I am Singing Happy Blogday to Me Mum!

Oh my BOOBNESS!
It’s my Blog’s birthday. It’s my Blogday! The S-Mum is THREE years old today. How the hell did that happen?
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When I started this, I was desperate to stay anonymous, terrified of what people would think and didn’t really know if I’d do it for long. It was a hobby. A way of finally doing that thing I’d been procrastinating about for so long; writing!
Well how things have changed eh?
I now have TWO little dictators at my ankles and they keep me on my toes every day. They are my inspiration and my world. And as much as some days I want to hide in the washing machine with a bottle of gin, I adore them both to the moon and back.
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Mad as a bag of brambles I tell you!

What other people think about me and my style of parenting (“style!” Makes it sound quite fablis doesn’t it…”Sham” might be more appropriate!)… doesn’t matter a damn to me. My Bullshit Barometer is so broken that even if I looked hard, I don’t think I could physically find two shits to give if people don’t like what I write.
I am no longer anonymous. That didn’t last long! I’m loud and proud and happy to write about being a Mammy. I love that so many other Mammies (and Daddies) get a encouragement or enjoyment or a laugh at least from my words. I adore the messages I get from Mums who say “You’ve read my mind”. And I love all of the opportunities this blog has presented to me.
I’ve made many new friends over the past 3 years, both in the Blogworld and in real life. I’ve laughed. I’ve cried. I’ve sworn. I’ve ranted. I’ve loved. I’ve lost and I’ve lived. And somehow, I’ve managed to keep finding time to write. And amazingly, you’ve kept finding time to read and interact.
Thank you.
Thank you for reading and commenting and laughing along with me. Thank you for supporting when things haven’t been fablis. Thank you for helping me, one Mammy to another.
I will keep writing. In fact, by the end of this year, I intend to have some of these smumblings printed on actual paper. In actual type. In a real book. I’m working on it. And now that I’ve said it, I have to right?
You are my Mammy Squad and you are Supermums.
Shall we have a virtual “Cheers” tonight Ladybelles? 9pm on the sofa? Who’s joining me?
Love and Thanks,
The Blogday Girl xxx
Here is the very first piece I wrote, this day three years ago. It didn’t make me cringe quite as much as I thought if would if I’m honest.
“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 She’s Six Mum

Tonight I am putting my 5 year old to bed. Tomorrow she shall be six.

How did that happen?

 

Mammy’s Wee Jewel.

Sparkling and shiny but tougher than stone

You entered our world with a mind of your own.

We wondered what all of the fuss was about,

But quickly learned that we could not live without

Your laughter and giggles, your glistening blue eyes,

Your mischief and wonder and oh what a smile.

So kind and so clever, you feel everything

A sensitive soul who would do anything

To make us all happy, the perfect big sis,

You showed us what love was from the very first kiss

That I planted so gently on the bridge of your nose,

And tickled your belly and massaged your toes.

And while we have rows and sometimes things go wrong

A part of me loves that you’re so darn headstrong

Because while you are sensitive and nervous and scared,

You’re also determined and stubborn and fair.

You’re clever and kind and your singing is sweet

And a beautiful dancer, so light on your feet.

You are my wee Darling, My own Mini-Me

And I’m proud of the wonderful girl that I see

Growing up right in front of me so very fast

And time may keep passing, but my love for you lasts

Beyond every worry and tantrum and rule

Because you’ll always be Mammy’s most precious wee jewel.

 

Happy Birthday Darling.

Mammy xxxx

I am Some Last Firsts Mum

My Baby

Tonight Mammy is hormental.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that even though I keep referring to Princess as The Baby, she is in fact, not a baby any more.

Tonight, I put my last one year old to bed for the last time.

In the morning, she shall be two.

Two.  

A real number.  

No longer counted in months… no more 18 months.  No more “one and a bit”.

Nope.  From tomorrow, she is TWO.

And someone needs to pinch me and explain how the HELL that happened?

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In my head, she’s a Baby.  

But more and more as I look at her, I’m getting reminded that she is in fact a little girl. She’s a toddler.  She’s a kid.  

Not a baby any more.

And while her dress for her 2nd birthday party is for aged 3, it doesn’t matter how big she gets, or how tall she gets, or how old she gets.  She WILL always be MY Baby.  

Maybe I’m emotional because I reckon she’s my last first; my Last first birthday. Last first shoes.  Last first tummy bug.  Last first tooth.  She’ll be our last first day at school.  Last first everything.

Does this make me sad?  NOPE.  But it does make me pay just a little more attention to these little lasts.  I find myself memorising things. Watching a little more closely.  Hugging a little tighter.

