Ikea ghosts, poo rivers and ‘keeping my shit together’

coddiwompleI should really be writing 4 separate posts but the new 2019 me is all about maximum efficiency so here goes.

I feel a bit like Bridget Jones because looking back I do start off most of my writing with a report on the fag and sugar front and it’s not entirely lost on me that I am failing miserably at stopping both. I am of course still smoking like a trooper and have ballooned in size due to all the festive gorging. One does not need to eat 3 mince pies for breakfast.

We have officially moved to the coast.  Something I never thought I would say!? Mr Hurrah has wanted to live near the sea since he was little but I always just thought that it was just a pipe dream.

The move was fuck fuck fuckity fucking stressful. I got rid of half of my belongings; it was necessary as the house is slightly smaller than we are used to. Making a million micro decisions ever day is very tiring. I threw away (ahem… recycled) a mountain of kiddie artwork, clothes and random clay things that says mum on them. I am not a hoarder as such however I do have an immense emotional connection to some things. Especially it seems, stuff from when my kids were small. It brought back so many memories some good but some of my relapse periods and it was really hard to hold myself together through it.

The day of the move the moving truck couldn’t fit everything in which was great! I realise that sarcasm is considered the lowest form of wit, yet it comes so naturally to me why fight it? We moved what would fit in the truck and arrived exhausted that afternoon with kids moaning and crying they wanted to go back home. Sorry kids, this IS home.

Moving into a new house is a bit like a cat having to use another cat’s litter box. It’s very weird, primal familiarity of another creature’s intimate abode. I had it cleaned before we moved in but you could still smell other people’s smells or maybe that was all in my head? Anyway I plucked out my trusty Nag Champa Incense and just burned those babies continually until the house started to smell of us.

I took the kids upstairs to get their beds ready and then we heard a great banging noise coming from downstairs accompanied by Mr Hurrah’s grunty sounds he makes when he’s doing something strenuous. I rushed downstairs only to see a scene reminiscent of the Jack Nicholson ‘here’s Johnny’ scene in the Shining. Mr Hurrah was wielding a hammer with a crazed look in his eyes going ape shit at the electric fireplace. You see, the fireplace was in a very awkward spot and we simply could not fit our L shaped Ikea couch in there. He was going berserk at it muttering ‘fucking glorified heater’ to himself over and over again.

Thankfully he managed to dislodge the mantle and fireplace without leaving a massive hole on the side of the house so that was a relief. The stress levels were still high because at this point we could not make the covers fit the couch as we built the L the other way around. Mr Hurrah and I were taking turns wearing the couch covers over our heads like angry Ikea ghosts the other directing and stretching the ends. After what seemed like eternity it came to me that we may need new covers and I was right. That god for small mercies I say.

After all of that I just wanted to take a long shower only to discover that the water was set to boiling so burned the living shit out of me and also that the shower door would not close unless you held it closed with your one hand. I forgot to warn Mr Hurrah so as I was drifting off I just heard the screams of pain and expletives that followed through a haze of tiredness.

The following couple of weeks we managed to unpack and sort out the shower but then I had to prepare for the in laws who were coming to stay for Christmas. As usual all of the organised women of England had booked up all the delivery slots for December so I had to brave the shops to purchase the obligatory Christmas lunch things. I thought I would be super clever and go at 6:30 in the morning naively thinking that the Marks and Spencer’s would be empty. When I arrived it was full of Christmas shoppers who all had the same not so brilliant idea.

I am always amazed at how manic people get around the festive period and they were loading their trolleys as if the food was going to run out. Bumping elbows to get the last Christmas pudding and trolleys were loaded with enough alcohol to kill a small village.

The day before Christmas we decided to get a puppy. I know…rookie mistake. We promised the kids a dog but I was quite apprehensive about the timing as we had guests. We bought a beautiful Cocker Spaniel boy and brought him home on the 24th.

The previous owners we a bit dodgy to say the least so they didn’t give us any puppy food and we didn’t know to ask. When you change a puppy’s diet so suddenly their tummies get very upset so I was dealing with rivers of poo, fleas and worms as well as trying to have a Merry fucking Christmas.

I am pleased to report that Charlie is now flea and worm free and also his poos are more towards to mousse consistency not that you need that level of detail.

I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, we’ve not had a holiday in a year and this December was anything but restful. I had a couple of fleeting alcohol thought and one short fuckit moment where I almost wanted to go into a pub. I think its ok…I didn’t and honestly I don’t want to drink. I’m just tired and need to recharge that’s all.

The kids are totally in love with Charlie and I have a feeling its totally going to be worth it but at this point I think I’ve gotten myself a new baby and I did not like the baby phase with my human children. He is very cute which of course is his saving grace.

My word for the year is going to be ‘keeping my shit together’

Every year I choose these lofty words and I never really seem to stay on course with it so I think ‘keeping my shit together’ is probably also not realistic but seems more achievable than something grander.

