I have linked this post up with Chantelle’s weekly Read with me link. You can find her blog Mumma, mummy, mum over here
I have been struggling to read this book for a while now. I finished it yesterday afternoon. It’s called Finding Emma and it’s by Steena Holmes.
It’s a book centred around Megan and her family.
Megan has three daughters until she drops her eye of the ball from being exhausted and one goes missing, Emma.
We fast forward to two years after Emma’s disappearance and we meet Jack and Dottie. They have a granddaughter called Emmie who went to live with them two years ago.
The characters were a bit flat. Megan really started to grate on me. Dottie, although it was clear was suffering from some form of Dementia came across as just mean. It was never confirmed that she was suffering from a degenerative condition either, the reader was left to assume.
The book moved along at a snails pace as well. It has so much potential and it just wasn’t really tapped in to. The only character I liked was Jack. When he realised that Emmie wasn’t his biological granddaughter, my heart broke. After suffering through the book the last 30 or so pages made it that little better. Jack was an excellent character and it’s a real shame the others didn’t come up to his likability.
I really do think that this book had masses of potential and I believe there is a second book, but I won’t he reading it, which is a shame. I just don’t think I can slug on through.
As with all the books I have reviewed, I bought this book with my own money. I am just sharing my love of books by telling you what I thought
Dear twinkle of my eye,
Today we could have been meeting you for the first time, or I could have been cursing you and saying you were like your big brother and making me wait to meet you. It wasn’t mean to be though.
You were taken from me too soon, too harshly, too quickly. You were take from me but I loved you. I loved you from the moment that little window showed two lines. I loved the hope, the plans, the wonder. I loved that my body was going to carry another perfect little person. It wasn’t meant to be though.
Today I am mourning for the could have, the should have, the secrets I wished for.
Today I am keeping it together. Today your big brother is kissing me and cuddling me a treat, as if he knows. Today little twinkle of my eye is the first of forever remembering what could have, and what should have been.
I will always love you my little twinkle.
I’m feeling drunk after one glass of wine thanks to not drinking in ages and lack of food and sleep.
I shouldn’t be bogging but fuck it. It hurts. It hurts so bloody bad.
I just got asked at a party if I was expecting. Um hello?! Glass of wine in hand, See!!!!
No. I’m not. M is enough for us for now.
No I’m definitely not. No we aren’t trying. Excuse me please I need to pop to the ladies.
But I could have been.
I could be nervous about my due date tomorrow.
I could be going nuts as the contractions were getting intense.
I could have been getting ready to welcome a new addition to our family.
I could have. I wish I was. I’m braking. I’m upset beyond. My heart aches for the could have beens and the already wished for.
Today, as I put on a dress that didn’t fit me last year, and made me feel incredible before I had M, I have a renewed love for my body post pregnancy.
My hips are a little wider, my boobs are a
little lot bigger, my belly is a little flabbier but wow. This dress looks amazing with the extra curves. Yes, admittedly I am still a little heavier that I want to be. Still heavier than I was before I had M, but I’m getting there. The fact I couldn’t wear the dress last year is testament to the work I am putting in. I feel pretty body confident today, it’s been a while since this feeling. It feels as good as no more muffin top trousers felt.
I was going to blog yesterday but I was too annoyed at myself.
As you know I’ve entered a 10K so I’ve been training for that. It’s been week 1 this past Saturday to Wednesday.
Day one went excellently, equally day two was awesome. I powered round. I nearly forgot to take my two minute walking break. The music I was listening to really helped me go for it.
Then came yesterday.
First off I was suppose to be up at 7 and done by half 7, no. I ignored my alarm. Rushed around to get M to pre school, rushed around so much I didn’t allow myself time to walk him in so had to drive.
I get home from the preschool run and feel congested and gross. Hay fever, politely do one.
I took my piriton, shoved the nasal spray up in a vain attempt to be able to breath, put my running kit on and away I went.
It was humid, muggy, my nose was running like a tap, my eyes were streaming. My muscles ached, I felt rubbish. I was supposed to run two miles. I ran one and gave up. I am still cross at myself. I feel I’ve failed the first hurdle. Due to this being an 8 week programme and having 11 weeks till race day I’ve decided to give week one another turn. I’m just mad that I gave up, but it was a set of circumstances that made me stop. I was in bed by 6.15 asleep by 8.30 at the latest with wads of tissue up each nostril to stop the streaming.
Today isn’t much better hay fever wise as today I have a headache. I’m cross, but at least I got out there and did something. Today and tomorrow are rest days. I have mostly walked around today.
So week one of training a roaring success met by crushing disappointment. Onward and upwards as they say.
Wearing his yellow Tshirt and his excitement for school, we set off yesterday for what will be the first of many sports days.
I was scared because I am still wary of the mums and don’t like being thrown in to situations anymore.
Off M toddled in to class and there I was, in the corner, surrounded by not many friendly looking people. I popped to the cake stall they had going and some how managed to part with £6.50
How you ask? There was a raffle which I just had to take part in…
“yes you do, oh you have £5 how convenient there are 5 spaces left! You must buy cakes, are you thirsty? Here have some cakes and a bottle of water! That’s £1.50 please. Next…”
A little stunned I went back to my corner and the mum of the little boy that invited M to his birthday came in. We chatted and ended up day next to each other in the sports hall. Another mum joined us and we all groaned when, after parting with another £1, could see there was a parent race at the end. (Non of us participated)
Then the littlies came in, all holding hands looking so cute and a little lost.
There were 4 groups: red, blue, green and yellow. The groups seemed to be split in to ages with yellow being the smallest of them all.
They all did brilliantly and the staff were amazing. The races were fab. Straight running, obstacle course, relay race and a few others. M seemed to enjoy and I really was very proud. It was a big proud mummy moment. I can’t believe my little man is growing up so fast. We are all about “ready steady go” and then we run. It’s cute. He’s cute. He even got a certificate for taking part god love him.
And, and… My parted cash wasn’t wasted, mummy won a price too! A 1L bottle of pimms and a pitcher! Kerching! Thank you very much haha.