F is for Filigree, Fireworks & Flashcards

Can you guess the word?
‘A for apple, two stumps, a big E’

My son can read!

Well ok, that’s probably a bit bold but we have now started our letter reading journey!
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8 Photos of Happiness

The lovely Sarah at Twins Make Five nominated me for this tag. I really love her blog, do pop along for a visit if you haven’t already…you can find Sarah’s 8 Photos of Happiness post here and visit her blog homepage here.

So the tag, choose 8 photos of happiness…really quite self-explanatory…And yet a couple of challenges have arisen. Firstly my photography skills are bordering on shambolic BUT I don’t think that really matters, you’ll all just have to stick with me and marvel in some cronky photographs. The biggest problem is actually that I don’t want to share photos on my blog of me, my family or friends. Hmm. Given that those things make me happiest (along with tea and chips) I was a bit stuck for a moment.
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A Post about Panic for World Mental Health Day 2015

Imagine suffering from severe claustrophobia and having to go in a lift. Now imagine that lift being absolutely packed full of other people – there is literally no space between any of you – then picture the lift breaking down. Can you imagine the absolute terror that would grip you, the very real sensation of being completely trapped? Your body shaking, your tummy churning, your breath smelling of fear, your heart feeling like it will bounce out of you, your head racing; thoughts all over the place, thinking the worst, losing control of your mind as you try desperately to grasp on to rationality? You are in full fight or flight mode but have nowhere to go.

Now imagine sitting at home safe and happy, drinking a cup of tea and then, wham, being hit with the sensations I’ve described. Sheer terror…for apparently no reason. Full fight or flight with nothing to fight and nothing to fly from.
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7 Reasons My Neighbours Think I’m Strange

You know how you say flippantly ‘ha the neighbours will think I’m strange’. Well since becoming a parent I seem to be saying that A LOT. My neighbours are a ridiculously lovely bunch and terribly polite but a few little, ahem, observations from them have brought me to the conclusion that my flippant utterances might have some basis in reality.

So I’ve been considering what possible reasons there could be for this and I think I’ve nailed it:
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