Overall I’m in a good place. My life is very full and I am stretched thin but I am so incredibly lucky to have an amazing family, friends and a gorgeous doggie to boot. I am so grateful to be sober through it all and just thank my lucky stars I get to experience this life in all its glory the agony and ecstasy

May you all Coddiwomple with glee into the new year and fill it with lots of new adventures.






38 thoughts on “Ikea ghosts, poo rivers and ‘keeping my shit together’

  1. Coddiwomple may be my word for 2019! I had to google it, and it’s perfect for me. I have only vague goals but stride purposely toward them. Ha ha!

    My husband could hear me laughing from the other room, so I relayed the Ikea couch and puppy stories because we’ve experienced both. We have an Australian Shepherd, but I wanted something more manageable like a Cocker Spaniel. Is he golden or black and white? My kids always went apeshit over puppies too.

    On another note, is there some kind of yoga studio/ metaphysical center near where you live? I want to schedule a talk there as an excuse to arrange a trip to England. You can email me privately if this would expose your whereabouts, Ms. Hurrah. shawnaraeacim@gmail. You can also tell me it’s none of my business.

    Off to become more presentable as my hair has entered a mullet-looking stage. (Modest grooming goals are part of my 2019 revamp.)

    Happy New Year! 💕💕💕

    Liked by 1 person

    • Glad you could relate and relieved to hear that we aren’t the only ones😂 he’s a golden cocker spaniel although his heritage is in question as the paperwork turned out to be fake. Re the talk …There will be… I live near Brighton but as we’ve just moved I don’t know all the places yet. I will take a look. It would be amazing to see you. 🧡❤️💜

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Excellent post! So awesome that you got the puppy for your kids. I have 3 dogs and I’m still frequently just a kid with them, never mind that I’m coming up on 70 next month.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “Remind me to die in my house” — oh my god you all are hysterical. Hurrah, I’m so glad to see your post because it had been a … long time…. I was a little worried about you. So glad to hear that everything’s fine! It all sounded stressful but realistic until I got to the puppy. Really? Really?? (Keeping your shit together would be a whole lot easier if you held off on things like that 🙂 ) But I’m glad he’s cute (that’s their saving grace, isn’t it? (also for human babies (of which I have exactly zero))) and I’m glad the house smells like you 🙂 (Your litterbox analogy is a good one.) Happy 2019!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I too, told the family that we were dying in this house after the move was complete!
    This year we bought a Berniedoodle who is now 11 months old and is taller than me on her hind-legs…no mouse sized poops here!

    Welcome to your seaside dream!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Hurrah! Hurrah is back!
    Well the first half of your post reads very similar to the last 6 months of my life. I too moved, downsized and nearly lost my mind at the bullshit, arsehole motherfucking solicitors on both sides. They are pure evil personified.
    My shower sounds like a donkey when you move and the boiler packed up on day 2 ha ha, the week before Christmas! A kind soul plumber has done something magic to “get you through this winter” so looks like a new boiler is in the future.
    My dogs didn’t like the move and one quietly whined to himself for 3 days which broke my heart, he has settled now thankfully but yes, like Wendy I plan to leave here in a coffin.
    Speaking of coffins, if I don’t get sober again soon the coffin may be needed sooner rather than later. I can’t seen to get past 2-3 days despite every effort. Can’t bring myself to blog until I can get a few days under the belt.
    Sorry for the ME ME ME ME comment but you did make me laugh as apart from dog poo I have been living a similar life.
    GREAT to see a post from you again.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hey Ginger! so nice to hear from you. Moving is really tough…very unsettling. Funny you say that your shower sounds like a donkey when I’m in the shower the floor creaks so much it sounds like a cat meowing so every time I’m in the shower the dog barks his head off. You will crack it past 2 or 3 days. Addiction is complex and healing is hardly ever linear. These stories of people getting sober first time round and staying sober till they die can really make us normal people feel like shit. I’m rooting for you. xxx


  6. Love your post – you are a hoot!! When we can’t find humor in our life is when we falter. I am trying to get my humor back and your post truly helped. I am on my hundredth try at getting off the hamster wheel, so far so good – on day 21. I too got a new puppy a few months back and she is a joy, but a handful, very stubborn at times, but also well worth it with the happiness she brings. Hang in there. Love your word for the year – I just may use it ha! Am also considering ditching the fags, but holding off till I get a month under my belt. Are you still smoking or did you quit? Any advice? Not quite ready to turn into a raging witch. Hugs. A.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Man did I read this at the right time.

    We just finished a major move ourselves. I haven’t popped that stress bubble yet. Sort of, holding a lot in still. This post had me at the title, and never let me go. It was the outpouring I needed, just for today.

    Liked by 1 person

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