Touch: Touch is one of the sensations processed by the somatosensory system. Touch may also refer to: Haptic perception, the ability to recognise objects through touch. Haptic communication, the study of human touching behaviour. Haptic technology, technology that interfaces to the user via the sense of touch

I’ve always been funny about personal space,
Don’t come near my body don’t be near my face.

I need room to breathe, room just to be,
I need to be independent, in control, free.

Don’t know how to dance, don’t know where to begin,
Not comfortable with my body, feel strange in my skin.

Asked to move, to copy each other,
Can’t make up new movements, work with one another.

Uncomfortable feelings, very self aware,
A need to escape, be alone, not there.

Trusting each other, hands and feet touch.
Going through the motions, but not liking it much.

Aches and pains, releases of tension,
Talking, understanding, receiving attention.

Easier with time, becoming more free.
Loosening my body, feeling more like me.

Helping, healing, team work and such.
The wonder of movement, the magic of touch.

This poem is a out a new dance therapy group I have been attending to help mums with post-natal depression. I have found it very challenging, but it is helping!

Madness: The quality or condition of being insane. See Synonyms at insanity. Great folly: It was sheer madness to attempt the drive during a blizzard. Fury; rage. Enthusiasm; excitement.

The Madness Before School

Mum where’s this, mum where’s that?
Where’s my coat and where’s my hat?
Where are my shoes and where is my book?
Where’s my school bag I can’t find it? LOOK!

I can’t find my pencils, mum where are my pens?
I’m going to be late now, late for my friends!
Mum I need some food, mum I need a drink,
I can’t find my glasses now where are they? THINK!

My tie has gone missing, my key’s just not here,
I left it there I know I did, mum is it near?
I need my PE kit, mum where is my purse?
Why can’t I find them, have you moved them? SEARCH!

I’m off now mum I’ve found all my things,
When you pick me up can you my dance stuff bring?
I don’t know where my dance stuff could be,
Think it’s in my room, I’m not sure. SEE!

The door slams shut, the children are gone.
Enjoy the peace but not for long,
The husband appears, says where are my keys?
Where’s my laptop bag can you find them, PLEASE?

All of things things are here, use your eyes,
They’re under your feet, they’re on the sides,
Organise yourself the evening before
Then you’ll search and panic no more.

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Meeting: A meeting is a gathering of two or more people that has been convened for the purpose of achieving a common goal through verbal interaction, such as sharing information or reaching agreement.

Britmums Live 2013

Little people in my phone,
That’s normally where you stay,
But last weekend at Britmums Live,
You all came out to play.

Mums, bloggers, people,
Laughter, hugs and kisses.
Old friends introduced to new,
Hits and sometimes misses.

Groups who know each other well,
Who have been here before,
Gather together, smile and laugh,
Room for many more.

Am I too keen, am I too loud,
Do I appear too much?
Half finished conversations,
Rushing to coffee to lunch.

And then friends appear from no where,
Like you they feel the same.
Talk is easy, laughter lots,
No fear, no doubt, no shame.

Shyness, loudness, emotional things,
Personalities all so unique.
Strength in numbers, bonding slowly,
Not feeling such a freak.

We each are individual,
Brought together by one thing,
Over sharing, openness,
For another blogger…sing.

Leaving feeling emotional,
So many things to take in.
Leaving knowing I’ll be going again,
New friendships will begin.

Opinions: In general, an opinion is a belief about matters commonly considered to be subjective, i.e. it is based on that which is less than absolutely certain, and is the result of emotion or interpretation of facts. An opinion may be supported by an argument, although people may draw opposing opinions from the same set of facts. Opinions rarely change without new arguments being presented. In casual use, the term opinion may be the result of a person’s perspective, understanding, particular feelings, beliefs, and desires.

Opinions

We are allowed to have different opinions,
It really is ok.
You can do things the way you like,
And I’ll do things my way.

It doesn’t matter that we’re different,
That we don’t do things the same.
Just please don’t judge and please don’t preach,
There’s no one here to blame.

Everyone is equal,
and individual too.
I can be me and happily so,
And you can be confident in you.

Don’t challenge my opinions,
Don’t mock what I do best,
Don’t belittle my beliefs, my ideals,
It makes me like you less.