And while tonight should not be sad, because of course every year marks a celebration of life and of health… for some reason, I have a wee lump in my throat.  I was teary putting her into her cot.  I found myself watching her and savouring her more today.  Maybe because of that last first.  

How did she get so big?  Where have those 2 years gone?  If I close my eyes, I can still smell her as a new baby snuggled into me.  I can still see her face as it was the second I met her.  In my head, she hasn’t changed a bit.  In reality, she’s thriving. And I thank my lucky stars.

Tonight, as I tuck them in, I have a five-and-a-half-and-three-quarter year old who will be 17 on her next birthday… and a Baby.

From tomorrow, I’ll have a five-and-a-half-and-three-quarter year old who will be 17 on her next birthday… and a TWOublemaker.

Let the fun begin.
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I am Simple letter to my Birthday Girl Mum 

​Dear Mini-Me 
5.

FIVE.

Holy Jemima…where did that go? 
I’ve just tucked you in after your special day.  You’re creamcrackered and tucked up between your new Trolls dolls, so I’m guessing that there’ll be no sleep for the next hour or so anyway. 

It’s been a busy day, filled with fun and family and presents and cake.
Mammy did her very best to make it perfect.

To make it memorable.

To make you have the most wonderful day ever.
This birthday is particularly important to Mammy.  Why? Because I remember when I turned 5.  I remember it vividly. It’s probably one of my clearest early memories.

I remember wakening up that morning and just KNOWING that it was a big deal.  I was 5. Finally. I was the SAME age as my two best friends. The same age as my cousin Karen. And more importantly, I was FINALLY older than your uncle Danny again! It was really annoying being the same age as him for 3 weeks each year.  

Being 5 fixed that. 😂
I had made it.  I was 5.  I remember Granda saying “Where’s my big 5 year old?”, and hugging me, (just like your Daddy did you this morning), and feeling sooooooo grown up. 
I remember getting a Nurse’s costume and a little Nurse’s set and I decided there and then I would be a Nurse when I grew up.  That changed. And that’s OK. You’ll change your mind too. Today, you want to be a farmer and a Superhero. You can do whatever you want to be.  

Because you’re brilliant.
I remember having 3 friends come over after school for cake.  I remember Granny and Granda coming for tea. I remember going to bed that night, wondering what would happen tomorrow, now that I was the grand old age of 5.  I remember thinking that it had been the best birthday ever…

Because it was. 

I don’t remember anything else, except the good things.

I’m sure there were squabbles. I’m sure I was told off once or twice.  I’m sure there were moments of that perfect day that were normal and ordinary and maybe even crappy, but my memory (with the help of my mum and dad) only allowed the happy to stay in my mind.
And I hope and pray that this will be the same for you, when you look back on YOUR 5th birthday someday. 💖
And I hope that you are as lucky as your Mammy has been to have your own little buddy by then.

And that you too try to make her 5th birthday a happy one.

Because I did try. And I hope I succeeded.
I even tried extra hard to NOT scold or give out to you because it’s your birthday.  I did OK. Yes, we had that wee row before bedtime. But I’ve already said I’m sorry and that I love you and tried to explain that you have to TRY to listen to me sometimes.  I know I shouldn’t have scolded on your special day, but Mammy is sometimes quite terrible and grumpy and needs a kick up the arse.  And believe me, Mammy felt quite shitty afterwards. It’s OK though, because we had a talk and a cuddle and read a story and talked about the day you were born and I’ve told you all the things I love about you, so I hope that has helped you go to bed knowing that I love you so much it sometimes hurts. 😥

Because I do.💖💖
I love your face, your beautiful eyes, your little nose, those rosebud lips, your voice, your gangly limbs, your humour, your wit and that kind and sensitive little heart which I try every day to strengthen and build up, although sometimes I feel like I do nothing but break it. 

And someday, you’ll be a Mammy too and you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
You’ve had a nice day. You’ve felt like you’re the centre of the universe for a day. And even your sister being sick and grumpiful all afternoon didn’t upset you did it? 

Because you won’t remember that anyway will you? 

Because with her, all you see is love and fun.

And I hope that lasts forever.

Because this 👇👇👇 THIS little birthday hug right here👇👇👇, is all that matters in the world, to you, to her and to us.


So if you read this, whether you’re 15 or 35, remember whatever you can about your 5th birthday and do me a favour? Ring me or visit and tell me about it.  
Oh, and go hug your sister.

You’re never too old for that. 💖💖
Happy birthday my Mini-Me 

You Mamma Bear x

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