I am Soppy Oul Sap Mum

My Partner in Poo!

(I love you I do…)

“I take thee for richer, for poorer”, we said.

“For better for worse, in sickness, in health”

And while we meant all of these things on the day,

In hindsight, there’s probably more we should say.

“I’ll love you alone, while it’s just me and you,

Deeply and truly, as lovers should do,

But things might change slightly when two becomes three

And yet I’ll still love you, though it might be slightly

Different and strained as we sail through the seas

Of babies and nappies and purees and puke,

Of Peekaboo, nap-times and lego and books.

And then we realise three shall be four

I’ll still try to love you as much as before.

For while there’s less dinners and cinema dates,

Less romance and movies and less use of good plates,

Every so often, I’ll catch a brief glimpse

Of the Man that I married, and I’ll smile as you wink

I’ll love you in darkness, in fevers, in tears

And teething and pain and in each passing year.

I’ll love you in cuddles and memories and fun

In sneaky embraces and slaps on the bum

As we meet in the kitchen in the middle of night.

And when I watch you swinging our girls way up high.

When you’re loving our girls, I love you the most,

When you’re covered in poo, or you’ve not cut their toast

The right way, or you’ve left all the dishes and mess

To build them a fort or put Hulk in a dress.

When I see you exhausted, yet hugging them tight,

When you get up to cuddle or sooth in the night,

When you smile at them both, I can’t help but stare

At the husband that I never thought I could share,

But happily do with our two little girls,

Who weren’t in our mind as we took all those vows,

I know that you love me when I hear them call Daddy

And I’ll share all that love with our Princesses gladly.

So while we still love and while we’re still “us”,

With kids there isn’t so much time for the fuss

Or the dates or attention or time that we had,

But that doesn’t mean our love’s old or is bad.

It’s different and shared, but the spark is still there,

It’s just covered in pink stuff and snot in our hair,

And sometimes we’re knackered or covered in poo

But I still love you as much as when I said “I do”.

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Happy Blog-Birthday to Mammy!

Today is The S-Mum Blog’s birthday!  It is four years since I began my Blogging journey.

I really can’t get over that.  Four Years?  It seems as if I only started yesterday, and yet so much has happened…

I began with one baby girl and a very careful voice…Four years later and I’m still thinking about Merlot, but I have TWO little ladies and a whole lot less shits to give!

I know my voice.  It is loud and proud.  I have the most incredible MamBam who follow and engage with me every day.  And, I got a national award along the way too. 🙂

So Happy Blogday to me.

I shall be sipping bubbles this weekend to celebrate.  Today, there might be cake.

Actually, there will definitely be cake.

Here’s the first post I ever wrote on the Blog.

Hope you enjoy!

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I am Supermum?

To be someone’s Mum is a gift.  From early childhood, little girls happily play at being mum to younger siblings, or indeed to dolls, or pets.

Me, I’m the proud and doting mum of a 3 year old Drama Queen, and I am happy to admit, that I am STILL playing!  No handbook arrived with the little sweetheart.  I don’t have a degree in parenting.  I don’t have a bloody clue really!

I make it up every day.  I make decisions that I know make my own Mum cringe.  I’m sure that at times, my dear Granny shakes her perfectly blow-dried head in horror at my parenting techniques.

In fact, sometimes, I swear that I’m having an outer body experience when I deal with the child.

The Boss, as she has taken to calling her pretty self, stands in front of me; arms crossed, pout perfected, audience’s attention caught and voice ready and poised to hit those terrifying high notes…while I chuckle like a crazy lady as I watch myself try to remain in control;  Deep breaths, calm expression, remind myself that I am the adult here.

“Listen Darling.  We need to leave the toy back on the shelf for another wee child. “

I’m winning.

“Good girl.  Now, come on and we’ll go get a Babychino and then we’ll go home and watch Minions…”  (Yes, blackmail.  Get over it.  It works…sometimes.)

I have her… I just need to get her to take my hand and then we’ll skip happily out of the shop, leaving behind the assembled audience in a cloud of applause, appreciation and awe at how well that mammy handled that…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!  I NEEEEEEEEEEEED TEDDY!!!!” Cue autotap tears and stratospheric screaming… Oh! and don’t forget the kicks and snake-like movements as I try to lift her gracefully into my arms.

I manage to wrench her under one arm, pick up the bags and move out of the shop.  The audience shake heads and probably judge.  At this moment in time, I want my Mammy!