I know my children inside out,
As I’m sure that you know yours,
But please don’t guess what goes on here,
Behind my home’s closed doors.

I’ll leave you to do what you believe,
And please say you will too.
We’ll never be friends if we don’t respect,
Each others feelings too.

Everybody is different,
Everybody knows,
What’s best for them, their children,
And how to nurture them as they grow.

So let this be the end,
No more judging and unkind speech.
It is forgotten, I’ve let it go,
There’s nothing the other can teach.

I wish you luck in all you do,
I wish you love and joy.
Now let us each move on,
And do the things we both enjoy.

Peace: Peace is a state of tranquility or harmony.

Peace

Glistening water
Crashing waves
Peace

Sunlight dapples
No cloud to be seen
Peace

The wind breezes
Sand beneath my toes
Peace

Time to myself
Reading, sleeping, laughing
Peace

Ripples on the sea
A view to behold
Peace

Rebuilding, strengthening
Time out, refresh
Peace

Nearly One

You’re nearly one, a baby no more.
Crawling and cruising around the floor.
Trying new words, making new sounds,
Facial expressions from smiles to frowns.

You like to be cuddled, love to be kissed.
Looking at everything, nothing is missed.
Reading a book, chewing a toy.
You are an absolute total and wonderful joy.

This year has been tough, challenges faced.
Hardness and difficulties for which I wasn’t braced.
Sleepless nights and emotional weeks,
Both of us at times with tears down our cheeks.

But you made me stronger, you made me have hope.
I could be your mum, I could do it, cope.
We got through it together, a family as one.
And now those dark days and dark times are gone.

Your birthday on Monday, with family around.
Presents and cards and cake to be found.
Celebrate the wonder and joy that is you,
And marvel at all the amazing things that you do.

Cuddle you tight and hold you close.
Place kisses all over your cheeks and your nose.
Know I love you, more so every day,
You complete our family in every possible way.

Happy first birthday my beautiful boy xx

Above: a·bove, adv. On high; overhead: the clouds above. In heaven; heavenward. In or to a higher rank or position: the ranks of major and above. Superior to in rank, position, or number; greater than: put principles above expediency. Idiom: above all, over and above all other factors or considerations: Above all, tell the truth. (Free Dictionary)

Rise Above

I like to please.
Get knocked down easily.
Take thing personally.
Cry sometimes.

Always seeking approval.
Love,friendship.
Need to be needed,
Busy and useful.

Harsh words out of nowhere hurt me.
Make me doubt,
Question,
Mistrust myself.

Looking for reassurance.
Empathy and support.
But eyes roll and tongues wag,
Am an irritation.

Love to be liked.
Like to be loved.
Try my best, but,
Knocked down again.

Rise above, pain no more.
Move on.
Surround myself with loveliness,
kindness, honesty and openness.

Rise above it all.
And let it go.

I have now self-published this poem as a beautifully illustrated children’s book. You can purchase a copy at Lulu.com.

Thursdays are fast becoming one of my favourite days, not least because it means I get an opportunity to link up with VicWelton’s #Prose4T. I have always enjoyed writing poetry, but have not done so for many years. Recently I have found I can express so much in poetry, and often find it easier to write a poem than a blog post!

Today I am going to share something with you that I wrote a while ago and have tweaked many, many times! Finally I think it’s finished! It’s based on a poem I wrote when I first started blogging, and is a book aimed at children whose mums suffer from depression. I have often noticed in libraries and shops that there are a range of books written to help children cope with different situations; bereavement, the death of a pet, moving house, new babies and even potty training, but there was nothing which focused on depression or post natal depression. Ultimately I would love this poem to be published and money from it raised to help those with PND, but I know that could forever remain a dream, it is not easy to get published! I have read the book to my eldest two children and the reaction was instantaneous, my four year old now often asks for the monster story before bed, and my 11 year old understands a bit more about how I was feeling, it’s prompted some lovely, honest chats.

So, here is the story, please let me know what you think xx

A Monster Ate My Mum
By InstinctiveMum

A monster wandered far and wide,
No one walking by his side,
His mum seemed lost, not the mum he knew,
Would someone know just what to do?

