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Mummy Barrow

Middle Aged, Menopausal, Muddling along

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  • Life’s weird isn’t it? I sometimes wonder if I wrote an autobiography whether or not a literary agent would believe my life and not insist on filing the manuscript under “fiction”. Or the bin with “the woman’s delusional” scrawled across it. Yesterday marked five years since we had the FA Cup in our lounge. And its two security guards in the office. I don’t even like football but when it means your football mad mates can lift it unlike their team you have to say yes. And it meant @lifeasaliceblog got to bust her son out of hospital for the afternoon. Three years ago yesterday I was at the Azraq refugee camp in Jordan with World Vision. Listening to stories of how families had fled the violence, lost family members who had made it as far as the Med, and how the teens dreamed of a safe future. Then last night I was chatting kitchen wish lists on Twitter with Matthew Pinsent. Like I said, life’s weird.
  • A wise man once said in response to people talking about throwing things away that “there is no away”. That’s quite a sobering thought for a Friday, isn’t it? Encouraged by @ecofriendlybb I’m now trying to make better choices about the things I buy in an effort to stop “throwing things away”. Like this little pot of toothpaste. Recyclable glass jar and cardboard box. No plastic. Nothing to throw away. I’ve got a long way to go to be plastic free and I certainly can’t preach to anyone else about their use of plastics but it feels good to know I’ve made a small change this week.
  • Right there’s rules to this. It’s snowing (okay I admit, it snowed for three minutes and then went back to rain) but it’s not allowed to snow without prior warning. I need at least 48 hours notice to ensure I’ve panic food shopped before it can snow. Before there can be any suggestion of a HINT of snow. Food shop done all plans then need to be cancelled for all friends and family, and everyone needs to work from home. For at least 24 hours prior to the forecasted snow. And if there’s snow on the road you can forget being allowed out for at least a week after it last snowed. Snow absolutely cannot creep up on me like that and scare the shit out of me. If someone could have word with @schafernaker I’d be ever so grateful.
  • Well if this turning up in the post this week didn't break me I would be asking questions about whether or not I actually had a heart. Suffice to say I was in bits as I opened the envelope addressed to Mr and Mrs Barrow at my desk yesterday. Clearly I wasn't expecting this, I don't know what I thought the hand written envelope would contain but it obviously wasn't this. A "thinking of you” card with a sketched picture of a cat holding a bouquet of flowers on the front and this inside. That the printed info on the back of the card suggests there is a whole industry around this type of thing. I had no idea a vet would do this. How thoughtful, though? I had just assumed that putting an animal to sleep was just something they did so often that they were used to it. That they might be almost desensitised to it, after all it's just another cat to them and they must see hundreds a month and see several families saying goodbye to their pets. Seems nothing could be further from the truth.
  • You know me, I love a bandwagon (wait until later this month when I start recreating "stars in bikinis in the snow" when we go to Iceland) so thought I would jump on this one. 2009 vs 2019.⠀#tenyearchallenge #10YearChallenge ⠀ Typically though I can't find any photos from 2009. I wasn't great in front of the camera, I'm still not overly comfortable with it, despite what my Instagram feed looks like at the moment. But the pic of Mr B and I was taken when we were in Wales in 2007. I remember it well, and it became one of my first Facebook profile pics.⠀ ⠀ I could just about see beyond the wonky teeth and the not straight fringe and the lines and to a man who loved me for who I was and who was giving me hope for a future together. We weren't engaged then, let alone married. I was hugely insecure back in 2007, worried that things might all fall apart again. When I looked in the mirror I couldn't really see beyond the fact I was fast approaching 40 and not stick thin. But I liked this pic so used it as my profile pic. ⠀ ⠀ Now fast approaching 50, and even less stick thin, the more recent one was taken last weekend but I am slightly less worried about all of those things now. Mr B had his "big camera" and asked me to smile. Normally I give him that look that says "FFS, do I have to?" but I was waiting for a fish finger sandwich so I was in a good mood and smiled so as not to spoil the moment. ⠀ ⠀ It shows a double chin, more lines than the first pic and too much gum action but hey, I think I am okay with that because it also shows a woman who is about to demolish her favourite of all the sandwiches. With chips. A reminder of a Saturday where we were having a pub lunch. And I really hope that when I look back on that pic in 12 years time it's from a place of total confidence within my own body. And of course with the knowledge a fish finger sandwich is imminent.
