Osteogenesis Imperfecta- Cushioned In Love

Expressive and Emotional word content… poetic justice… my thoughts are perceptive, occasionally subjective but always dimensional. My career lies in psychology and my mind lies in philosophy. To question and ponder is to reflect. I am both reflective and directive. I never walk with caution as our steps need their footprints. I love this journey we call life.

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Blurry eyes, copious yawns and eureka revelations!

There are many facets to being a nursing mother. The extra snuggles and devotion are indeed fruitful and continue to promote the emotional positives. Research continues to tap you firmly on the shoulder, and mummy pride aids in the darkest moments. However, scrap all of that for a moment, as I truly believe that another angle to consider lies between the times of 3am and 5am. This is what I refer to as the ‘lost hours’, the ones which disappear in the midst of nipple soreness, baby balancing, and the multitasking form of controlling a vicious and rampant milk letdown. All this whilst the hubby remains sleeping also! I often ponder how he would react if I aimed my dairy firearm in his direction! Anyhow, back to the night time juggling, and the sense of satisfaction you feel with a successful latch and a settled baby. It is at this point when the lost hours become something else. These hours provide the base for reflection and deep thought. I could stare dismally at the wall and become majorly irritated by the odd flake of paint hanging off, but instead I use my time wisely. I plan, I seek, I analyse, and I ponder deeply. In those lost hours, I find solace. I find meaningful thought content. I then fall asleep satisfied, as does baby.

I awake in the morning and usually  can not remember much of those eureka moments, yet I continue to bathe in the knowledge and wishful thinking that 3am serves me fairly. One day I am sure my ideas will flourish me.

We all need a silver lining … Especially in the night! 

Fairies, imagination and tending to your own lawn!

Often we live within our minds, we follow our dreams, beliefs, wishes, and fail to realise the reality which we dwell.

The promise of magic, fairy dust, talking animals, and enchanted forests, stimulate our childlike senses, and offer us escapism from the mundane tasks of the day. Dreams are indeed essential for personal motivation and to instil a sense of worth around us. However, sometimes the dreams take us away from the importance of reality. We fail to see the real as we are looking only for the perceived magic.A fairy can inspire a grown person to reattach to their inner child, as an imagination can envision and develop ones personal scope. The real deal is the realisation that the magic we seek actually stands In front of us in the form of our loved ones. We do not need to dig into our imagination to find this. There really is no greener grass than the grass you are tending. 
Only with this realisation do the fairies and mystical beings actually come alive inspired by love, not by wishful thinking ❤️


Inspired by Louis Honca Art

To love is to breathe

I had a thought in the darkest part of the night, ‘what if we loved instead of hated?’

What if we loved ourselves and felt comfortable in our own skin? Would it be really that bad to look properly in the mirror and look past the negative focus? To look deeper? Often we see blemishes of our own thoughts, shadows of our emotions, we are blinded by our own cynical lens.

How often do we appreciate a flaw as positively different? As unique? As simply us?

Do we hate on ourselves more out of insecurity and in fear of others judging us first? Are we afraid of the societal gaze and not measuring up?

Who the hell sets the scoring board? Who alters the bar? I often wonder if it isn’t our own doubt that leaves us feeling oblivious to our true beauty, yet to blame society seems just somehow 🤔

Social media does portray beauty in a can, falsifies the true natural state of a woman (and a man), but we can ignore this and take a stand to be whom we are….can’t we?

The opinion of others can only affect us if we let it, or if we perceive it. Beauty is standing tall and relishing in the chaos. Beauty is pure acceptance and that glow of radiance which is a result of being happy.

Happiness is not physical beauty. That’s simply a fabrication created within us. If we look good, we feel good right?

No.. because love is deeper than skin level. We need to accept and love whom we are, then beauty will own us. Simples.

Brittle Me

❤️ Brittle me – sneak preview 😜

Our joint project has been brought to life ❤️

As people know, our daughter has Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease).

We decided to coproduce a book to promote social inclusion and educate on osteogenesis imperfecta to children and adults, in a fun and appealing way.

All children want to be superheroes regardless of disability, and every child should feel included.

Please share as all proceeds go to brittle bone society

Available internationally!

Amazon.co.uk

Brittle Me Simply Me: Osteogenesis Imperfecta Broken Down https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08H6TTCVG/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_bs.wFb6RXB1V5

Amazon.com

All proceeds to brittle bone society 🥰

Osteogenesis Imperfecta Federation Europe Brittle Bone Society Osteogenesis Imperfecta Foundation

Hell hath no fury…or any tonsils

I am ill. Poorly ill, not ill in the head, or insane. I have tonsilitis but have no tonsils, so have ‘itis’of something. Regardless of this, I feel rough and have remained in my night wear all day. I am officialy on a self woe day, and have spent the day in mindful thought and over analysis.

