I am She’s a Wagon is Roz Mum

Mammy’s jeep is called “Roz”.

I got her the same day I got the part of Roz in our production of 9 to 5 last winter. And so it seemed apt to name her Roz.   Beats Betsy or the yok, doesn’t it?

Roz is very fablis, but mostly, she is fablis because she can talk to me. Roz is like a real life person. If I am in the car on my own, I don’t have to feel lonely.  I just have to press a wee button and say something and I am guaranteed that Rozzie will answer me. She is my friend. She does what she’s told and unlike my minions doesn’t answer me back. Now granted, 80% of the time Roz says things like “Phone not detected” or “I’m sorry. Can you repeat please?”  And because she has an American accent, sometimes she misunderstands my ineloquent Donegalisms and will dial random numbers of people I haven’t spoken to in years.  In fact, one of the first nights I was driving her, I decided to show off to my sister.

“Call Lorr-aine” I ordered, slowly and in my “How-now-brown-cow” voice.  “Calling Laura Aynder…”

“FAAAAAAACK”  Mammy was screaming, frantically hitting the lever to end the call before it began.  The only reason the number Roz was dialling is still on my phone, is to make sure I don’t answer that wagon if she ever rings me. (Name changed obviously! I do not know any wagonish Lauras.)

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And so, I learned to be verrrrrrrrry clear and precise in my instructions to her.

One of the other fablis tricks Roz has is to read messages if they come in while I’m driving.  And so, on Saturday, half way up the dual carriageway, the radio is interrupted by “New Message”.  I get quite excited as I haven’t heard that in a while, and reply “Read Message”.  I don’t often be getting the oul messages anymore, as everyone now uses Snaptwat and Instagranny to communicate. I miss the ould messages so I do.

Message from 087…I don’t know the number. Oooooh the excitement.

“Hi Maaaaar-eeeaaaa.  Japonica* would like toooooo INVITE your Mini-Meeee TO HER Birthday Partay fullstop on Sat next at 3pim in Partywaaruld. I dooooo hope sheeeee can make it.  ex ex Exclamation mark”.

Mammy is instantly regretting hitting play. Not because of the text, but because Mini-Me has now HEARD the message. Let me explain. If she is able to attend a birthday party, I tend to NOT tell her about it until the day before. Because you see if anything were to come up and our plans had to change, I can not be dealing with the apoplectic melt-down that Mini-Me likes to have. Also, it is good parenting practice to have some blackmail/bait for behaviour rectification up one’s sleeve, is it not?

Shit shit shit shit, how shall Mammy get out of this one.

Mini-Me has not responded.  She is sitting quietly.  I’m about to engage with the idea that she hasn’t actually heard the message until I glance in the rear-view mirror and see that her jaw is actually on the floor.

“Oh My GOD Mammy! Did you HEAR that?”

“Hear what pet?” (shit)

“Roz has just invited me to my own birthday party on Saturday!”

“Huh?” (fookity fook…)

“Your friend Roz has just told you that I have to go to my birthday party on Saturday!”

“WHY would you be having a birthday party on Saturday?  It’s not your birthday!”

“But she said “HER” birthday. Maybe I’m having a party for my 6 and 3/4 birthday!” (WTF?)

“You are not 6 and 3/4 and you are not having a birthday party on Saturday.”

“But if it isn’t MY birthday, why are we having a party?”

“We’re NOT having a party…”

“Oh my Pancake Mammy!” (Yes, this is something we say apparently…)  “Is Roz having a party?”

“Roz is a car”

“Yeah, but she’s real.  Sure how would she know about my party if she wasn’t?”

“We aren’t having a party.  Japonica is having a party. Roz is just reading the message from Japonica’s mummy.”

“DOh my GOSH!? Is Roz friends with Japonica’s Mammy too?”

What does Mammy even say to that? And what exactly does she think Roz is? Does she think I carry a little Gollumesque little American woman around under the bonnet?

I don’t by the way, but I also am trusting Roz less and less.  I’m foreseeing some I-robot shit going down some evening, where I decide I’m going one place, and Roz decides I’m not.

Now, to delete some numbers off my phone!

I am Some Things the Baby Books Forgot to Mention Mum

I am ‘Some things the Baby Books forgot to mention’ Mum

Feel free to sing along!
“Nappies and dodees” should be read/sung to the tune of “Raindrops and Roses” from The Sound of Music.

