Author Archives: Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

I am Stupid Idea Mum

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We’ll it’s a big fat #fml this evening Dollies…😑

You’d think Mammy would have learned years ago, wouldn’t you?

Whatever Twathead notion took me this evening, I decided to venture into Derry AFTER afterschool, after the first full week, after Princess Demonica had not taken a nap at creche…
Wtf is wrong with me?

“Ooooooh let us spend the evening Pottering around the delightfully bright and sensory stimulating shopping centre, being Picture perfect Mummy and Cherubins, giggling and Smiling and skipping through rails of clothes so Mummy can teach you the joys of shopping and girly time and #makingfuckingmemories!” sang Twathead Mammy as she parked the car.

‘I think not Wench’ thought Demonica, deciding there and then that Mammy would be punished for abandoning her in the Wonderful, colourful, loving and nurturing childcare facility while she dares to go to work-work to do her other job.

And so, within 40 minutes, she had thrown pitch perfect Screaming fits outside no less than FOUR shops, lay down on TWO floors, sat happily while eating the desperation bribe chocolate Twathead bought, before Screaming so Loudly in Marks-of-the-spensive that three old women tutted in sympathy, (for her or me? Fuck knows) and one old man pretended to scratch his ear…but Mammy suspects he was turning down his hearing aid.

Then.
To top it all off, she hit a man on the arse.

Yes.

In the queue at the checkout, she lifted her hand, hit the man in front of us a (gentle but still) slap on the jeaned bottom and then announced “Him’s got da same jeams as YOU Mammy!” before continuing to drink the ÂŁ87 bottle of fecking water that she had opened before I saw her lifting it.

THANKFULLY, Mr Levi was a very lovely Grandad type who laughed it off.

But dear SWEET Jesus and the Rabid Donkey, had the ground opened, I’d have leapt into it, jeans first.

So yes.

Home we came. Daddy’s car was in the street.

“Yay!! Daddy’s HOME!” squealed the Minions.

“Yay! Daddy’s HOME!” thought the Mammy… before depositing them in the house, shouting “TAG, YOURE IT” and driving straight back out the gate to MY Mammy’s house for a cuppa.😂🤣

Did I get anything in Derry?
Yup.
A sore head, 2 chocolate bars and…absolutely mortified. 🙄

Tis wine o’ the clock Bitcheepoos.

How was YOUR day?

I am So you think you won’t Mum?

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

10 things I thought before I had kids:
1. I shall never shout at my child:  Oh you will you know.  Actually, it’s more a case of shouting at yourself really, because if you are having to shout at all, chances are that you’ve reached that wonderful stage where the little minions have decided to ignore every single fricken word you say, until you are screaming it at the top of your lungs like a mad woman.  And do you know what else? Even THEN, they’ll probably not listen to you.

annoyed
2. I shall love my child unconditionally always.  Yes,  indeed.  But that doesn’t mean that you have to LIKE them unconditionally or always.
3. I will never have to deal with a tantrum in a shop:  Oh yes you will.  The 30 seconds of your Minion’s meltdown will feel like an HOUR and even though no one is looking at you, you will feel like the entire shop has stopped specifically to watch your little Hell Demon throw his strop.  You will burn a new shade of crimson that you never even considered possible, and you will discover dexterity and wrestling skills that you didn’t know you possessed as you wrangle the wriggler out the door.  And yes, you will growl through gritted teeth and swear that you’ll NEVER leave the house again.
4. I will only feed them healthy, nutritious, organic home-cooked meals:  For the most part, we all manage this one, most of the time…mostly.  But trust me, Freezer Fridays are a thing and Leftovers are a blessing in disguise. I write my weekly meal planner on the fridge most Sundays.  At the beginning of the week, it makes me feel like I’m the bestest Mammy ever.  By Friday, it reminds me of just how hilarious I can be sometimes.😂 But hey!  They get fed don’t they?         Most days.
5. I will never be manipulated by a toddler: Yes, yes you will.  And even when you are using the bribery and blackmail (that you swore you’d never resort to), you’re still being manipulated by the minion.  And this is not reserved for toddlers.  Signs of parental manipulation can appear as early as Day 3 of your baby’s life, when they learn that if they make a certain noise, you’ll react.  And it never ends.  Our kids manipulate us forever… My Daddy loves me most you know. 😉😉

