me is 2 years and 5 months old (nearly) and is completely loopy. She's also VERY clever (I'm not exaggerating, I'm sure. She uses words such as 'fanspastic' and 'berlicious' and frequently tells me i'm 'brooafool'* so she must be clever.) She is a whirlwind of energy that has thrown my entire life and all of my priorities up into the air, and they've landed, on the ground in a rather muddled mess, with her sat RIGHT on the top with a cheeky grin on her face.


Now. I am not a perfect parent. There are times when she drives me completely mental. She can be VERY naughty and has, as I may have said before, got my attitude. Except worse. With her, the attitude has been squished right down into a very tiny, concentrated package.


What I really really do not understand is how some parents can want to push their little girls into growing up so. Very. Fast.


Nowadays, you see 6 year old girls (and younger) being paraded around on a stage in front of a panel of 'judges' with full faces of makeup on - hair extensions in and hair styled with curlers/straighteners. Fake eyelashes. Fake tans.


Then, they take it a step further. You can now buy, a PADDED BRA for an 8 YEAR OLD. 


And also, I heard on the radio this morning... 5 inch heels aimed at 6 year olds.


What. The. Hell.


My big sister is 5 years older than me, so when she started wearing makeup at - Oh I don't know - 15 years old!? I used to LOVE having her do 'makeovers' on me. We'd sit in the garden in the summer time, or in our bedroom and she'd try out different eyeshadows, lipsticks and other stuff. Occasionally and NOT with my permission, she'd make me look even MORE ridiculous than a 10 year old in makeup usually looks. It was fun though.


However, had I thought of leaving the house aged 10 with a full face of makeup on, I think I would have been given a hiding. Saying that though... I don't think the thought ever crossed my mind. At 10 years old I was happy with my face, and never dreamed of having to get dolled up to go out. 


I don't think that aged 6, I ever thought about putting on a pair of 5 inch heels. I was too busy taking off my babies clothes and re-dressing them, or putting high heeled shoes on my BARBIE for crying out loud. 


I just cannot, in any way see what would motivate a Mum to push her daughter into these things at such an early age. Mini-Me likes tractors. And animals. And mud. And I am so, so SO happy about that. I hope she likes those things until she is at least 14. Then she can start wearing a little bit of mascara or something. 


Before then... FUCK. NO. Nobody is going to be pressurizing my little girl into wearing makeup, having low self esteem, poor body image and knackered feet and back. Get away from her, or I will scar you for life. Just sayin'.










*These words, translated, are 'fantastic', 'delicious' and 'beautiful'. In case you were wondering.