I am ‘So here’s the thing’ Mum…

“You will , you know!”

Everyone is the perfect parent…until they have children.”

Who said this first? I have no idea.

Who says it now? Me. Every single day!

I am the proud and enthusiastic Mama bear of a 5-year-old Drama Queen and a 21 month old Dictator. I spend my days winging it through EVERYTHING… breakfast, school runs, work, homework, dinner, bedtime, marriage.

Some days, I feel like I NEARLY have my shit together. Most days, I want to stomp my foot, throw and tantrum and call for my own Mammy! To many, I seem like I hold things together.

Those closest to me, know I’m a fraud.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

I don’t deal with everything in a calm and mature fashion.

I don’t adore my children every single second of every single day.

I don’t always have the schedule sorted.

I don’t always remember everything I’m supposed to.

I don’t always know what’s wrong with the baby, just by her cry.

I don’t always have a sparkly clean house. (Actually, I don’t EVER. Who does?)

I don’t always remember to wash the uniforms.

I don’t always want to get my No Diggity on in the bedroom.

I don’t always feed them homemade meals.

I don’t always give the right answer.

I don’t always say the right thing.

I don’t switch off my brain, even when it’s His turn to get up with them.

I can’t.

Because I “Mammy” 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Sometimes, I yell.

Sometimes, I bribe.

Sometimes the fridge is empty.

Sometimes, I’m so exhausted that I let them eat breakfast cereal for dinner.

Sometimes, I pretend I don’t hear the monitor and carefully kick Daddy so he’ll have to get up instead.

Sometimes, I let them watch TV…a lot.

Sometimes, I swear.

Sometimes, I wish it were bedtime at 3pm.

Sometimes, I cry so hard that my Husband doesn’t know what to say.

Sometimes, I like being at work because I get to finish a coffee in peace…and I don’t feel guilty. Sometimes, I get a babysitter and go out for dinner.

Sometimes, I hand the baby to Himself as he comes through the door and go for a run, or a pee. Sometimes, I feel like I’m so utterly useless that someone, somewhere will certainly report me to an authority of some kind.

But ALWAYS, I love. I am NOT a Stepford Mammy. I will never get it ALL right. No one can, because a perfect Mammy doesn’t exist, and as long as I love my girls fiercely, I’m already doing it right.

The moment that a Mammy realises that there is no such thing as “The right way” or “the proper way” of parenting, is light bulb moment. When you recognise that YOUR choices for your family are NO ONE’s business, a giant weight will be lifted off your tired shoulders.

You don’t have to justify your parenting. You don’t have to explain why you breastfeed, or don’t; why you chose this school instead of that one; why you put the baby in their own room at 3 months, or why they still sleep in your room 2 years on.

You don’t have to justify your parenting to ANYONE.

The ONLY people who matter in your home, are YOUR FAMILY. And nothing or nobody outside of that matters. If you are expecting your first Baby and reading this, with your jaw on the floor, thinking “I will NEVER do those things!”, You will you know!?

You will bribe.

You will eat leftovers.

You will survive on 2 hours of broken sleep.

You will use Babywipes for EVERYTHING.

You will hate your partner for sleeping. (Sometimes, you will hate them for breathing! 🙂 )

You will enjoy watching kids’ TV.

You will have a favourite CBeebies presenter.

You will spend your money on the best you can afford for your kids, while wearing a 15-year-old t-shirt yourself.

You will be so excited at the offer of a babysitter, that you cry. Oh, and you will cry; tears of frustration, tears of worry, tears of laughter and tears of pure, unconditional LOVE.

Because being a Mammy is sometimes crap, but it is ALWAYS wonderful.

And if you are wondering if you’ll be a good Mum?

