I am Savouring Friday Night Mum

We did it.
We made it.
It’s Friday.
It is Feck-it-o-clock and this Mammy is KNACKERED beyond belief.

“I am so tired” says Mammy.
“Go to bed then” says The Him.
“WTF is WRONG with you?” answers Mammy.
“You’re tired. If you’re tired, go to bed.”

Mammy stares at the ridiculous man who has just said the most ridiculous thing a Him could ever say to a Mammy on a Friday night… 😅😅

“I will NOT go to bed” declares Mammy. 😶
“Why? Why the hell not? You’ve had a rough week. If you are tired, GO TO BED!” The Him is looking at Him’s wife, probably torn between thinking how sexiful she looks in her fleecy oversized pjs and thinking how strange his little woman can be.

“It’s 9pm on a Friday night” explains Mammy.
“And WHAT? Go to your bed!”
“Did you not HEAR me? It’s FRIDAY NIGHT!”
“AND WHAT?”

Ffs.
“And what” says he? 😤😤😤

“I’ll tell you WHAT, you silly Man… it is FRIDAY. Friday nights are the highlight of Mammy’s week. FRIDAYS are not to be rushed. Friday nights are to be worshipped and adored. Mammy has SURVIVED the week of being a Full-time Mammy with a full-time Job. THIS particular week has had a puking Baby thrown into the mix and so THIS particular Friday night is more anticipated and dreamed about than others. No matter how knackered Mammy is, on Friday night, she SHALL pour at least 2 glasses of grapes, sit on her sofa and watch utter shite on the Tellybox until AT LEAST 11pm. It’s one of those rules that should be on page 3890 of “What to Expect…the lifetime edition”. And regardless of how physically and emotionally drained a Mammy is at 9pm on Friday night, going to BED before 11pm would mean WASTING one of the ONLY fecking Minion-free joys Mammy has to look forward to during the week. 😑 It would mean that she would wake up on “Suddenly Saturday” and the weekend would be almost over already. So NO, TURBOTWAT, MAMMY will NOT just GO TO FECKING BED! That would be silly. Mammy can not let the side down. Mammy must savour the night of the Friday and the virtual Hurrah with other Mammies and the virtual cheers that go up from screens on sofas all over the country…
Mammy must sit here yawning and refuse to do the obvious thing… just because THAT’S why…
Because it’s FRIDAY NIGHT!”

By now, The Him is thinking HE might just go to bed and leave the Crazy Lady to her grapes and Graham..😂

He’s knackered listening to her.

Cheers my Lovely Ladybelles.🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

I am Sportswear Mum

I always KNEW that Michael-of-the-Murphy would propose to me one day…

Well, it wasn’t as much a “proposal” as a proposition…

OK, HE didn’t call me himself, but one of his people did so it’s kind of the same thing no?

And it was more of an invitation than a proposal, but hey!  Perspective eh?

              Michael Murphy Sports and Leisure at Station Roundabout, Letterkenny

The lovely people at Michael Murphy Sports and Leisure in Letterkenny saw my post on Instagram about how my gym gear isn’t quite “cutting the mustard” or “hiding the hiney” when this Mammy drops it like it’s “squat”.  They invited me to come in and try on some of their Ladieswear in the store.  I’m already a customer so I agreed to pop in on Saturday morning.

Now, I have always bought my trainers here, but I must admit that I often sauntered straight to the footwear section, not quite paying attention to the training gear. I got quite the shock when I saw the full wall of Elle Sportswear. And when Laura began to show much how much of the store is actually dedicated to female clothing, I was impressed.

They even have it displayed with your needs in mind; so gym gear is on one wall, running wear on another, with leisure wear and hoodies beside these. Everything is positioned according to colours and brands, making mix and match very easy.

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“What are you looking for?” Laura asks me.

I tell her I need bottoms that won’t stretch to see-through in the gym. Whatever about The Him seeing that view, my gym buddies do NOT need to. (Note to everyone. Leggings in the gym do NOT work.)

I am also looking for some nice leisurewear that will be comfortable but still dressy.  You all know that I live in my trackies at the weekend. I wanted something that will look good in the gym or out and about, but also if we decide to go for lunch on a “Sunday Funday”.