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6. I will bath them every night:  Ok, some parents DO manage this one.  If you are a Daily bathermum, I salute you and am in awe.  I NEVER got into this habit.  There are 3 reasons that mine get bathed.

A) It’s the weekend

B) They’re so rotten that I have no choice but to wash them if I want to keep up the facade that I have my shit together.

C) In the event of a Poonami or a Pukenado.
7. I will never swear in front of my children:  Yeah, good luck with that one. 😂 Try not to swear AT your children.  That should be reserved for special occasions, but swear in front of them, you shall. And do you know when you’ll realise it?  When they repeat what you’ve said at full volume in front of the WRONG person, you know, like the local priest or the PHN, or the School Principal, or…a Sanctimammy.  And sometimes, as mortified as you are, you’ll be slightly proud that they have used the expletive in the correct context.
8.No other child is as special as mine:  This one is true.  My children are the most special in the world…to me. 💖💖

 

9.Being a parent can’t be that hard. Everyone does it:  hahahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahah.  Yes, everyone does it. And most of those everyones at SOME point wonder WHY they did!
10. I will never turn into THAT Mammy:  Oh my Darling.  Yes.  Yes you  will.  Every one of us has an inbuilt ability to be THAT Mammy.  You’ll surprise yourself.
I’m sure you could add your own Ladybelles xxx

 

 

 

I am Some FriYay Reminders Mum

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Rejoice! Rejoice!

It is Friyay…the FIRST Friyay after a FULL week of school and work and routine. And we have all survived. (albeit just about, but survive we have.)

We may be frazzled and fooked Mammies, but still we must find the energy to REJOICE in the Fact that we have made it to the most wonderful evening of the week.

This week, after a long and sunniful summer,I am back to being a Full-time Mammy with a Full-time Job-job. What have I learned? Nothing. But I have remembered many things; Things that I had suffocated and locked in a tattered old box at the back of the memory part of my subconscious, but which now bounce back to the forefront of my ridiculously tired little mind.

girldog

Tired Children:

  1. Tired children are cranky.  
  2. Tired children like to find a reason, ANY reason, to cry.
  3. Tired children do not KNOW that they are tired.  
  4. Tired children refuse to admit that they are tired.
  5. Tired children will bite one another.
  6. Tired children do not like to go to their beds, regardless of how tired they are.
  7. Tired children like to wake up at 2am and play with their toys, with the light on, noisily enough to waken everyone so that they have someone to tell that they are NOT tired.
  8. Tired children do NOT like to get dressed in the morning.
  9. Tired children do NOT like it when you bounce into their bedrooms at 7am singing “Good Morning, Good Moooooooorning!,  opening curtains and declaring that it is time for school. (Especially the not tired children who have been up half the night playing with their fecking toys.)
  10. Tired children like to say “No” and “No” and sometimes, “Noooooo!” to absolutely EVERYTHING that Tired Mammy asks or suggests.

annoyed

And along with tired children, comes the Tired Mammy.  But as well as being a tired Mammy, Mammy ALSO has to be SUPER-ORGANISED Mammy.

