I am Smiling at my Award Mum

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind for Mammy this week.  Blog

Friday was amazing and I am over the moon that my wee blog won the Boots Maternity & Infant Best Parenting Blog, thanks to my incredabubble readers.

I  was GOBSMACKED considering the level of legendaryness of my fellow finalists and honestly didn”t see it coming.

But it did and I am soooooooooo bloodywell PROUD of myself.  (This is apparently not encouraged in modern society, but I say feck to that.  I work hard and I’m genuinely chuffed that I won, so why pretend otherwise?)

43878853_1529215960512063_6371426130682970112_o

With my fellow finalists…the nicest bunch of Bloggers ever x

The event itself was held in the Royal Marine Hotel in Dun Laoghaire and were hosted by the very lovely Maura Derane and Brian Dowling.

(Did Mammy get completely starstuck and gush into Brian’s poor ear how much I luuuuuurve his Instagranny? Erm…maybe, but the less said about that particular moment of gobshitery, the better.)

I was surrounded by the cream of the crop of Irish Parenting Bloggers.  The genuine support and well wishes at that table was electrical.  Congratulations too to the gorgeous Popcorn for Lunch who won the Silver award, and to One Yummy Mummy who took the Bronze.

The meal was fab, the ceremony thoroughly enjoyable and the company was amazing. Some of the stories and awards were incredibly emotional and all were so well deserved.  Special shout out to my pal Sharon’s beautiful daughter Sophie, who won Sibling of the Year.  What a beautiful little Lady she is. Check out Sharon’s blog on Our Wheely Big Journey.

It really was a wonderful day and taking home the title was the icing and cherry and sprinkles and marshmallows on the cake.

The celebrations are on hold however, as with all Mammies, the inevitable happens when you think you’ve got your shit together; the day was topped and tailed by a sick baba and a sick Him. (genuinely unwell…not manflu. Poor Him.)

My floating was brief and I have been popped straight out of my bubble and back to earth with a bang.  But like Cinderella, I had my few minutes. And they were wonderful.

And so the celebrations are confined to me smiling maniacally to myself as I pass my award in the kitchen.  But c’est la vie!

I blog for a few reasons; I like to write. I love to make people laugh. I like to make people think.  I love to make the Mums (and Dads) who read my posts feel normal, like they are not alone in the madness of the business of child rearing.

But mostly, I like to smash the Instamum BS that we’re all #livingourbestlives #makingmemories and #alwayssmiling ,that social media sells us.

It’s not all perfect.

We’re not all perfect.

There is no such thing…

As long as your kids are loved and fed and cared for, you’re doing just fine Mum.

It can’t be perfect all the time, neither can you. But remember that usually, the flaws you see in yourself, are only seen by you.

To your kids, YOU are their Perfect Mum.

And I am the perfect Mum for MY kids…even if you don’t agree with how I do things.

Thank you again for all of your support Mammies. Keep up with my S-Mumblings on Instagranny, Bookface and of course, here, on my (award winning) blog!  (Yeah yeah I know… but feck it, I’m proud!)

fb cover

I am Still Laughing at these Leggings Mum

Two words.
NEVER AGAIN!

“Oooooooooh Lookit!” thinks Mammy in local chainstore for disposable clothing which shall remain nameless.

“Look at the spacey, funky, pinkly-purply gym bottoms that are fablis and reduced! Oh my! Down to €5? What a bargain. Oh indeed Mammy shall have to have these. Mammy is indeed still uber-cool and chic and young enough to carry these off. Mammy SHALL be fablis and fearless in Jim in these bad boys. What a bargain!”

Silly Mammy.
Silly Silly Mammy.

Off Mammy trots to Jim, rather excited about the wearing of the rocket-fuel bottoms. Mammy is so excited in fact, that it never crosses her silly mind to try them on at home first.

“Should you not try these on first Mammy?” says Mammy’s inside voice.
“Pahah! DESIST, you annoying wench! I know what size my arse is and these leggins shall look spectacular on it” answers poor, deluded Mammy.

When Mammy gets to Jim, she pulls on the bottoms. They go up to her knees before the bottom of the legs on the leggings decide that they shall not move. In fact, they will not budge above Mammy’s ankles. And any hope Mammy has of getting the material to cover her calves, is left wittering on the changing room floor, beside Mammy’s dignity and confidence.