She’d not been like herself at all,
Crying lots and feeling small,
Not wanting to go out, get dressed,
Feeling trapped and like a mess.

A monster must have gobbled her up,
Made her sad and feel unloved,
A monster must have eaten her joy,
“I’ll go and find it,” said the monster boy.

He found a monster big and tall,
A grumpy monster with no friends at all,
A monster that ate smiles and joy,
‘Did he eat my mum?’ thought this monster boy.

“Excuse me, but have you eaten my mum?
I want her back I want some fun,
I want to see her smile, my mum,
Is she in your big, round tum?”

“No she’s not here I just ate her smile,
I’ll give it back after a while,
I’m sorry I was hungry you see,
I don’t know where your mum could be.”

So the monster boy wandered on,
Knowing where his mum’s smile had gone,
He found another scary beast,
And wondered if he’d had a feast.

“Excuse me, but have you eaten my mum?
I want her back I want some fun,
I want to see her smile my mum,
Is she in your big, round tum?”

“No I just ate something that made her cry,
She won’t know how, she won’t know why,
I’m sorry I was hungry you see,
I don’t know where your mum could be.”

He wondered on and soon he knew,
That it wasn’t his fault, nothing he could do,
The monsters had eaten what made her happy,
It wasn’t him who made her snappy.

He carried on walking along the path,
Wondering who had eaten her laugh,
He saw a monster asleep on his tum,
Was he the one who had eaten his mum?

“Excuse me, but have you eaten my mum?
I want her back I want some fun,
I want to see her smile, my mum,
Is she in your big round tum?”

“No I just ate something that took her spark,
She can have it back, not feel in the dark,
I’m sorry I ate it, I was hungry you see,
I don’t know where your mum could be.”

All of these monsters had had their fill,
They had each been what had made his mum ill,
He wanted a cure to make her well,
He wanted to help her out of this spell.

He found a wise monster among the trees,
“Could you help me and my mum please?
She’s not been happy, she sleeps all day,
Can you help in any way?”

The monster turned and said to the boy,
“Those monsters will return her joy,
The monsters will return your mum,
She will be back you will have fun.”

“Time is what you need my friend,
Love and kisses and cuddles send.
It won’t be bad like this forever,
She can and will one day get better.”

So the monster boy walked home and knew,
He would be patient, see this through.
He’d rest his head upon her tum,
Hoped no more monsters would eat his mum.

My take on a Haiku today for #Prose4T. Sometimes the less you write, the more you say.

Instincts, trust yourself
Together as one you learn
Doubt and fear be gone

So, it’s Thursday again, and I just wanted to start this post by saying that this week’s poem for #Prose4T could be interpreted in a number of different ways. It was not necessarily written from my perspective (although throughout different parts of my life it very easily could’ve been) but it could also have been written about me, when I was ill with PND, or by someone else completely. Thank you, as always, for reading x (Oh and next week I promise to write something more uplifting 😉 !!)

Count to 10, and Walk Away

Your words go deeper than you know,
Hurt inside deep down,
Childish words said out of anger,
Pure nastiness behind the frown.

Said to cause me so much pain,
To cut me when I’m weak,
Uncontrolled outpouring of hate,
Whenever to me you speak.

Is it because you feel so guilty,
Because you don’t know what to do,
Is it because you hate me,
Because I really feel that you do.

You never offer comfort,
Your words are never soft,
They are nasty, mean and horrible,
From across the room they waft.

Make me feel it’s my fault,
That I’m not worthy of your love,
Make me feel so horrible,
They envelop me like a glove.

You know just what to say,
Just what will hurt the most,
And you make me a shadow of my former self,
A tiny, insignificant ghost.

You don’t know when to stop,
You can’t control your voice,
It’s as if you are possessed by evil,
As if you don’t have a choice.

But it’s when the children hear you,
When they see you be so cruel,
That I feel I’ve let them down the most,
That I feel like a total fool.

They shouldn’t be around it,
Shouldn’t hear those words be said,
They should only hear words of kindness,
Only have nice things in their heads.

So please next time you hate me,
Or don’t know what to say,
Bite your tongue, keep it closed,
Count to 10, and walk away.