Monthly Archives: February 2017

I am sunday Mornings Mum 

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​”I just LOVE 6am starts with my precious minions, especially on a Sunday, after 4 consecutive nights of no sleep and sick baby.” #soblessed #sundaysnuggles #earlymorningsareTHEBEST
#shutthefuckup
6am: 1 hour and 13 minutes after your last trip to her room, and you hear the grumble of the monitor AGAIN. It’s still dark. You know you haven’t been sleeping long enough for it to be morning already. You hear the whine, or groan, or snuffle from the monitor and you hold your breath, hoping to Christ she’s simply lost her dodey and will go back over.  I don’t know why you hold your breath, but you do.  And you don’t move a muscle because you KNOW that she will sense your movement from the next room and you will basically be giving her permission to wake up fully if you breath…or move.
She goes quiet for about 30 seconds.  You’re JUST exhaling when you hear the “CRAAAASH!” as the Dummy is fecked onto the floor, followed by her feigned shocked tone as she announces “uh oh! DOOOOOODEEEEE?”  

Feck.

Then, a few minutes later, it comes, clear as an alarm clock…”MAAAAMMEEEEE”. 

Game over.
Regardless of what other tricks you have up your sleeve; popping the dummy back in her mouth, bringing her into your bed for snoozes, praying; you and she BOTH know that she’s won. You have only ONE other chance of getting another hour of sleep.

One chance.

One possibilty…

But then you look over at the big Gobshite, who is either genuinely in a fucking coma, or just doing a MARVELLOUS job of pretending he doesn’t hear your swearing and grumbling or the brass band now battering in the next room, and you KNOW you have about as much chance of Ryan Gosling turning up at your door and whisking you off for a 3 week holiday in the Maldives where he plays the piano and sings to you, while Jamie Dorian feeds you grapes all day long…
So just to make sure Gobshite Boy KNOWS how fecking AMAZING you are for dragging your arse ljt of bed for the 4th time since you got into it, you quietly and subtly SNEAK out of bed, tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, leaving him to his slumber…

Or, you dramatically THROW the duvet off BOTH of you, sighing and grumbling things like “FINE. I’LL get up AGAIN shall I? Watch now in case Mammy MIGHT get a FUCKING SLEEP.  YOU SLEEP ON THERE DARLING. DON’T LET YOUR KNACKERED WIFE OR YOUR 2 LITTLE DARLINGS DISTURB YOU THERE NOW WILL YOU.” And just for fear, he hasn’t realised that youre a tad annoyed, give the door a good SLAM as you leave your beloved to roll back over.

He’s knackered too God Love Him.

All that sleeping has him SHATTERED.
But being the martyr you are, you stagger to the kitchen, baby on hip, minion skipping beside you. Yes. Skipping. At 6.13am.
You change nappies, pour milk, feed minions, turn on Scoobyfuckingdoo and make coffee, which you don’t even get to drink. You try to be optimistic and think about #sundaysnuggles but your little Darlings don’t DOOOOO snuggles. They prefer to ignore you except for snarling for food, pull out toys and saucepans, and terrorise each other.  The only way you can guarantee snuggles is if you dare look like you’re taking a snooze. Then, they’re on top of you until they’re convinced that you are awake and alert enough for them to ignore you again. 👇👇👇


And all the while, Sanctimammy in your head is thinking, “They are perfect. I am a wonderful 6am earth Mamma and they are precious and I really do love watching them play. And my Darling Him needs a lie in really. Who needs sleep anyway? #soblessed” 

But the REAL Mammy is thinking “Me. ME. THAT’S who needs a sleep. Me. And of course I love to watch them play, but only after 8.30am, you know, in ACTUAL DAYTIME? And FECK Him the Big snoring Twat. I deserve a sleep-in this morning soooooo much more than he does. Gobshite. #soblessedmyarse #FML”
Anyway, a coffee shall fix everything no doubt.
You may as well do a load of washing. You’re up now anyway. But then you remember there’s cake in the fridge…and suddenly all is right with the world.
Of course, things could be worse Mamma Bear, but you know what? That doesn’t mean that you can’t have a grumble does it?

😘😘😘😘

I am Simple letter to my Birthday Girl Mum 

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​Dear Mini-Me 
5.

FIVE.

Holy Jemima…where did that go? 
I’ve just tucked you in after your special day.  You’re creamcrackered and tucked up between your new Trolls dolls, so I’m guessing that there’ll be no sleep for the next hour or so anyway. 

It’s been a busy day, filled with fun and family and presents and cake.
Mammy did her very best to make it perfect.