When Mammy does get the top part of the bottoms to go over her arse, she is suddenly aware that while yes, her legs and nether regions may in fact be covered, she still has two problems.
1. The bottoms are so beautifully stuck to her calves, that the crotch part of them is NEVER going to make the journey to HER crotch.
2. When Mammy moves, the fablis pinky purply space pattern DISAPPEARS, being replaced by wonderful see-through white!

FAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! thinks Mammy as she continues to bounce the bottoms up, trying and failing to get the crotches to align.

“FAAAAAAAACK!” shouts Mammy aloud as it dawns on her that this is as high as they will go. Thankfully, there is a drawstring on the top of the bottoms, (which were OBVIOUSLY designed for a giraffe with no ankles or calves and the leg circumference of a fricken table leg), and so Mammy ties it tight around her belly in the hope that at least the trousers will NOT fall off.

giraffe-171318_960_720

And so off Mammy toddles into Jim, where OF COURSE, Mr Fucking Motivator has a lovely circuit of Squats, lunges and Bear Crawls lined up for us. YES. I said BEAR CRAWLS… where Mammy and her Jimbuddies have to channel their inner Bear Cub and crawl like fecking MOWGLI through Jim, arses in the air!

“Ooooooooh, cool leggings Mrs R” coos one of the lovely proper-legging-wearing wenches.
“Oooooooooh nooooooooo!” answers Me. “I apologise in advance for the certain showing of my Hoohaa at some point during the next hour Ladies” announces Mammy. (Better to pre-empt the disaster eh? At least then, I can look like I MEANT for my table-leg/giraffe leggings to split along the pathetic seam on my unfortunate arse and offer heart failure to my training buddy half way through my squat jump.)

“3,2,1… Go!

I swear to God Ladybelles, I honestly thought that with every lunge I would hear the rip. When we were stretching, I could HEAR the material screaming. I could see the colour disappearing from every part of my legs that were moving. I could only IMAGINE what see-through catastrophe was happening on my arse. My calves were crying by the end of the session as the fecking material was trying so hard to merge into my skin that I truly feared that I might live the rest of my life with the awful, suddenly not so cool pattern, embedded onto my corned-beef skin.

Surprisingly, the bastarding Leggings DID survive the wrath of Jim.
Not so surprisingly, they did NOT survive Mammy REMOVING them from her poor suffocated legs. In fact, they had to be scissored off when she got home. Yes. I had to cut them off my calves.

scissors-1297454__340

Yes. I had to cut them off.

Lesson?

When you see leggings on sale seeming too good to be true, walk on by Mammy. They are indeed too good to be true.
And the next time I’m feeling guilty for spending money on proper gym bottoms, I shall remember that I am doing so for the good of my fellow Jimgoers, my nerves and my dignity.
And leave the funky, spacey, pinky purply leggings for the giraffes.

Traumatised I tell you.

26941693_10159710112160167_545746336_o

Shared on
My Random Musings

I am Stop the Nonsense, Wear the Dress Mum.

Loves me some Yellow!

Mammy is pretty shocked at the response my instastories got yesterday.

I wore this dress to a wedding 5 weeks ago and I happily wore it again yesterday.👇

Different shoes and bag.
Different day.
Same feeling of Queendom.👑

When did it become unacceptable to wear the same thing twice? I got so many messages yesterday saying “yay!” and “Go you” and even “thank you”?

I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but apparently the pressure is real for many real women.

Well here’s my opinion on that… If I buy a dress or OUTFIT, and if I like that dress, and if I want to wear it to more than one event or function…I WILL.

Just because you’ve been seen in it or posted Pics on Instagranny or Bookface, should NOT mean you can never wear it again.

I’ll be wearing THIS particular bad-boy again. Because it’s mine and because I like it.

We need to get past this “I can’t wear that again” culture. (How the hell people can afford a constant turnover of wardrobe is beyond me.🙄)

Wear the feckin dress.
Apologise to no one.
Get your money’s worth and if it makes you feel fablis, wear it doing the ironing on a Wednesday night if you want to.