  1.  Mammy needs to keep on top of the fridge situation.  
  2. Mammy needs to pack lunchboxes and school bags and afterschool bags.
  3. Mammy needs to remember the fecking HORROR that is HOMEWORK.  
  4. Mammy needs to think about dinners sooner than when she opens the fridge at 6pm.  
  5. Mammy needs to set her alarm to make sure she gets out of bed 30 minutes before everyone else if Mammy wants to pee, shower and have a coffee all by herself.
  6.  Mammy needs to be an intelligent and functioning adult.  
  7. Mammy needs to rid her brain of references to Peppa Pig and Andy and Bing because they are not relevant to Macbeth and teenagers do NOT respond well to them.
  8. Mammy needs to try to keep the washing basket from puking and Mammy needs to arrange everyone’s clothes before bedtime.
  9. Mammy needs to remain relatively Wifely and interesting enough to hold a brief conversation with Tired Daddy when he comes home from Jim.
  10. And Mammy needs to get used to wearing stupid heels and muckup every single day.  (I’ll last until the end of September…)
  11. Mammy needs to cram all of the Mammying and playing and cuddling and scolding and fun into 3 hours in the evening, while being JUST as tired as her beloved Tired Children who are determined to PUNISH her tired ass for abandoning them in school and creche. (Even though they both LOVE where they go and actually CRY when they are collected.)
  12. Mammy struggles with balancing the Mammy guilt when she’s away from them, and the urge to sell them on ETSY when she’s spent an hour being screamed at and cried at by her Tired Minions.
  13. Mammy can’t win.

In conclusion.  Mammy does indeed need to rejoice that she has made it to Friday night, has the tired minions in bed, her feet up and the grapes poured.  And now Mammy needs all of her Lovely Supermums to say Hello and remind her of what I have been missing while abandoning you all this week while trying to keep 286 plates spinning without falling off her heels and onto her poor,  muck-uped, Mammy-guilty face.

Because as Tired as the two Dollies are, and despite the fact that I had to WAKE them every morning this week, I guarantee that the little farts shall be up at 6.30am tomorrow…

Why?

Because it’s Saturday of course.  

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Cheers Bitcheepoos. xxx

Say Hello to Fricken Freaky Fridays!

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by
Oh joy, oh rapture!
 
It is Friday; the Friday where the significance of Fridays becomes significantly more significant to those of us who have been #soblessed to have the summer off with our minions. And whether it has been a summer of #pottering and #makingmemories and all of that other instaperfect frankittywank that some love to spout over news feeds, or indeed a summer of #fml and #aretheschoolsopenagain, it is now all but over.
 
And so the significance of routine must be acknowledged and what better way to begin, that to return to Freezerful-Friday dinners and Fricken-shut-up-and-pours.
 
My cleaning and organising was disrupted on too many occasions by demands for jigsaws and poos and general “GivemeattentionNOWs” and so while the washing is done, there was no bleaching and even less cleaning done.
My favourite interruption however, was this one. I had foolishly said no to an icepop before her healthy and nutritious dinner of svelty flattened organical sourdoughed bread, adorned with sunkissed blushing tomatoes, elderflower cheese with emmenthol (great for flus) and thinly sliced prosciutto, gilded with the glitter of a fairy’s dandruff… yes. Pizza.
 
I returned the box of rockets to the freezer and inthe 0.43 seconds I had my back turned, Princess Demonica had turned all 6th Sense on me and opened all the doors in protest.
tantrum
Funny, when I was expecting her, I loved the name Damien for a boy… May have been appropriate enough.
 
The Hellfiend was so speedy in her task that I’m not beyond being convinced that she sprouted 12 other arms or had the help of a few spirits, just to ensure three things:
1. To remind Mammy, with dramatic effect, what new levels of tantrum she is capable of.
2. To convince Mammy to call upon her own spirits tonight. It is a Friday for gin. Grapes shall not cut it.
3. To confirm Mammy’s suspicions that it is probably high time that my dysfunctional little fambam did in fact get back into routine.
 
They do say we learn from our children, don’t they?
 
So Yay to Fricken Fridays and cheers to those of you whose little demons have tried every last significant ounce of your patience today.
Cheers Mammies.
Remember that if you like my Smumblings, you still have an hour or two to vote for me to reach the final of Maternity & Infant Awards for Best Parenting Blogger.