We reach the bench outside.  I put screaming child down and hunker down to have a positive parenting style talk with her. Her beautiful blue eyes are glistening with tears and her cheeks give the word “Rosy” a new level of meaning.

“Now Madam, listen to me.  Don’t EVER…”

Her attention has been distracted by the huge cluster of helium balloons behind me.

“PEPPAAAAAAA PIG!!!  Mammy wuk!  It’s Peppa Pig bawoooooon!  I NEEEEEEEEED IT”

Tears gone.  Smile on. Adorable wee face up close into mine.  “Pweeeeease Mammy. I wub it!”

“Next day we’re out, I’ll buy you a balloon okay?”

“Okay Mammy!”

And as we skip off towards the car, I look at the messy little head on her, and I know that for all my “playing”, I’m not doing a bad job really.

I am blessed.  I am exhausted.  I am happy.  I would kill for a glass of Merlot.  I am 100% in love with Mini-me. I’m trying my best.

I am Super Mum. 🙂

 

 

I am Stopping the Fat Milk Mum

A note arrived home with Mini-Me yesterday.

She gets milk in school every day. Has done, will always do.

And yet this morning, on the wee bill that comes every term, was a note telling us that she has informed her Teacher that she know longer requires milk.

Rightly, the note asked us to confirm our decision to pull out of the scheme.

Mini-Me drinks more milk than a baby calf.  She’d live on milk alone if truth be told.

This makes approximately NO sense to us.

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“Why have you told Múinteoir you don’t want milk anymore?”

“Mammy, do you KNOW what is IN that MILK they give us?”

“Erm… milk?” (and protein, calcium, goodness and magic methinks…)

“A FULL LAYER of FAT Mammy.  A FULL LAYER!”  She looks as disgusted as I do when someone puts red sauce on mashed potatoes.

“WHAT are you talking about?”

“There is FULL LAYERS of FAT in that milk and I am NOT drinking it anymore.”

“It’s not full layers Darling.  It’s Full FAT milk.  It’s the exact same as the milk in the glass that you are currently holding (couldn’t make it up I tell you) and it’s good for you.

“But there’s no fat in this milk” she says, puzzled and perplexed, looking into the glass and swishing it around.

Perhaps she expected to see a layer of glumpy, gloopy chickeny fat floating on the top.  When she thinks fat, she thinks grease in a chip pan, or on a frying pan.  I suddenly have an image in my head of the stuff that you see in the tubes on those hideous TV shows about Liposuction, being poured onto the milk.

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And then I get why she freaked out.  Because my clever little munchkin didn’t realise that there are different forms of fat.  She had herself convinced that the milkman who delivers the magic and cute little mini cartons to her school, was on a mission to poison her!

Sometimes, she cracks me up… and sometimes she reminds me that she is only so very ickle and that actually, she doesn’t fully understand what is being said to her. But thank God for notes from Múinteoir, because God only knows what kind of big fat conspiracy theory would have been swirling around in the playground!

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Mummy pages Plus – I’m an Advocate Mum

I have an exciting new club to share with you gals!

As you know, I don’t do collaborations or sponsored posts or the like, unless it’s a company that I genuinely use and like or I think that my followers are going to benefit from.

So when Mummy Pages Plus contacted me with news about their new platform for discounts, designed by Mums and aimed at Mums, with parents at the core of their plan, I liked the look of it immediately.

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I asked for more information and it looked good, so I signed up.  The annual fee is €60 and yet the first 100 to sign up will receive a pack of vouchers worth over €60. Mine came yesterday.  Here it is.

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Beautifully packaged with a little book too!

MummyPages+ is Ireland’s exclusive club for Mums, by Mums.

In their own words:

We’re on a mission to make family life even more rewarding by making great products and experiences that bit more accessible for you and your family.

We’ve hunted down discounts with lots of leading family and lifestyle brands and destinations around Ireland just for mums like you. 

By buying a MummyPages+ pack you’ll get one full year access to these exclusive rewards, not available anywhere else, and join our mission to help mums and their families thrive.

At present, we have well over €5,000 worth of rewards on the platform which, we hope – should be right up your street!

Many mums are reporting saving the annual cost of the card,  in the first few weeks of purchase!!

Get yours today, be part of a growing community of Mummy Pages Plus Mums around Ireland and start saving!!

I’m delighted to be an advocate for this new platform and I do think that if used right, Mums will find great businesses and services with exclusive deals for members.

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A screenshot of the app

They’ve already teamed up with some of the most loved household brands in Ireland and bigger brands are coming.