To make it memorable.

To make you have the most wonderful day ever.
This birthday is particularly important to Mammy.  Why? Because I remember when I turned 5.  I remember it vividly. It’s probably one of my clearest early memories.

I remember wakening up that morning and just KNOWING that it was a big deal.  I was 5. Finally. I was the SAME age as my two best friends. The same age as my cousin Karen. And more importantly, I was FINALLY older than your uncle Danny again! It was really annoying being the same age as him for 3 weeks each year.  

Being 5 fixed that. 😂
I had made it.  I was 5.  I remember Granda saying “Where’s my big 5 year old?”, and hugging me, (just like your Daddy did you this morning), and feeling sooooooo grown up. 
I remember getting a Nurse’s costume and a little Nurse’s set and I decided there and then I would be a Nurse when I grew up.  That changed. And that’s OK. You’ll change your mind too. Today, you want to be a farmer and a Superhero. You can do whatever you want to be.  

Because you’re brilliant.
I remember having 3 friends come over after school for cake.  I remember Granny and Granda coming for tea. I remember going to bed that night, wondering what would happen tomorrow, now that I was the grand old age of 5.  I remember thinking that it had been the best birthday ever…

Because it was. 

I don’t remember anything else, except the good things.

I’m sure there were squabbles. I’m sure I was told off once or twice.  I’m sure there were moments of that perfect day that were normal and ordinary and maybe even crappy, but my memory (with the help of my mum and dad) only allowed the happy to stay in my mind.
And I hope and pray that this will be the same for you, when you look back on YOUR 5th birthday someday. 💖
And I hope that you are as lucky as your Mammy has been to have your own little buddy by then.

And that you too try to make her 5th birthday a happy one.

Because I did try. And I hope I succeeded.
I even tried extra hard to NOT scold or give out to you because it’s your birthday.  I did OK. Yes, we had that wee row before bedtime. But I’ve already said I’m sorry and that I love you and tried to explain that you have to TRY to listen to me sometimes.  I know I shouldn’t have scolded on your special day, but Mammy is sometimes quite terrible and grumpy and needs a kick up the arse.  And believe me, Mammy felt quite shitty afterwards. It’s OK though, because we had a talk and a cuddle and read a story and talked about the day you were born and I’ve told you all the things I love about you, so I hope that has helped you go to bed knowing that I love you so much it sometimes hurts. 😥

Because I do.💖💖
I love your face, your beautiful eyes, your little nose, those rosebud lips, your voice, your gangly limbs, your humour, your wit and that kind and sensitive little heart which I try every day to strengthen and build up, although sometimes I feel like I do nothing but break it. 

And someday, you’ll be a Mammy too and you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
You’ve had a nice day. You’ve felt like you’re the centre of the universe for a day. And even your sister being sick and grumpiful all afternoon didn’t upset you did it? 

Because you won’t remember that anyway will you? 

Because with her, all you see is love and fun.

And I hope that lasts forever.

Because this 👇👇👇 THIS little birthday hug right here👇👇👇, is all that matters in the world, to you, to her and to us.


So if you read this, whether you’re 15 or 35, remember whatever you can about your 5th birthday and do me a favour? Ring me or visit and tell me about it.  
Oh, and go hug your sister.

You’re never too old for that. 💖💖
Happy birthday my Mini-Me 

You Mamma Bear x

Xxxxxxxxx

I am Some things I learned from my flu Mum!

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​S-Mum is sick. 😣😣
I am Absolutely DOSED with that shitty flu that seems to have been going around since October.  Up until now, I have regally flipped the finger at Miss Flu on many occasions, while smugly muttering “Toddle on by bitch”.
Everyone in the house has had it.  

Everyone in the family has had it.

And S-Mum managed to evade it…until now.
The Him and both girls were very sick with it before Santa, and miraculously, I managed to avoid it.
Perhaps my immune system is so strong because of all the unicorn fart capsules I consume? (Watch this space for my Poo Plus Capsules! 😂😂)

Perhaps my body has a wall which keeps all the nasty little bugs out? (Trump might want to take notes.)

Perhaps there is truth in the “5 a day” technique and my copious consumption of grapejuice has pickled me to such a sterile environment that germs can’t breed?
Or perhaps, as Mammy, I just didn’t have TIME to get sick because I was LOOKING AFTER EVERYONE ELSE!
So since Sunday, the flu has hit.

And I have discovered 5 things.
1. Noise becomes even louder when you have flu.  I have a non existant tolerance for noise at the best of times, especially background noises,  so this means that S-Mum’s temper is shorter than usual.