She asked me my size in shoes and clothes and off she popped. 5 minutes later, the changing room is full of matching outfits. There’s even room for a buggy in the changing room Mammies, so you can easily try on a few bits with Michael of the Murphy keeping an eye on your minions. 🙂

 

I loved ALL of the gear. I don’t usually go for patterns, but was pleasantly surprised at these.

I came away with the very sassiful and sexiful ELLE top and bottoms and a gorgeous pair of PUMA runners, which I test drove in Glenveagh on Sunday.  The outfit was cozy and comfy and the shoes surprised me. (I wouldn’t have usually gone for that style, but I love them. I’ll be bringing them with me to traipse around London on school tour next weekend.)

I went BACK for the blue outfit during the week and am waiting for payday to get the ELLE jumper.  🙂  I may have to limit my visits…

Laura was so professional and so very honest, which I LOVE in a shop. Don’t tell me lies to get me to buy.

So yes Ladies.  If you thought Michael Murphys was just about GAA, GOLF and Menfolk, think again.  These Ladybelles know their fashion and I can’t wait to see the new stock. Laura’s face lit up as she was explaining what’s coming in over the Autumn. I look forward to seeing it.

Thanks Laura!

And Michael-of-the-Murphy?  Yes, my answer is YES!

22070497_10159244309215167_764079570_o(The Kiddy section is amazing too. )

#michaelmurphysportsandleisure  #collab #sp #Ellesports #puma #gymmum

I am Sleeping on my Head Mum

Well my little Princess is much better. Thank you for all the messages.

When Mini-Me was her age, she used to wake up at 5am and come into the bed between The Him and I for a wee snooze. She’d choose which of us she wanted to snuggle, swing her wee arm around a neck and settle in for another sleep. ❤❤❤

Princess has NEVER been like this. 😶
She only sleeps in our bed if she’s sick.
This morning, she woke at 5.30am. Being the knackered Mombie that I am after 3 rough days and 3 nights of no sleep, I brought her in between us, praying that she’d go back to sleep for an hour.
Lo and behold, she did.

She wrapped herself like a fecking CAT around my head, and no matter how many times I gently moved her off me, she shuffled her fudgybum back onto me each time.

I woke up looking right into her perfect wee face, innocent and still, breathing little kitten breaths ❤ and cooing gently, and I filled with a warm fuzzy fluffy joy at the sight.😍 She looked just like her big sister. I closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of her nose against mine…and then I remembered WHY I had brought her into the bed and I FROZE!

You see, princess is a silent puker. When she is sick, there is NO SOUND.
NONE… NOT A PEEP.
Just puke.
And no sleep. (Just me, sitting up in the bed, snoozing, WEARING my glasses, ready to grab her and the basin in 0.4 seconds.😥😂)

And so I remembered VERY quickly that it wasn’t my LOVE of having Baby-in-the-bed, but rather my FEAR of Baby-in-the-puke that made me break the norm and bring her in to my bed. And I realised that if she DID indeed decide to, the my face was 100% in line for a face mask.

I wasn’t long forgetting the warm fuzziness and manoeuvring that pretty little face away from mine Ladybelles, let me tell you.😂😂 I don’t think I’ve moved that fast EVER before!

Thankfully, she’s much better and thanks to magic pink medicine, normality has resumed.

The only side effect is that she seems to have grown a set of fluffy Bear ears👇👇👇,

…but I’ll take fluffy bear ears over sad panda eyes and puke ANY DAY! 😂😂😂

In other news, did you KNOW that cutting a child’s toast into triangles instead of windows is a bonafide reason for WW3 to break out in your house before 8am?

Silly Daddy. 😯

(How cute is the wee band? €4 in Dunnes Stores Ladybelles! )

I am Section Mum

With 2 good friends scheduled in for Sections this week, I thought I’d reshare one of my most read posts for you…and for them. You are warriors Mamma Bears. Can’t wait to meet the wee cubs. Xxx

The S-Mum

“Are you hoping to do it properly this time?”

I kid you not. This is what I was asked recentlyby another Soon-to-be Mum with whom I was having the “When are you due?”conversation.

She’d asked if this was my first. I’d answered that it was number two.

“Me too” she smiled. Then she asked if I’d had a tough time last time. I replied that I’d had to have a planned section. Her next line floored me.