You will, you know. x

I am Some Real Mums on the Tellybox Please Mum

Real Mammies lose it sometimes.
Real Mammies do NOT behave like the Mammies on the TellyBox…
Fact. 😶
Real Mammies, while we do indeed have our Mary of the Poppins moments, do not spend our days answering our minions in edumacated and enthusiastic, sing songy voices.  😅
So why do the TV shows aimed at our minions portray only Mammies who would give the authors of the Positive Parenting books the same satisfaction that one gets from polishing off a box of maltesers all by oneself?
Sickeningly sweet, always smiling, perky and positive and always saying the right thing, these Mammies dress head to toe in Marks of the Spensive, have Stepford Mammyesque hair doooos, and would put the most prim and perky primary school teacher to shame, with their well laid out everything and their general competency in all things Mammy.
But riddle me this Ladybelles?
If these shows, (which MUST be applauded for their educational and developmental content and tones), can  portray the world of a wobbler or a toddler or a minion so well, WHY do they lie to them about what parents should be?
“It’s OK (insert character name here). It’s normal to feel sad/confused/excited.”  the furry, talking animals tell their owners on our screens, before talking them through their emotions and making the world a wonderful place again.
But WHERE is the Mammy, or Daddy, who is tired? Where is the Mammy who explains firmly that NO, you can’t hit your sister or NO, It’s NOT OK to throw toys?  Where is the teenage sister who is throwing “shade” at the Mum?  Where is the Mum wiping yesterday’s yoghurt off the school uniform with a Babywipe as the child goes out the door? Where is the 4 year old crying that they can’t find the shoes that are RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM? 😡😡
Just once, I would LOVE to see Topsy and Tim’s Mum lose her shit. I’d love to see her looking like crap, with bags under her eyes and toast stuck to her arse.  Just once, I would love to see one of the delightful, BFF twins throwing a complete strop because their beautiful Mammy puts beans too close to the fishfingers.
The Kiddy Channels should do a post watershed episode of Bing where “What would Flopsy do?” is answered by Flopsy “Flopsy will drink 3 glasses of wine when you go to bed Bing…you little prick,” and where we get to SEE Topsy and TIm’s Dad eating the remains of their uneaten dinners before he scrapes them in the bin, while Mammy cries at the table because she’s failing at EVERYTHING and huffing that “NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO MEEEEEEEE!” 😥😥
THEN, I MIGHT take them seriously, because at least I would possibly get some understanding about MY emotions and MY struggles and I might feel a bit more NORMAL!

 

Now, where is the remote?  I really should turn the channel over from the “Has gone to bed. We’ll be back in the morning screen!” 😂😂

How was your day?

I am Saddle and Sore Bum Mum 😅

Mammy’s bottom is sore.
Today, I sat upon the hard saddle of a bicycle.  The only hard saddle that Mammy is used to sitting on, is Jim’s …  you know the stationary, non-moving, non-dangerous, spinning bicycle that is BOLTED TO THE GROUND and which can NOT MOVE?

“Let’s hire the bikes!” suggested The Him when we arrived in Glenveagh.
“Oh fecking joy” thinks Mammy, but NEVER one to let The Him think her unfit or uncool or old and decrepit, and seeing the ACTUAL joy on Mini-Me’s face at the prospect of saving her little legs from the 4k walk, Mammy answered “What a glorious idea My Him. But as YOU are the manliest man in Manville, YOU have my permission to be manly and to strut your masculine Mannity by pulling the trailer containing your two cherubs.”

S-Mum’s FIRST hurdle was THE HELMET. You see my Lovelies, I do indeed have a superbly large and quite weirdly shaped cranium.  I like to think it’s all the brains, but in reality, it is a combination of genetic and bad luck.  (The last time I required a helmet was on a teambuilding horseriding day with my colleagues, when the Gobshite/man shouted to HIS colleague “Gone out the back and bring in the special hat”, before fitting me with a glorified bucket and sending me off on the spawn of Satan…a horse named Mary… shudder.)
But to my amazement, the helmet DOES FIT and so I am good to go.
S-Mum does not delight in the prospect of cycling a real live bicycle for the first time in AT LEAST 20 years, but then S-Mum sees that The Him’s bum looks quite wonderful on his manly bike and so decides to forgoe her trepidation and take one for the team.
“You go in front Darling” says The Him.
“Oh no My Him. I’d much prefer to follow you so I can see my precious minions. Be the man. I shall be a good wifey and follow you” answers I, patting myself on the back for being so cunning and clever. 😈

So off we went.  I sat on the saddle, nodded at the instructions the buck was giving me about gears or something, and wondered HOW the hell I would get out of the CARPARK, nevermind the whole way down to the castle, and back.
But do you know what?

Remember I did.

It really was “like riding a bike.” 😂😂😂
Yes, I was a bit wobbly, and yes I almost died 13 times before I got the hang of the brakes etc, but having spent my whole childhood on bikes with my sister and brother, it came back to me quickly.
I did however discover something interesting.
I have huge difficulty turning right!

Left? No bother.

Right?  Not so much. I felt like I was going to tip over.
Why? I have NO FECKING IDEA! Maybe it’s a sign that the left side of my brain has gone to mussh more than the right?
Anyway, we went, we saw, we cycled.
It was great fun.