You simply sign up, download the app and sign in with your membership details and then you have access to all of the current deals and discounts.  You can clip the ones you are interested in for a specified time, and then use when you get a chance.

There’s also a dedicated facebook group which will keep you posted on the daily/weekly deals and help ensure that you are getting the most out of your membership.

I’m looking forward to using mine.  If you fancy having a look, check out their website.  You can sign up here.   Have a look and see what you think and if you think it’s something you’d benefit from, go for it!

(And if you are a parenting based business, or your audience is Mum, have a look.  I’m looking forward to seeing some Donegal businesses offering their discounts soon!)

Disclaimer: As a Mummy Pages Plus advocate, I received a discount on my own membership fee payment and will receive a % of sign ups through my #af link. 

But you know I wouldn’t recommend something that I didn’t think was worthwhile. 

I “So don’t Dooooo social Media”

“I don’t doooooo Facebook.” 

“I don’t doooooooooo Instagram.”

“I don’t doooooooo social media.” 

Do I have a problem with any of these statements?

Of course not.

There are no rules to say that we have to do any of the social media platforms we chose to sign up to, are there?  And I know many people who have signed off social media, for various reasons, and who simply and politely say “I’m not on Facebook anymore” if I make reference to it.

But see, when the “dooooo” is accompanied by a ‘duh’-sneer, then, I “doooo” have a problem.

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Because if you are involved in a conversation about something that was on social media, and you announce that you “don’t doooooooo social media”, with a snarled lip and a rolled eye, then what you are dooooooing, my Darling, is being mean.

Because your inference is that the other people in the group are silly or sad or even pathetic for still partaking in the odd scroll.

Now, I am the very Doll who warns often about the ability that Social Media has to suck us into its wormhole; of the powerful effect that it can have on our mood and on our lives.  I give talks on reading Instagram and recognising the falsity of it.

I’m pretty adept at knowing myself if and when I need to ease up on my own scrolling. 

And yet, I enjoy the interaction I get online.  I read interesting articles.  I see people I like doing well in things.  I’ve met lovely people (and a few loopdies too!) and I enjoy when content is clever.

I can keep up with news and current affairs and I enjoy the conversations that I have; both ONLINE and ABOUT what is online.

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It’s becoming quite frequent to hear people say that they’ve deleted their FB app from their phone, or that they’ve logged off Instagram, but many of those who say that they “don’t DOOOOOOO” social media still have their accounts and still have a snoop every so often.  Nothing wrong with that is there?  No.

And indeed there is nothing wrong with deciding that you are no longer going to share stuff on your social media profiles.  If I’m honest, I rarely use my own private account.  I write and post on my Blog’s social media.  But as for my own personal accounts, they’re pretty quiet.

But do I ever snub or scoff with a “I don’t doooooooooo facebook” or “I have better things to be doing than scrolling thank you,” or “That social media is such a waste of time”? 

No.

Because I’m not a judgy pants. I don’t feel the need to demean your decision.  And I don’t think I’m better than you because I DOOOO Doooo social media.

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Imagine if I did it next time I’m in a restaurant.

Waitress –  “Did you see the dish with the tomato?”

 Me –  “Eh No, I don’t DOOOO tomato?”, raise my eyebrow as if the waitress is the most stupid cretun I’ve even encountered and then dismiss the rest of the conversation as irrelevant, given that it’s based on tomato, (which I don’t dooooo…)  How would that go down?

Not well.    Because whether I do or don’t do tomato is really not that big a deal, is it?

I’d imagine she’d think me a rude cow actually.

She might even post about it on Facebook…

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I wonder how it would work if those of us who do still partake in the scrolling and socialmedia-ing were to say things like

“Eh NO, I don’t doooooo Netflix binges” or

“I don’t dooooooooo gardening. How sad!”  or

“I don’t dooooooooo watching TV”.

I wonder how the people who can talk for hours about the TV show they love to watch, or the podcasts they like to listen to, or indeed the books they read, or the crosswords they like to do, would feel, if I looked at them as if they were deluded, and sympathetically announced that “I don’t understand how they could be bothered” or that “I have better things to be doing than colouring in”?

And sure, I probably wouldn’t get an answer would I?

Because I’m posting this on social media and so they’re  all too busy off “NOT DOOOOOOOING social media” to see it, aren’t they?

Or are they?

We’ll see!

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Speaking of Social Media, are you following me over on my platforms?  I’m on Facebook and Instagram and sometimes, on Twitter.