I carried a water melon

I spend a lot of time telling myself to shut up.

I talk A LOT, but what you don’t realise is, that’s me holding back. Me talking a lot, is mostly me talking a bit, but holding most of the words in my head and preventing them coming out. Can you imagine how unbearable I’d be if I let it out?

In North Wales (where I come from) this incessant talking is considered normal. But everywhere else? It doesn't seem to be the thing.

I’ve been thinking about this because I had a training day yesterday, a small intimate group of six. Within minutes of arriving, in that awkward silence before the training begins, I’d (unintentionally) insulted the man sitting next to me and told the group all about my fasting. Something they really didn’t need to know. But I just couldn’t help it.

You see I can’t stand a group of strangers sitting in silence before a meeting starts, all worrying about what they'll say in the dreaded ‘round the table introductions’. I always have to chat, get people talking, find common ground (aka humiliate myself and insult a few people) so by the time we do the intros it's just not that bad.  

Apparently this is a problem. A work-based coach once told me that I needed to stop ‘forcing my personality on people’ and let people ‘come and find me’. Not everyone wants to be your friend, he said.

So I tried it for a week.

I was my normal self in the office but when it came to meetings or group discussions, I sat back quietly, let other people take the lead and desperately, painfully, kept all my words tightly locked in my head (the hardest bloody thing I’ve EVER done).

And what happened? I had a whole week of people asking what was wrong.
Was I ill? Stressed? Everything alright at home? Unhappy? Leaving? Pregnant?

No, I’m just letting you all come and find me. (weirdo)

But he had a point, not everyone likes a chatterbox and they don't all want to join in. So just let people be.

Dirty Dancing classic lines

So occasionally I put these tips into practice and remain silent, but most of the time I forget all about it and speak before engaging brain.

In my excitement and urge to make everyone feel relaxed, I tell inappropriate jokes and dole out excruciating insults.

They don’t look funny in writing, without the perfectly timed delivery and painful tumbleweed silence that follows.

But this t-shirt (bought for me by colleague mumofthreeworld) says it all.

The Gallery - Boys

A group of boys, born within a month of each other, bound by their mother’s need for coffee, counselling and company. Products of the NCT ante-natal production line.

Almost 5 years on, the boys are as close as ever. More like brothers than friends, they play, they argue, they fight and they sit in silence together.

And the mums still mainly just chat.

But no matter what I do  and no matter how many I take (I have hundreds) they will never EVER pose for a sensible photograph.

This post is part of The Gallery, view the Sticky Fingers Blog to see more

Skinny jeans sinner

“Those trousers aren't designed for real women. They were only made in your size for a laugh. You were never supposed to actually buy them! Skinny jeans were designed for special women who live on special diets of only special lettuce. If you can remember the last time you ate a burger then for Christ's sake take them off….”  The Regular Guy, In the Powder Room

I hate skinny jeans and jeggings.

I hate them because they really don’t suit me.

But I just can’t resist the draw of the elasticated waistband, the stretch fabric that feels so great no matter how tough the terrain (or big the lunch portions).

I resisted for a loooooonnng time. I know have too much arse and thigh for skinny jeans, but I gave in when I was pregnant with number 2. I could wear them with giant maternity tops and get away with it. They stretched so brilliantly around my water-retentioned legs. (see picture)

Then I got hooked. I realised I could wear old dresses that had been hidden away for being too short (as I got older and my knees got fatter). Put them with jeggings and it’s a whole new outfit.

I can wear them with flats, with heels, with boots and with wellies. They’re warmer than tights and smarter than tracksuits.

I can eat as many cupcakes in a day as I like and they just STRETCH so I don’t even feel it. (If necessary I just change to a bigger top.)

I love them but I hate them and I just keep buying more. I'm addicted to skinny jeans and they're doing nothing for my figure.

As the Regular Guy once said:

“Your arse looks fantastic love, but are you sure those skinny jeans suit your fat ankles?"

Skinny jeans + 41 weeks pregnant = not a good look

Great marinade for steak - plus chilli onion rings

Staying in with kids means that most weekends one of us will cook something different.

The OH always heads for Levi Roots or African cookbooks. Last night he found a simple, but bloody lovely, steak marinade. So good I thought I’d post it.

This is based on 2 people, so just adjust to what you need.

2 x steaks of your choice (we had sirloin, the recipe suggests rump)

For the marinade:

1 tbsp. medium curry powder

2 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp grated fresh ginger

2 tbsp soy sauce

Mix together and marinade the steaks for 1 hour. Take them out and cook to your taste. Keep the marinade to use as a dip for your onion rings. (heat on high it for 1 minute in a pan or microwave before serving)

Chilli onion rings

We just added chilli powder, ground cumin, finely chopped fresh green chilli to a thick batter. (batter made with plain flour, water, salt)

One large white onion made enough for 2 adults, with leftovers for the kids.

Slice the onion into rings, dip into the batter and fry in hot oil (deep fat fryer or deep frying pan) 'til golden brown.

Serve

Recipe adjusted from one in Tastes of Africa

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tastes-Africa-Justice-Kamanga/dp/1770078029