The girls loved it, “woohoooooing” their way behind their Daddy.
After my initial wobbles, and as a result of my utter stubbornness, I actually enjoyed it…

And in fairness, the view was pretty impressive too. 😈😈😉😉
How was your Sunday Funday?

Have you found me on Bookface yet?

https://www.facebook.com/the.s.mum

I am Sunshine and Suncream Mum

Oh it is sunshiny and fablis. 😎😎
Oh how wonderful.😎
Let us drive home with Stepford Mammy notions of pottering in the garden, topping up our Vitamin D, naming flowers and passing on our memories of nature walks and such. Let us have a light, sunnyful,  salady dinner and let the children run free while we watch and adore them from the poofy lounger. And then, let them be so exhausted from their frolicking and pottering, that they snuggle down for a long sleep, full of the joys of summer and sunkissed and freckled, smelling of the great outdoors…
Good Mammy.
Now let us be realistic. 😅
Yes, we may drive home full of these notions, but notions they are, and only notions.
In reality, let’s collect the minions, tired and cranky from the heat at play/school, let us put them in a car of approximately 31° even with the windows down, for them to get MORE cranky and sweaty on the way home. Let us have a complete fecking meltdown when you offer icecream but end up with ice-POPS because the cone machine has had fecking heart attack at its sudden overuse. Let us try to get the homework done, because Clever Mammy knows that whatever chance we have of getting it done NOW, there is precisely feck all chance of it being done once the pottering commences.
Let us wrestle more suncream onto the two wrigglers, before having a quiet and peaceful 😂😂standoff with the Mini-Me about putting ON her hat,  while the Princess insists on removing HER hat to EAT IT at 3 minute intervals.
 Let is not even think about sitting one’s Stepford Mummy posterier on a lounger, poofy or not, because “Pottering” with a wobbler ACTUALLY means following the little turdler, 3 steps behind, lifting her away from the dog’s bowl and racing her to the gate 16 times in 6 minutes, wondering how her fat little legs are so fast?  😥
Then, let us realise that unless you have a fecking COOK residing in your home, having a light summery etc dinner, STILL requires Mammy to go inside to COOK IT. And going for pizza would require gettinto the car again… nope! 😭
And so begins the END of the “pottering”, and the beginning of ARMAGETTIN…which is where you forcibly remove the suncream clad, slippery, sun stricken, cranky, exhausted and very fecking happy wobbler from the sunshine, by grabbing her in your ARMS and (trying to) GET IN!  

Armagettin. 😅😅
Let us then rejoice in the fact that Iggle Piggle is working his blue bottomed magic in the corner and let us spend the next hour feeding the kids who are two fecking HOT to eat anyway and looking longingly at the sunshine that you can’t get out to, and watching the clock, wishing it to be bedtime so that we can steal the last 30 minutes of sunshine for ourselves.
Let us love this weather, but let is not fool ourselves.  

Stepford Mammies we are not.
It’s not all pottering and gleefully finding bugs in the “gawden Dahling”.  Sometimes it’s a suncreamy, slippery, cranky sesspit of overheated mayhem, that will ultimately lead to 2 sticky, smelly and happily knackered minions CRASHING from a combination of sunshine and heat, and the need for all the bedsheets to be washed in the morning. 

(Trust me, THAT is easier than trying to bath these two tonight! 

Feral I tell you…😍😍😂😂)
And THEN, let us sup on cold grapes and enjoy the not so sunshiny, but still quite lovely evening, in the suncream free company of my boychild. 👇👇👇

Have a good one Lovelies. 😂😂😂

I am Sometimes I need my Mamma Mum 😚

​Sometimes, S-Mum needs her Mamma too. 👭
This evening I HAD TO stay at Mum’s for a few hours after work. 
See my driveway was full of lorries and diggers and workmen.  It looked like the opening of “Fraggle Rock”, so I was FORCED to pop in to hers for an hour…or three!
She drank tea.🍵

I drank coffee.☕

We ate cake…(Seriously guys, she is THE BEST BAKER in the world. Click onto Cakes by Ann to see!)🍰
She cooked dinner.

Princess rearranged ALL of her cupboards.


Mini-Me provided a moment of immense achievement for Techy-Granny as her demands for Inside-Out caused Granny to figure out how to work the Brother’s Playstation as a DVD player!  

I am in AWE of this woman.

I wouldn’t even know where the on switch is.😅
And then, I brought my Minions home and we have just had the most suspiciously calm and ordinary bedtime EVER…
This morning however?
This morning was not so calm.😭😭😭
We slept in.

