Tag Archives: children

I am Some Chilling Facts Mum

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“And that’s how valleys were made!” says Daddy, utterly proud of himself as he helps Mini-Me into her carseat.  He’s just had her looking over one of Donegal’s most beautiful valleys, The Poison Glen.

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Look at meeeeee Daddy!

They’ve stood out, looking and pointing and chatting, with Daddy being ‘the business’, informing her, teaching her, being the Daddy of all knowledge, and her little ears taking it all in.  I’ve been in the car with a sleeping Princess who quite frankly couldn’t give a hoot about anything other than when she next gets to eat or sleep.

He straps himself in and starts to drive.

‘Did the Ice-age really happen then?’ she asks, still wide eyed.

‘It did indeed.’  he answers smugly.

‘When like?’

‘Oh Millions of years ago.’

I’m enjoying this.  It’s nice having someone else answer her questions!  It reminds me of when I was her age and my Daddy knew EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING too. I was in awe of him.  (I still am.)

The Him’s enjoying it too. He smiles his handsome smile at me as he stops at a junction. Superdaddy…

‘Millions of years ago Daddy? Really?’  There’s doubt in her voice/

‘Yep.  Millions and millions of years ago…’

‘And was it really cold?’

‘It was. So cold that everything was covered in ice!’

(I know what’s coming in the way that only a Mammy can know what’s coming…)

‘So did Granny have to buy you a warmer coat?’

And just like that, his ice bubble was shattered into millions of pieces.  It’s amazing how quickly thathandsome smile can be replaced by Grumpy grump!

I turned up the heating.  It was suddenly quite chilly in the car…

 

I am She was wearing the Blue Jumper Mum

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Mini-Me’s powers of description and interrogation are wonderful. There are departments of Intelligence all over the world who could do with hiring her.

Daddy was driving yesterday as we passed a local school.   

Mini-Me announces:

“My friend Nancy goes to that school.”

“Very good Darling.”

“She doesn’t go to my school but we’re still best fwends.”

“I wonder if they were in Daddy’s gym the day the school visited.”

“WHAT?”

“Some of the boys and girls from that school came to visit Daddy’s gym last month. I wonder was your friend there.”

“Are you JOKIN?”

“No. I’m not joking.”

“You mean to tell me that my BEST fwend Nancy came to see your gym and she NEVER told me?”

“Well I don’t know.  Maybe she wasn’t there.”

red hair

“Was there a girl there with Red hair?”

“There were lots of girls there.”

“But was there a girl with red hair?”

“Maybe…”

“With reddy Blonde hair?”

“Ehm.  I’m not sure.”

“Well it’s more blonde. Was there a girl there with blonde hair?”

“There might have been pet. I don’t…”

“It’s long and wavy and blonde… with red. It’s kind of red but a wee bit blonde.”

“Daddy didn’t notice.  There were lots and lots of girls and boys there.”

“But was there a girl there with red hair and GLASSES?”

“I…”

“Glasses Daddy.  You HAVE to have seen the glasses?”

“Daddy didn’t look…”

“They are blue…or mabye green glasses.”

Erm…

“And they might have Cinderella on the side.  Did you see a girl with reddy blonde hair and bluey-green Cinderella glasses in your gym Daddy?”

(Daddy’s eyes are beginning to glaze over…)

“I’m not sure.”

“You HAVE to KNOW Daddy?  She was probably wearing a blue jumper.”

Daddy is now speechless.  Mammy decides to help…

“Come on now Ted, she was wearing the blue jumper like”.

It’s probably a good job he was driving…

 

I am STOP that Wobbler Mum!

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There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good,
She was very very good.
And when she was bad…
She threw strops in the shops because Bad Mammy refused to buy her “SVEEEEEEETIES” despite her digging her heels in and having to be dragged out of the shop with Mammy’s not-carrying-shopping-including-eggs hand, past all of the disapproving Sanctimammies who are tutting at the display of Maternal mayhem (TUTTERS!), but who would have been tutting also had Mammy given in and bought the feckin “Sveeties” because THEN Mammy would have been one of THOSE weak Mammies who gives in to every mental whim of her Pintsized Dictator and who is obviously to blame for the whole downfall of the millenial generation, rather than being the strong willed feckin ROCK that Mammy IS by training her minions that sometimes they DON’T GET FECKIN SVEEEEEETIES just because they’re in a shop.

Then when she’s reached the car and is trying to balance tantrum throwing harlot with groceries and eggs, while also ensuring that other child doesn’t get knocked over, the little girl with the fecking curl breaks free and makes a RUN for it….IN the carpark. (Thankfully against the wall of the shop), but nonetheless, fast enough for Mammy to have to fuck the eggs and groceries onto the ground and RUN as fast as her stupid heels would let her… to catch the minibitch who had suddenly developed speed designed only people with the name Bolt to run on circular tracks.