Don’t say you weren’t warned. 😈
2. Your nose CAN drip.  Like ACTUALLY DRIP.  The way it does in movies. The way it does on babies and toddlers, where you assume that they just don’t know HOW to keep it clean. It can actually, simply and suddenly drip and make you look and feel like a dirty Snotterskank.  
3. Tissues can rip the nostrils off you.  And the skin around the nostrils is much more sensitive and delicate than we give it credit for.  And even using the fancypants “soothing” tissues, eventually will still rip said nostrils to bits if you use enough of them.
4. BABY BUM CREAM is THE best thing EVER.  HOW have I never realised this? The aforementioned scourged nostrils were so badly flared last night that they looked like an infected nether-region.  Moisturisers were stinging. Even vaseline was hurting.  And then, I had the brainwave of lifting the Bepanthem cream and sloshing it on my nostrils and I SWEAR TO GOD, within 3 minutes, the stinging had stopped and the redness disappeared.

Yes.  I have reached a new low.

  I may have Chanel in my bathroom, but this week, I have arse cream on my face.

And it is fablis.
5. It is ridiculously easy to take too much paracetamol.

Joking aside for a second Ladybelles, I made a HUGE booboo yesterday.  In my effort to carry on being Supermum, to remain vertical, functioning and coherent at school and to generally JUST KEEP SWIMMING, I managed to almost OD on medicines. 

 I wasn’t going to share this as I felt so fucking stupid last night, but you know what? It’s so easy to do and I had two colleagues tell me today that they’ve done the exact same thing, so I don’t feel like such a thick Twatsickle now.

Mammies are so determined to stay standing to keep looking after everything and everyone else, that we don’t think. Without going into details, I accidentally took far too many cold & flu remedies, having forgotten the 2 paracetamol I’d taken during a class where my head was lifting.  I became really ill, really quickly and The Him had ro come to my rescue.  After an afternoon of sleeping and some power puking, I finally came around enough to realise my mistake.  

Talk about feeling stupid? When the kids (and even The Him) are sick, I write down every drop I’ve given them and the time, just to make sure I never feck up dosages.

But for myself? Nah, that would have made sense wouldn’t it?

Thankfully, I was fine after a few hours, but I frightened myself at how easily it happened.
And then TODAY?  A text conversation with Himself…

Him: How you feeling now Love of my Life, apple of my eye, light of my world? 😈
Me: Like shite. How’s you?
Him: Just heading to the chemist here. Am crashing badly. Think I’m getting your flu…
OH NO YOU DON’T FUCKWIT.  IT’S MY TURN. If I have to succumb to the snotters and swimming head and sore ears for a few days, you WILL REMAIN IN FULL HEALTH and RESCUE me and pour TLC over me and COOK for me and generally MAKE IT ALL BETTER. 

WILL YOU FECK pull out the Manflu card?

And if you do? 

Feck off home to your Mammy because THIS Mamma Bear is done and I’m NOT sharing the Bum Cream…

Have a lovely evening Ladybelles.  

Hope the kids are in bed and you get those feet up for a bit. 😘😘😘

I am So THAT’s my Baby Mum!

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​Every day, I get to know my minions better.
I am waiting patiently to understand them.  I may wait on by the look of things.
Mini-Me ADORED these books 👇👇👇 when she was younger.  We have most of them, still perfect condition, despite having been read 12 times a day for about 18 months.


Today, I learned something about her…

She is a gentle little lady, who despite having the temper of her mother and the patience of…well, her mother, is quite the delicate flower who looks after her stuff quite well.  
Especially books.
How did I learn this? 

WELL, I found this book today and decided to introduce Princess to our tradition.

And within 5 minutes, the pristine and perfect book looked like THIS. 👇👇👇👇


Mini-Me used to turn the pages gently and point sweetly at the “wee mouse” and cheep at the “wee birdies”.  She’d tentatively touch the sensory sections and her mind would flourish poetically and grow beautifully before my very eyes… 💖💖
Princess ripped the fecking book in bits… like the Hulk that she is…and banged it REPEATEDLY off the floor until she managed to bust the binding.  

5 minutes.

Rambo.
However, never one to dwell on the negative I have decided to perceive her reaction that she TOO was developing her sensory skills.  Her taste for reading can not be disputed either as she has tried many times to EAT the fecking book.  Not only do these books nourish the mind, they are great teethers too apparently.
And so there you go.  These little books do not ONLY educate and encourage and stimulate the minds of our minions, they can also teach Mammies the differences in the personalities of her two little darlings. 😂😂