I had NOTHING DONE before bed last night, because the smug TIT that is S-Mum had planned the usual 5.30am start and didn’t consider ironing uniforms or making lunches before bed.  Clever Mummy.
We were running on the dodgy side of late.

I dropped Princess next door, realised I’d forgotten her dummies (not just 1 for my ruined rascal!), jumped back into the car to grab them from the house, spun the car BACK AROUND because of Big Digger SUDDENLY BLOCKING my driveway, ran back into Mum’s, kissed the Baby and apologised profusely for lack of dummies, jumped back in car, remembered I’d forgotten her bibs and FINALLY started on our journey to school…feeling UTTERLY FRICKEN USELESS! 😂
Mini-Me THANKFULLY announced that she wanted Quiet time, so I allowed myself to be soothed back into a more positive vibe with the familiar soothing tones of Donal K on the radio machine… 
My train of thought followed this track:

“Snap out of it S-Mum.

You forgot her dummies, not her.

She’ll be fine.

Mum will get one from some magical place and Princess will not even know what a shit Mammy you are.

This is NOT a problem…

Other people have REAL problems…

Get over yourself…

Stop stressing…

Let that car out in front of you…

There we go…karma being restored already.

Positive thoughts only.

Practice what you preach…

Deep breaths…

Negativity breeds negati…
“Mammy.”

“Yes Darling?” 

“Why am I not allowed milk at school?”

(Vague recollection of note saying milk starts on the 23rd.)

“Of course you’re allowed milk at school Sweetie.”

(Shit.  Racks brain for memory of form to fill in…nope…nothing!)

“Teacher says I don’t get milk. Wilena gets milk coz HER Mammy sent a note and she’s ALLOWED milk, but I’m not, coz you never writed a note.”

(Seriously… I don’t remember ANYTHING about sending in a note. Shit Mummy!😭😭😭)

“Mammy will sort it pet.”
There’s that Train of thought again… like a steam train with a big sign on front of it announcing arrival at “USELESS MAMMY-ville” and whistling “You forgot the dummies Dummy and you didn’t writed a note!”
How easily the silliest things can become HUMONGOUS eh?
I writed the note before she got the bus.

She gotted the milk and so is no longer the unloved child with THAT Mummy.

Mum found a Dummie under the sofa.

Princess was unaware of the utter neglect.

The diggers blocked the driveway.

Granny made the dinner.

The kids went to bed…

Mammy poured a gin…

And they all lived happily ever after. 

😂

I am Soooo a Finalist Mum!

​Ok.

I have news…
Who would like to celebrate with S-Mum on this Tuesday evening? 
 Guess who is a Littlewoods Ireland Blog Awards 2016 FINALIST?
In BOTH categories! 😲😲😲

I’m fricken gobsmacked Ladybelles.

Thank you to everyone who voted for me.  I truly appreciate ALL of your support.💗
When I was nominated, I was chuffed.  Getting long-listed and then shortlisted was one surprise after another, but this is AMAZING!


Now, there is the small matter of an awards ceremony in Dublin on the 15th.
Wtf does one wear to a Circus themed party? 😂😂😂
I’m about to start the sticking on of the labels on the school stuff for Mini-Me here.  I shall now be doing so while looking like the Cheshire Cat. 😂


And I think I deserve a wee drinkeepoo, don’t you?
Cheers Supermums. 🍷💗🍷💗🍷💗🍷
#LWIBloggies #LWIBlogawards2016 #LWIBloggies2016 #SMum #finalist

I am Seeking Votes Mum

​Hi Ladybelles and Superdads!
It’s VOTING TIME!
If you click on either of the links below, it will bring you to the voting pages for my entries.
I’ve been shortlisted in two categories 

1. Best Blog Post  as    “I am Shake-a-bootay Mum”.

2. Parenting Blog   as   “Secrets of S-Mum”
You simply need to enter your name, email address and a password to make your vote.   


https://blogawardsireland.secure-platform.com/a/gallery/rounds/17/details/8624
https://blogawardsireland.secure-platform.com/a/gallery/rounds/17/details/8452
It really only takes a few seconds and I’d be SO over the moon if you could vote for me.
And if you’d be so kind as to share, I’ll raise a big huge “cheers” to you if and when I ever get around to having that celebratory grapejuice!

Thanks in advance.

(Voting closes on the 23rd.)
S-Mum 😘😘😘


#LWIbloggies2016 #SMum #bestparentingblog #bestblogpost