“Aw, so are you planning to do it properly this time?”

cesarean

Now in her defense, she was anabsolute stranger, who probably didn’t intend any harm whatsoever. I don’t think she even realised that she’d said it…but she had.

I smiled politely and said Goodbye. As I walked away, my smile remained on my face, somewhat forced… I wasn’t quite sure whether I wanted to laugh or to cry.

Smug I-push-mine-out-Mum carried on, oblivious…

View original post 838 more words

I am Stop Body Shaming -Part 2

If you think that the public ownership of your bump disappears after pregnancy, you’re wrong!

Your post-baby belly and bootay may seem to remain public property LONG after your uterus has finally stopped SCREAMING at you and your ladybits have decided to no longer HATE YOU.

HOW and WHEN you get back to your pre-baby shape, is everybody’s business apparently.
In both of my pregnancies, I put on quite a bit of weight (not bump!).
My post Mini-Me BOOTAY in Pregnancy 1 was mostly a result of very hard work… (eating cream buns and hot chocolate, with cream of course, was hard work alright!)
I’d had a tough pregnancy and was put off work very early. Looking back, I was probably struggling a bit and food made me feel better.

It took me 18 months to get back to my pre-bump self.
Pregnancy no 2 was different. I was in better health, eating well, exercised up to 6 months and crammed in pregnancy pilates and reflexology. It was much more enjoyable and much less depressing than first time round, but I still managed to gain a fablis amount of weight.
And both times, it was worth every ounce and I enjoyed every bite!

The LAST thing ANY pregnant lady needs to be worrying about is their weight.
But when Baby is here and you’re getting back into routine, may it be after a few weeks or a few months, or a few years…at some point, we all strive to get back to being US.

For some people, that means getting back to work. For some, it means starting back at a hobby. For some, it means getting back in shape.
Even the fact that as I write this, I am hoping that other Mummies don’t read it and get annoyed because I’m talking about weight, is the perfect example of how bloody sensitive the subject is.

I am writing about me.

Just Me… not you.
It’s all personal.

It’s all about perspective.


(Mini-Me helping me stretch in Jim)

I love to train. I like to hit things with hammers and lift heavy things. I feel good when I’m a certain shape. I keep my mental health in check when I get to train. I find that it falters if I don’t get to train. I’m not particularly vain…I’ll happily go out and about looking like a badger’s nether-regions, (I often do!), but I like to look a certain way so I do my best to do so.

That’s not a reflection on anyone else. It’s just me.

So what has this got to do with Bodyshaming?
Some of the lines I heard after I started training again last May, when Princess was 6 months old.

“What are you doing back at the gym already?” (Look of disapproval.)

I’m sorry, does this offend you? Not that it’s any of your business, but this is my second attempt at starting back because The Him sent me home on my first attempt 2 months earlier, telling me I wasn’t ready yet. ( He was right.)

“Cop yourself on, you’ve just had a BABY!”

Well actually, my Baby is 6 months old and now I feel like I need to get out of the house a few hours a week.

“You’re grand the way you are.”

Thank you. I know you mean well and that is very sweet, but it’s ME who has to feel good about me. Not you.

“You shouldn’t even be THINKING about exercise yet.”

Why exactly? I enjoy it. I miss it. I’m not asking you to do it for me, am I?

“For God’s sake, stop worrying about your weight!”

Maybe, just MAYBE, my weight is NOT the main reason I want to train. People train for exercise, for me-time, for their sanity, for (shock horror) ENJOYMENT!

And WHY the hell does ANYONE think that it’s OK to tell ANYONE to stop worrying about THEIR weight anyway?
You NEVER know who has their own demons to deal with. You have no idea what the person you are talking to sees when they look in the mirror; what they’ve struggled with in the past; what THEY feel is THEIR beautiful. Telling someone to stop worrying about their weight, is akin to telling someone who’s sad to cheer up.

But my favourite one… “Wise up. You should be ENJOYING your Baby.”

Where do I even start with this one? If you dare to leave the baby for an hour to go to the doctor or do the shopping, that’s fine…but the GYM? Well you must not “Enjoy” your Baby…put it back in there why don’t you?

Seriously.