Thankfully Mammy acquired said Mini before she made it into a more dangerous part of the carpark, but not before Mammy had lost her carkeys, which were thankfully returned promptly by the lovely son of a lovely Supermammy who had watched the whole sorry affair started by the Little Girl with the Fecking Curl, without tutting or commenting (because she is nice rather than a tutter) and so Mammy finally got her Princess strapped safely, (if a little more tightly than usual) into the car seat safely and in one piece…

..which is more than can be said for the feckin eggs.

#SweetChristonabikeIneedavalium #Whendidthelittleshitgetsofast
#feckingcarparks
#cutelittlemonster

I am Say Shut Up Mum

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“I need to put on my lupstuck QUICKLY Mammy!”

Yeah to sit in a dark auditorium for the next 3 hours? Whatever! 5 going on 15.

And yet as grown up as she’s getting, sometimes things remind me of her adorable innocence! 

Like the radio.

We’re driving home after the panto and I’m not really paying much attention to the radio. That is, until I find myself humming along to “I wanna sex you up!” and realise what’s is playing! 

Christ alive!

 Just as I turn it down, oh so subtly, to save the ears of my little one, she tuts.

“What a Very wude song Mammy” she scolds.

Holy shit methinks.  She knows the word sex. She knows that sex is a rude Word. (For the radio!) Hang on. Where has she heard That? How does she know? What’s haaaaappening?

“It is indeed” Mammy agrees. 

“Did you HEAR what that man was singing?” 

“Erm yeah…”

“What Silly words. Why would you sing a song Saying ‘I wanna say SHUT UP!’ So weird like!” 

“I wanna say shut up?”

“Yeah Mammy. Dat’s what he was singing!” 

Sing it wuf me Mammies! 

“I wanna say SHUT up!” 😂😂😂 

Happy Sauvignon…sorry, Saturday! 🍷

By the way, are you following me on Facebook? You should. The craic is mighty! 

I am Scheme of Things Mum

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Well it’s all done and dusted.

This year was pretty disastrous to be fair. At one point on Christmas Eve it felt like anything that could go wrong, was going to! 

And it did…

😐Our heating system broke a few days before Christmas and can’t be fixed until January. 

😐The Christmas tree lights broke on Christmas Eve.

😐My hoover broke. 

😐Princess has been sick ALL over Christmas.

We didn’t get all of the wee cousins together for even ONE photograph. She was having NONE of ANYTHING and has spent the past 4 days sitting ON Mammy. How I cooked dinner, feck knows.

She is literally only looking at what Santa left this morning…wee pet.

We’ve been to the doctors today and hopefully now she’ll be on the mend, but Christ having a poorly Babby in the house over Christmas just dampens it all, doesn’t it?

Lookit.

In the scheme of things, “whatever”.

And of course, in the scheme of things, I have NOTHING to complain about.

In the scheme of things, there are so many others who would kill for my little disasters. 

But when you’re in the midst of things, “the scheme of things” means Jack Shit.

And sometimes, if Mammy wants to roll her eyes to Heaven, stamp her foot and declare “fuck this for a bag of parsnips” or “Christmas spirit my arse”, then she shall. Because in MY scheme of things, things could have been better!  

And I Shouldn’t feel guilty for grumbling a bit. When it’s Mammy’s job to keep everyone else smiling, if she wants to feel a bit sorry for her sorry wee self when things break or go wrong, that’s allowed too. As usual however, after swearing a bit and cursing everything,  Mammy pulled up her big girl knickers and sucked it up.

In the scheme of things, wee buns.

We did have a lovely Christmas. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👧

Mini-me has had the time of her Wee life and isn’t that what really matters?

The lights got replaced at 10pm on Christmas Eve.

The Gillespie Mafia had 8 heaters on my doorstep within an hour of my Daddy sending the S.O.S to my aunts and Uncles. 

The hoover magically came to life again IN the shop when I took it in to complain, making me look all levels of psychobitch to the 4 snuggling Salesmen behind the counter on Christmas Eve.

And the Princess simply has a yucky old flu that will eventually pass,  so really, Mammy shouldn’t complain.

In the scheme of things, it was fab.  

I did get a few nice snaps, but Trust me, for each if the nice ones, there are 8 real-lifers. 

And everyone has them. So remember as you’re looking at all the picture perfect Instafeeds, behind all of those picture perfect moments, there might be a broken fridge, or a Puking baby, or broken heating, or a wobbly marriage, or a Screaming toddler, or a nasty illness, or a broken heart or an empty chair…

Real Life usually happens off camera,  (but when we DO capture it, it can be so funny that it reminds us that “in the scheme of things”, real life rocks! 👇👇👇)

How was your Christmas Mammies? Any clangers for me?