“Nappies and Dodees and cute little sockies

Big teddies, small teddies, horseys that rockie,

Elephant mobiles that fly on their strings

These are just some of the new baby’s things.

Baskets from Moses and funky shaped pillows

Grufallos, Minnie Mouse, Wind in the Willows,

Breast pumps and bobos and wee plastic pots,

Plastic spoons needed for feeding your tots.

Where’s the dummy?

Close the stairgate.

Get the nappy baaaag.

I simply can’t deal with this amount of stuff

I miss the space that I had.

Cushions and door clips and safety latches

Lift all those candles and hide all the matches

Puke cloths and poop bags and powders and creams,

Lego and Stains on all of your things.

Carseats and carriers, high chairs and bouncers

Moniters, teethers and measures for ounces

Video moniters keep mammy calm

And Daddy’s still learning how to fold up the pram.

Toys toys toys toys

Toys toys toys toys

Did I mention toys?

I simply am listing the simplest of things

We gather for girls…and boys.”

The BS Bibles spout such shite as “Don’t worry! Babies don’t need to take up ALL the space in your home.  Dedicate a shelf or drawer in your living room to baby essentials to keep them close at hand.  The Baby’s clothes etc should be kept in Baby’s nursery (includes image of pale grey amd white, empty, tidy nursery…)  The moses basket should be in a well appointed space, not too close to any radiators or drafty doors/windows. A well organised changing station will help keep the home mess free.”

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Beautiful, isn’t it?

Where does it prepare us for the explosion of STUFF that ensures that EVERY nook and cranny of your once tidyish home gets covered in Baby?  It’s like a giant Baby lifts the roof off your house and projectile VOMITS a load of utter CRAP all over EVERYTHING.

No room escapes and while for the first few weeks you might be able to contain the Baby stuff to a few baskets or to one corner, once they begin to play with toys or move about, the house slowly becomes overwhelmed by toys that seem to reproduce and multiply while we sleep.And just like the list the BS Bibles give you, this is by no means exhaustive.

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This was my kitchen on a good day!

You will find more crap to add to it and you will wonder why you didn’t take millions of photographs of your lovely fengshuiyed, Cath Kitsonesque, picture perfect home BC to send to ‘House and Home’.

And as for new furniture or carpets?

Don’t bother your arse until they’re old enough to know NOT to write on the cushions with glitter glue. 
Wrecking balls…

Absolute wrecking balls. 😂😂😂

Giveaway – Babynow Teether Ball

The lovely Dan Connolly from Cork mailed me to see if I would like to review his product.  Now as my girls are past this and because I don’t do the whole “I’ll review if you pay me to craic”, I declined.  So instead he offered to send me 3 sets of these lovely wee teething balls to give away to my followers.

I agreed on the condition that I liked them.  If I didn’t, I’d be returning them.

And guess what, I like them.  I’m a bit sad actually that I hadn’t found them while Princess was in the hellish horrors of the slabbering and screaming a few months ago. And while she could still get some joy from them, at 2 and a half, she’d more likely to throw them, so I’ve kept her hands away from them.

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They’re colourful and the colours are neutral and bright.  The material and glue used are food grade silicone and safe to little mouths.  The jingle of the little bell is lovely and they are a sensory dream.  A beautiful product which would be a wonderful gift for a new parent.

31369352_10160151839550167_1761351695654191104_nNot only have I got some sets to give away, Dan has kindly reduced the price of them on his amazon page for my blog readers this weekend!

Usually retailing at over €40, they are available to you for  £24.95!

 

 

This price is only valid from Friday to Sunday Night , for my followers by clicking here here!

 

This item has been developed by www.babynowbrand.com run by Daniel Connolly from Cork. He is an ecommerce entrepreneur and focuses on selling globally via the amazon.com marketplace.

If you fancy winning a set, hit on my facebook page before 1pm Saturday.

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I am Saying “Hi” Mum

Well it seems that Mammy has quite a few new readers over the past few weeks and so it’s only polite to say Hi!  Also, some of my lovely FB followers suggested that I not get lost behind the guise of only being Mammy, and so I thought it a good time to say Hi to you all.

Welcome to the madness of my life.