When you’re expecting your baby, you have NO CONTROL over your body. NONE!
AFTER you’ve had your baby, you have even LESS control over your body!
Things are different. Things don’t work. (Other things work WAY too enthusiastically.) Even stepping out of the car too quickly can make you feel like your insides are going to fall out!

It takes time to feel like you’re in charge of YOU again.
So if and when, you decide that you FINALLY feel ready to take a little bit of control back, take it.
Like the Bumps, most of those who comment mean NO HARM WHATSOEVER. In fact, they’re usually trying to make you feel better.

Some comment because they’re uncomfortable that you are training again after a baby and it annoys them for some reason.
But like with the Bumps, the opinion of others is simply that. An opinion and other people’s opinions shouldn’t affect your confidence. They shouldn’t make you doubt yourself. They certainly shouldn’t make you feel the need to explain yourself.
So don’t.

Instead, Love yourself.
Love how you look in all your squishee-belly-ness as your body recovers from cooking that perfect little cupcake.
And if and when you feel like getting back into those jeans, or into that dress, GO FOR IT!

Surround yourself with positive Ladybelles and let the negativity roll off your amazing stretchy skin. (Warwounds, not stretchmarks!)

May it be walking, Slimming World, Exercise classes, Personal Training, pilates… DO WHATEVER YOU ENJOY AND WHATEVER WORKS FOR YOU. (Except the Weight loss…sorry “lifestyle” pills, shakes, teas, diets etc. They are BAD no matter HOW they are pitched or advertised.)

And if you DON’T feel like thinking about exercise yet, or ever, good for you too. That’s no one else’s beeswax but your own.

The S-Mum xxx

(Updated post. Always relevant!)

First published 2016.

Last published on http://www.donegalwoman.ie Sept 2017

I am Stop Bump Shaming Mum -Part 1

Yes.  I’m saying it.

Stop Body Shaming bumps.😡
Body Shaming happens to all women, of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, all the time…EVEN, believe it or not, during Pregnancy. 😲
Yes, Pregnancy…
You know that time when you are eating for two and are supposed to GLOW like a fricken Christmas Tree and your body is a temple of growth and nurture, for all to admire and be in awe of?     When you’re also a hormonal wreck, paranoid, vulnerable and particularly susceptible to tears? 😢😢

When you’re growing a PERSON inside of you; sometimes more than one, 😥and you are officially exempt from giving a continental crap about your shape for the next year and more?
Yes. Even then.
Body shaming the Bump DOES happen.

It’s not usually intentional, but it happens.
I have a confession to make.
During my last pregnancy… (and I mean last in both senses of that word!)…I did something mean. 😈
I got so fecking SICK of people freaking out when they saw the size of my bump, that one day I decided to have a little fun with it.
I was HUMONGOUS.  (And no, I am NOT exaggerating.  Ask ANY of my family or friends and they will smile a meek smile and nod in agreement.) And just to prove how big my perfect bump was, the photograph below was taken when I was 36 weeks.  And I wasn’t quite as big as I would be at 39! 😂👇👇👇👇👇👇

With Mini-Me, I showed at 10 weeks.

With Princess, I got to 7 weeks before I got fed up trying to hide my bump.

I have always been quite slim so in fairness, trying to hide a bump was never going to be easy, but even loose tops didn’t cover my little (or not so little) secret.

We never really got the chance to keep it to ourselves until after the 12 week scan, so you can imagine how big I was by 31 weeks.  I looked bigger than most expectant Mammas look at full term. 😂

I walked into a shop at the end of 31st week and the look of panic on the shop assistant’s face when she clocked the BUMP was hilarious.  She approached me and flew through the usual chitchat to get straight to her point.
“When are you due love?”

I couldn’t help myself my Pretties.  It was out before I even thought about it.
“Ten days ago”, I answered, shaking my head and rubbing my big belly, “I’m hoping a walk around the shops will help get me started.” (added puffs for effect…pause as if whincing in pain…)

“Here let me help you!”  I swear to God, she ran around that shop filling  my wee basket so quickly, I really couldn’t keep up with her.