So as I have sat here, tonsil -less may i add, I have been thinking of the crazy thing we call Life. I am fairly ambitious and have always strived for the next step in my planned quest, whatever this may be. I set myself small goals, take tiny bites out of the cookie, keep nibbling, until I have destroyed that entire sweetened quest. Then I simply take out another, and start all over again. A psychologist would have loads of fun analysing my personality and cognitions in comparison to food, especially the sweet and naughty kind 😀

So back to the cookie, I find the psychological idea of small chunks enables a thorough fool-proof plan in reaching the end goal. I am impulsive, and often attempt to take larger bites, but have learnt that often this leads to disappointment or a crucial step may have been missed. Overall my process works, and I have this to thank for my own career and life achievements.

Well now we come to the ingredient part. What do we do if, after a bite, you realise theres a huge raisin poisoning that sweet taste?! Yes this happens. We make a plan and continue on our merry way and then somebody comes along and leaves someting in the way for you to trip on and fall flat on your face. See the metaphor? Raisin? Annoying person or barrier?! How do we deal with this you may ask.

Unfortunately this ruins the whole experience. We have a firm choice to make, we can decide to throw the whole cookie away and sacrifice the whole biscuit, or we can nibble around it and make a new path. The latter also allows us to continue to enjoy our treat but also still reach the goal….win win.

In reality this is hard. Of course, the cookie is simply a plan, and the raisin can be many things. A person, a restraint, a problem, a distraction. It is not always as easy as working around something, confronting, changing, especially if that something is determined to ruin your plan. Sometimes the solution is like a smack in the face, or in my current case, a pain in the throat! It may hurt, it may be uncomfortable, but surely its worth it for further clarity and success.

In my own experience, I find that the poisonous raisin can inbed itself anywhere and the bitter taste certainly does have its own unique flavour, one we remember well. I have faced changes, unexpected and unfortunately these have affected my own plans. I have experienced hostile colleagues, jealousy, competitive, challenging. I am sure we all have. It is a difficult situation. Confrontation is not desirable but neither is sacrifice. Sometimes careful diplomacy is required. Our own subject matter becomes paramount in our next steps. We crave the sweet chocolate chip but instead sink our teeth into that shrivelled dried rubbery texture. We cant change it. We can only change how we see it.

Instead of viewing it as a barrier, we need to view it as a curve ball. Our change in perception enables us to create new routes and make bigger progress. The raisin becomes simply a mini trampoline, helping us bounce onto the next venture by giving us a forward push – a rush of determination. That jealous colleague, that change, that growing challenge? Use it to your advantage. Turn it around. Nobody expects that and negativity really turns into positivity.

After all hell have no fury like an ambitious and determined lady…..

Crown of strength and diligence 

Baby brain, and life as we know it – or thought we did!


Art accredited to Louis Honca Art.

Three months and 3 glorious days of baby snuggles, that new born contagious smell, that strong and fierce lioness possessiveness, and the balanced sense of pride vs irrational anxiety – and you still aren’t even close! Add a sprinkle of hormones, a dash of irritability, a slurp of fear and a gallon of insomnia and then place these fine ingredients into the body of a corpse mummy and then we are walking the same path.

Motherhood! Babies! 

An explosive bottom which does not conform to waking hours, or before and after meal times. Tiny limbs encasing an ever vibrant and loud alarm clock, which does not offer a snooze option – add this to the already busy and multifaceted existence and things get interesting! 

Washing, cleaning, feeding, sleeping, walking, sitting, laying, needing, wanting, bathing, toileting, shopping, working, watching, seeing, feeling…and being. A juggling conundrum of OMG!

The 3am tribulations, and then the sense of achievement of settling the mini one, to then realise that sleep has long gone and the irrational fear of watching a sleeping baby is preferable. That dreaded anxiety and need to check, check – and check again! 

Shopping is no longer about Radley, Kipling, or  any other words or letters incorporating a golden price tag, it is now about the oohs and awwww’s of those tiny dungarees or that new parenting invention that EVERY magazine raves about… and a must have to qualify as a loving and ‘successful’ parent!

To dress up and make the effort now includes tucking in the baby bulge and holding the evident belly in for timely camera poses, and luck is in if the attire is not inclusive of the latest baby fashion – shoulder drool and milky sick! 

Life certainly looks and feels a lot different to 3 months and 3 days previously. Yet that warm bundle of hard work and life change that I am holding in my arms, gives me more pleasure and more worth than my previous  structured existence. The journey is indeed a crazy roller coaster of unknown entities and direction, yet I’m riding with excitement, stimulation and a huge ‘hell yeah’!

Keep Travellin’

The journey is what creates us, what defines us, and what concretes us.

Every step creates a new opportunity. A continous conundrum of vast choice.

Don’t stop.

Keep travellin'

Life may never have a smooth road all the time but it’s always going to be worth the journey. Hang on, keep the faith & don’t give up on your purpose. ❤  @kimmibesmonte

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Update

Illustrations by my significant other. Amazeballs! 🙂

Everything and nothing. 

This overwhelms me.
We all need something. We all want something. We all crave something.

We need love. Hope. Motivation.
We want power. Devotion. Pride.
We crave worthiness. Identity. Inclusion.

We are all so different, yet also so similar. Ironic.