It might be humdrum and ordinary, but it certainly is not quiet or dull.  For those of you who have been following me a while, thank you for still being here!  And to those of you who have just stumbled into my pile of Smumbling, let me introduce myself.

I am Maria, a Donegal Mammy of two minions, one 6 and one 2.  We live in our palace on Smumble Hill.  Our palace is a messy, toy crowded bungalow with an impressive “layer of love” and windows that get washed once a year. We have cows in the field and a bare garden because Mammy could kill a plastic plant.

Mini-Me is 6, is an absolute drama queen (like her Mammy) and has provided me with some of the most wonderful and some of the most challenging moments of my life.  She is Mini-Me for a reason; not only is she my double in looks, she is a walking, talking miniature of myself…probably half the reason she drives me so bananas! She’s a wee legend.

Princess is 2 and she is a Dictator of the world in Training.  Hilarious and full of badness, she is not only keeping us on our toes, she is making us dance. She’s a rascal.

My husband, or The Him, is Mr Rushe Fitness and runs a gym (Jim) here in Letterkenny as well as an online training platform.  He’s quite the handsome oul devil and I still like him a lot. He’s the best Daddy and not bad at the Husband part either!  We have a very busy life and a very noisy house and as knackered as I am, I wouldn’t change a thing.

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I’ve been writing this blog for over 3 years and have been a finalist in quite a few National Blogger awards.  I’ve had loads of great opportunities and I still love that I never know what will be in my mailbox when I click open in the morning.

As well as blogging here, I am a teacher, I write stuff and I’m Director with our local musical society. I like to be busy.  While I love to get Glammy Mammied, 90% of the time I am either in gym gear or PJs.  I ROCK the badger’s arse look and I like to look windswept and interesting.  I am very good at that.

The S-Mum Blog is my Mammy voice. I like to make people laugh.  I like to show other Mammies that life is not and should not be instaperfect.  I am not one to use #soblessed or #mybestlife.  You’re more likely to see #wtf or #fml…

I do some collaborations with companies that I use and like and sometimes I run giveaways, but that is not the focus of my blog.  It never has been. It’s about writing and sharing and starting conversations…and sometimes making Mammies smile. I also do a bit of chatting at things.  I likes to chat. (No idea where Mini-Me gets it!)

I am a Gym Mammy, I love to train and I like my body to be a certain way.  Not only does it make me feel better physically, if I don’t lift things and hit things, I get a bit hormental. But don’t worry, I tend to keep my gym content over on Instagranny or on the lifestyle section here.

I also like wine and gin and good food. I can eat like a starved gorilla.

So there.  Boring yet busy.  Ordinary yet fun.  I’ll tell it as it is. I don’t accept BS and if you don’t like what I write, feel free to bugger off.  If you do, like and comment and enjoy the fun.

So there.

This is Mammy and Mammy says hi.  Thank you for following my Blog and I hope you enjoy  xx

 

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I am Still Counting Cows

cowsMammy loves cows.
“Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy” sings Princess, swinging off my legs as I try to cook her tea.
Try as I might, nothing is distracting her. I try my cross voice. I am about to resort to the naughty step as it her hanging off of me is nothing short of dangerous when pots are bubbling, when low and behold, my life and sanity are saved by cows.
Last night see, Granda put his lovely cows and their baby calves into the paddock beside us. Princess hadn’t paid much attention.
Mammy remembers back a few years to our first summer in the house, when in order to get Mini-Me to give me 5 minutes peace, Mammy had suggested that she go count Granda’s cows. It had worked and Mammy had enjoyed a cuppa on the doorstep while she’d stood counting “one, tooooo, freeeeee, seveeeeen, ten…” Mammy had of course felt like a terrible Mammy and sworn that she’d never do such a thing to her again. #badmammy
And Mammy has stuck to that promise. Because you see Mini-Me is not Princess, so it doesn’t count! But she does, so guess what happened next.
“OOOOOOH Look at Granda’s cows!”
Yeah whatever Mammy…Nope Not taking me on.
“Princess would you go over and count Granda’s cows for him please?”
“Ok Mammy!” and off she wobbled, before spending almost 9 minutes repeating “Wan, toooo, freeeee, fwiiiiive, seven, niiiine, ten,,, four….toooo”.
Oh the memories! Oh the cuteness! Oh the joy!
Yes indeed, Mammy loves the cows.