“All the best now Lovey, I hope all goes well!” she cooed after me as I left.  I’m pretty sure she needed a strong drink after that.  and yes, I shouldn’t have lied, but I was fed up.
For almost 10 months, you become the property of the world.  (and yes, it is 10 months…9 my arse.)
EVERYONE has an opinion.
You’re so HUGE!”  (Really?  I hadn’t noticed.  Is that why my pelvis is dragging on the ground when I walk?)😐
“I was never as big as you!”  (Piss off.) 😐
“Aw poor Maria.  You must be scundered…”  (No Deary.  I’m just pregnant.)😐

“Well Tracy SAID you were huge but I didn’t think you were THIS HUGE!”  (Yup.  For this one, I had to kick my sister under the table to stop her from DESTROYING the unintentionally offensive woman.)😅

“Is it heavy?”   (In fairness, this question was from a lovely friend who has bever been pregnant so it was a genuine question and I gave her a genuine answer…”Yes.  I feel like I’m carrying an articulated fecking LORRY on my ladybits.”)
“I suppose you can barely move with that bump?”  (God Noooo!  I’m just back from Irish Dancing.  I’m high kicking Higher than ever before!)😂

Aaaaaaah you’re not THAT big!”  OK, OK.  Who am I kidding?  I NEVER heard this one! 😅😂

“You must be nearly due?”  (No I’m only 28/30/32/34 weeks…cue shock/horror/sympathy/panic on their face.)
And these are only the few I remember.
And so maybe now, you understand why I played the trick.
Do I feel guilty? No, but I felt really fricken frustrated a few weeks later when I didn’t have the balls to go in with my even BIGGER Bump and I really wanted a certain cheese the lady stocked. 😆😆
But seriously, Stop it.  We all need to stop it. (And of course I include myself in this.  We ALL do it don’t we?)

In fairness, we don’t even realise we’re doing it.

The things we say to a pregnant lady are usually not intending ANY offence AT ALL.  Of course not.
But if you’re going to say anything, try not to comment on the bump.
Tell her she looks glowing, even if you think she looks knackered.

Tell her she’s gorgeous, even if she looks like the double decker Bus she feels like she’s carrying.

Tell her it suits her.  She might just need to hear that, but don’t comment on the size of the bump, regardless whether it’s big or small.
The Mammy who hears “You’re so neat”, might have spent the whole night up counting baby’s kicks, or panicking that her bump is too small compared to others. 😣

The Mammy who hears “You’re huge!” doesn’t need to be reminded.  Trust me, she already knows. She remembered once she opened her eyes this morning and tried, like an upturned turtle, to get out of the bed to pee. 😅
So keep it positive and keep it off the bump.

And yes I know that many people don’t mind and maybe even enjoy the attention the bump brings, but unless you’re telling them their bump is gorgeous, just Ssssssh!
And then…THEN comes the Post Baby body Shaming but that’s another post altogether. I’ll save that for Moody-Mum Monday.
Goodnight you #GlammyMammies.
You’re beautiful and your bump is perfect.  That is all you need to hear.

S-Mum  xxx

pregnancy-784671__340

I am She’s not quite getting it Mum

Mini-Me: Mammy, Did you know Uncle D and Aunty P gotted maawied FREE times?

Mammy: Three times? Why do you say that?

Mini-Me: Sure cos dey have FREE children. Dat means dey gotted maawied free times.

Me: Oh Really? (I’m pretty sure there’s nothung FREE about 3 kids!) And so how many times have Uncle C and Aunty B been married?

Mini-Me: Eh you KNOW dat? DEY have TWO children so TWO times like…

Me: And does that mean me and Daddy got married twice too?

Mini-Me: Yes. You and Daddy gotted maaaaawied twice. Once for me. Once for Fudge. (Her nickname for the littlest shitster 💖😆)

Me: Gosh I don’t remember getting married twice Daddy, do you?
(And I know I’d remember having had a new dress and fab shoes and another hen party… come to think of it, is it time to renew our vows yet? 😂😂)

He laughs. And then…

The Him: So do you have to get married EVERY TIME you get a new baby?

Mini-Me: Yup. (Smugness personified.. 🙃)

The Him: Did YOU know that your Granny M (The Queen Mother of all the world) had TEN Babies?

Mini-Me: 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

Speechless

That’s a WHOLE lot of weddings eh? And a WHOLE lot of dresses. 😘

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

#innocence #speechless