Remember.

What other people think of you is NONE of your business.

Turn your back on that negativity and Shake your fine ass at it!

#wearitagain
#beyourowntrend

I am Stop Measuring Your Time on Someone Else’s Clock Mum

It’s August; which if you believe the Interweb and the Instafluencers, means it’s practically January already.

So apparently it’s time for Happy New Year already?

Eh. No.

augustny

I did laugh at this. It’s funny coz it’s true…sort of.

Ok, I will agree that once the 1st of August arrives, I get a bellyflip of panic.  It means the long (and for once glorious!) summer is almost over.   It means it’s high time I was sorting Mini-Me for Back to School.  It means that I now only have 3 weeks to get through the mile long to-do in the summer list I wrote on the first day of her holidays.  It means everyone trying to cram all the things on the Summer lists into 3 weekends.

But it also means return to routine, which if your house is anything like mine, is something that I can not deny missing.

And then begins September; a month of sunshine and still long evenings where the dust settles on the chaos of the summer months and where Fridays take on a whole new meaning.

Then comes October, with the crisp coolness and warm colours and the excitement and build up to Halloween.

And then we have November, the month which will last 498 days and drive us all to stews and hot whiskeys and panics about how it’s nearly time for Santa Season and we haven’t even “started yet”…

And then it’s December and there’s a whole month of glitter and Christmas and Grinches and never-ending darkness and fires and heating blasting and cold and ice…

And we have ALL of that to do before we even think about next year.

So while YES, once August arrives, the end of the year does suddenly seem right around the corner, in reality, we still have 5 whole months until then.  5 whole months of birthdays and new beginnings and fighting and eating and laughing and growing and sniffling and working and parenting and everything else that our lives entail.

So take it easy on allowing memes and such online images to make you feel like you’re losing time.  You’re not.

You didn’t make it to every waterfall or family day out you’d planned.  Your kids didn’t get to go on nature walks every day.  You didn’t get that catch up with your cousin that you’ve been promising each other all year.  You didn’t actually get that night out with your besties that you’ve been putting off until summer since January.  You didn’t get your children to the top of a mountain. You didn’t make it to the beach and the fancy picnic basket remains unused since last year…

So what?

Who says these things have to be done in summer?  What’s wrong with getting that family trip in September if it suits your work better?  Why can’t you go to Glenveagh or to the beach in October? Who says that all of these things have to be done within school holidays?

So while these images and memes are quirky and cute and we find ourselves laughing or nodding in inst-agreement, they’re just another example of how we’re letting strangers online affect our own perceptions of our own lives.  Instead of thinking “sure the year’s nearly over”, ask yourself what you can still do and fit in and enjoy in the 5 months that are left…until next year, where guess what? We start all over again!

Scrap the summer bucket list and make up a new one for yourself and your family that doesn’t have a deadline.

Because yes, summer is limited, but thankfully, there are 3 other seasons and no one is measuring you, except yourself.

 

Are you following The S-Mum Blog on Social Media?  Find her Facebook here and read her blog here.

 

 

Mammy needs your help Lovelies!

Ok Ladybelles.

It’s that time of year again when I ask you all to help me out.

The S-Mum Blog is in the running for “Maternity and Infant’s Best Parenting Blog Award” again this year.

Last year I made it (thanks to you lot) to the TOP TEN and I got to meet some of the loveliest people ever. 😍

With last year’s finalists in Dublin

 

And so I ask that if you like my blog and my posts and the general nonsense that I spout; if I make you laugh, or sob a little, or just feel a bit normal; please please please take two seconds to hit the link and throw me a wee vote.

You can VOTE HERE. (No registration or nonsense required!)

If you don’t like it, then I wonder why you’ve read this far, and I’ll still ask you to vote. Sure why not? 😋

The competition is FIERCE this year, but I know that my lovely readers will help me out. 😍

It’d be great to get a wee Donegal Mammy to the final again! You’re an incredible bunch and I do appreciate every like and heart and comment, so I truly would love you all even more if you could give me a click. 😋

You can do it here… http://bit.ly/VoteforMammy

And if you might be happy to share this for me, I’ll love you forever.

Thanks gals,
Mammy x