  • Ooooh a plain brick wall, quick, take a selfie before anyone looks at you and thinks “what ARE you doing?” I wondered if I might ask a favour. I’m 50 this year and think it’s about time I sorted out a skincare regime. I didn’t even really realise there was such a thing as a regime until recently. Suffice to say I don’t have one. Now I’ve hit the menopause my skin is drier than ever and I think it needs a bit more of a helping hand. I rarely wear make up and I’m ashamed to say that even moisturising it is a bit hit and miss most days. The products I use (apart from the @carolinehirons double cleanser) are things I’ve been buying for years or because they’re on special offer in Tesco. I’ve got no idea if they’re actually any good for my menopausal skin. Or what else is out there. Do I need serums? Face masks? Eye cream? Or a gel? It feels like a bit of a minefield. Would you please tell me your hero product / your fave skincare product / your can’t live without so I can actually start acting like a grown up when it comes to my skin. Thank you kindly
  • Hashtag thank you. #ThankYou⠀ ⠀ Yes even you. It's no secret that I am huge lover of social media and tell people that I truly believe it has changed my life. Given me opportunities and my family adventures we would otherwise never have had if I hadn't joined Twitter ten years ago and gone on to start a blog. But recently social media has been getting a bum rap as a darker side is being exposed. ⠀ ⠀ I have just watched a video that explores the detrimental effect Youtube and other social channels are having on the channel creator's mental health. How YouTubers are facing burn out. How Instagrammers chasing the likes are struggling to deal with the stress of the battling the platform's algorithm. And whilst that is obviously true, right now, in my experience nothing could be further from the truth. ⠀ ⠀ In the past 48 hours you lot have shown me an overwhelming amount of support and love, for a cat you never met. Many of you belonging to a woman you have never met. It didn't matter. You were sharing your stories of cats, popping up in my DMs, offering condolences, just sharing an unbelievable amount of love. It sounds cheesy but it gave me the ability to then be able to support my family who were, are, heartbroken. ⠀ ⠀ So thank you. To everyone of you, thank you. For double tapping my pic yesterday, for commenting, for DM'ing me, you have no idea what your support has meant. And to the stack of new followers, I have no idea how you found me, but welcome. ⠀ ⠀ Kettle's on, pull up a chair and help yourself to a biscuit. Not the chocolate HobNobs though. No-one gets to eat my HobNobs. 📸 @unsplash
  • You really were my spirit animal, FatCat. You’d get half way through cleaning yourself and forget what you were doing. Halfway up the stairs and forget if you were going up for a lie down or down for food. You lived for food. You’d shout for it, waiting outside locked bathroom doors in the morning if we’d had a lie in making sure we knew you were hungry. Or at the bottom of the stairs so we’d have to se your sad little face and follow you to the kitchen before we did anything else. You’d get really excited for Amazon deliveries because it meant you got a new cardboard box bed for a days. You couldn’t be arsed to play games with toys or get excited for catnip, all you wanted was a lie down. Like me, you also weren’t terribly photogenic. All the photos I have of you you just look like an abandoned doorstop. You were also incredibly noisy. Your purr is the stuff of legend. None of this jumping on tables nonsense though, you left that for your mum, Bob. You would sometimes haul yourself onto the sofa but more often than not you’d just have a nap wherever you felt was most likely to get you food next time we stood up. Yesterday you wouldn’t eat breakfast and were a bit wobbly so I took you to the vet. They called at 11.30 to say you had an inoperable bladder tumour and there was only one thing to do. By 3pm we’d said our goodbyes Thanks for being my spirit animal, Socks (to give you your proper name one last time) you really were one helluva cat. RIP @fat_cat_hampshire
  • That we could be heroes, just for one day. ⠀ ⠀ Three years ago today David Bowie died and whilst I wasn't an uber fan I have to admit that every time I hear Heroes it makes me cry. Quite possibly, for me, the greatest song he ever sang. ⠀ ⠀ But just imagine if we decided to be a hero for a day what we could achieve. How it would make us feel, how we knew it would make other people feel. It would certainly shut up the devil on my shoulder that wants to judge and criticise me all the time. The other shoulder could say "hush, for today I AM A HERO", delivered in an I am Spartacus type voice. ⠀ ⠀ This morning I let that man across the road with his dog when nobody else did. I let that lady turn right by holding up the traffic in my lane for a nano-second. Yep, I'd been a hero twice by 8.30am this morning. Take that devil-on-my-shoulder that says "yes but the sink is full of washing up and you look a bit more bloated than usual". ⠀ ⠀ Imagine how good we might feel about ourselves if we silenced that voice in our head and knew we were heroes, just for one day.

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Recent Posts
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  • Have you heard about Treat Trunk?
  • Toby Carvery do takeaway, who knew?
  • The Upside Down House
About me
Hello, and welcome to Mummy Barrow. Primarily a lifestyle blog written by me, T (short for Tanya but nobody uses that). There is the occasional post by my husband Bruce and his stuff is in the Mister Barrow category. My previous working life was as either a PA or in the property industry but now I am a full time blogger. I am also a mum of three and trying to make the world a better place one blog post at a time. Oh and I could talk for hours about the menopause and its myriad symptoms. I am never far from a cuppa or a large gin.
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