I am Someone’s Lowered the Loo Mum

I missed 2 sessions with Jim last week while Princess was indulging in Pukefest #38 of 2017.

I returned yesterday.
Today, I am thoroughly convinced that some gobshite has been sneaking around my house lowering the toilets while I was at work. I swear to God, they’re at least 6 inches lower than normal.

I was incredibly grateful that there are no stairs between my classroom and the coffee room… sorry, staff room… at work today. I might have made it UP the stairs, albeit it with accompanying soundtrack of “ow, ow, ow, ow…” but I may have had to slide or roll down them. It amuses me no end however when my colleagues hobble past me and hiss “I hate your Husband”. We’re all in this together… 😅😅

I am also glad we built a BUNGALOW. Otherwise, I would indeed be sleeping on the sofa tonight. 😅

There is pain, but it’s good pain.
It’s ridiculous how missing just a few sessions can affect my mood so much. I’m a whole lot less hormental when I get my few hours in.

What was it that Elle Woods said?
👜💞👡”Endorphins make you happy.”👜💞👡
Well this is true. And battering the bejayzuz out of things in The Him’s Jim, definitely releases my inner Elle Woods.

I’m not sure how impressed The Him was at my analogy of how to do one of the exercises properly however. He calls it a “squat thrust”, which sounds altogether inappropriate and sordid and difficult.
I prefer “the bend and snap!” 😍😆

In other news, did you know that if someone in your child’s school tells her that they are cousins, then no matter HOW much you tell her they’re NOT, you are WRONG?
Also, if you correct one of her Irish words, you are WRONG because “our Iwish is different than yours”? AND if you tell her that it’s bedtime, apparently you’re the spawn of Satan and need to be screamed at and stomped at for precisely 17 minutes?

And so begin the Teenage years.
How was your day?
😥😥😥

I am Sometimes Invisible Mum

“Get away from me with that camera”.

How many of you have said this? How many times have you said it?

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If you’re like me, you’ll have a smartphone that is permanently slow because it has eleventy squillion photographs on it.

And if you’re like me, you’ll have photographs of everyone and everything you love, but very few of yourself.  I’d say 75% of my pics are of the girls and The Him. 20% of utter nonsense like food and random selfies, and the last 5%, screenshots of great ideas and funny memes and dresses I will never buy.

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Apart from the silly selfies however, (and I say Silly because we usually have our tongues out or are pulling funny faces in them!), there are no photographs of me and my girls.

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I realised this when I had to send a photograph of myself with Mini-Me and Princess to a newspaper this week. I spent 20 minutes scrolling through my phone and in the end, had to message The Him to ask him if he had any on HIS phone.

But it got me thinking about Mammies and how so often, we end up invisible. We’re usually behind the camera. And if anyone suggests that we step into a photograph, 9 times out of 10 we’ll have some way of getting out of it:

“Not at all,”

“I don’t need to be in any pictures”

“Get that camera AWAY from me”

“I haven’t even brushed my hair”

“Look at the shape of me”

“Just snap them”

“Get AWAY with the camera”

“I look dreadful”

“Nah I’m grand here thanks!”

You could all add your own to this no doubt…

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We all do it.  And the result is going to be a million memories for our kids where the only part of Mammy in the pictures is her shadow or her hand holding the wobbly baby up.

But here’s the thing.  Our children don’t care about how Mammy looks, or if her hair is brushed, or if she looks knackered.   When they are older and looking through the millions of images of their childhoods, all they’ll care about is that we’re IN the pictures. And they won’t see the makeup or the neat hair, they’ll only see the love. They’ll only see the moment. They’ll only see Mammy.

 

So take that picture.

You’re gorgeous. Your kids don’t care what you look like. That’s all YOU. They think you’re perfect already.

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So shake off those insecurities and forget about the “shape of you”. Smile and let yourself be captured in the memories of your smartphones.

Jump into the shot if someone asks you to. Be more than just the shadow or the Invisible Mammy, because someday, these photographs will be so much more important than our shyness or insecurities.  They’ll be cherished and loved by our loved ones, more than we can ever imagine.

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Read more on The S-Mum’s website https://the-smum.com  or join the conversation on Facebook @the.s.mum

Read more on my Thoroughly Modern Mammy column on http://www.donegalwoman.ie

The S-Mum xx

 

I am Sleeping on my Head Mum

Well my little Princess is much better. Thank you for all the messages.

When Mini-Me was her age, she used to wake up at 5am and come into the bed between The Him and I for a wee snooze. She’d choose which of us she wanted to snuggle, swing her wee arm around a neck and settle in for another sleep. ❤❤❤

Princess has NEVER been like this. 😶
She only sleeps in our bed if she’s sick.
This morning, she woke at 5.30am. Being the knackered Mombie that I am after 3 rough days and 3 nights of no sleep, I brought her in between us, praying that she’d go back to sleep for an hour.
Lo and behold, she did.

She wrapped herself like a fecking CAT around my head, and no matter how many times I gently moved her off me, she shuffled her fudgybum back onto me each time.

I woke up looking right into her perfect wee face, innocent and still, breathing little kitten breaths ❤ and cooing gently, and I filled with a warm fuzzy fluffy joy at the sight.😍 She looked just like her big sister. I closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of her nose against mine…and then I remembered WHY I had brought her into the bed and I FROZE!

You see, princess is a silent puker. When she is sick, there is NO SOUND.
NONE… NOT A PEEP.
Just puke.
And no sleep. (Just me, sitting up in the bed, snoozing, WEARING my glasses, ready to grab her and the basin in 0.4 seconds.😥😂)

And so I remembered VERY quickly that it wasn’t my LOVE of having Baby-in-the-bed, but rather my FEAR of Baby-in-the-puke that made me break the norm and bring her in to my bed. And I realised that if she DID indeed decide to, the my face was 100% in line for a face mask.

I wasn’t long forgetting the warm fuzziness and manoeuvring that pretty little face away from mine Ladybelles, let me tell you.😂😂 I don’t think I’ve moved that fast EVER before!

Thankfully, she’s much better and thanks to magic pink medicine, normality has resumed.

The only side effect is that she seems to have grown a set of fluffy Bear ears👇👇👇,

…but I’ll take fluffy bear ears over sad panda eyes and puke ANY DAY! 😂😂😂

In other news, did you KNOW that cutting a child’s toast into triangles instead of windows is a bonafide reason for WW3 to break out in your house before 8am?

Silly Daddy. 😯

(How cute is the wee band? €4 in Dunnes Stores Ladybelles! )

I am Snored Mum

Anyone else feel as if they’ve been hit by a double decker bus?

I was in great form yesterday, full of energy and enthusiasm for the weekend after the madness of week 1. We had a lovely date night last night. (Saw Detroit. Tight watch but superb.) I went to bed rather smug in my ability to be all the everything and keep all of the plates spinning, and then I woke up this morning COMPLETELY knackered and spent the day dealing with an exhausted Mini-Me and teething, shattered Wobbler. (A bag of bitches in a briared hedge we were. 😛😛)
But The Him was well rested. 😠
Why?

I’ll fecking tell you why…

You see at 5.45am, Princess Headtheball began chirping through the monitor for her “Dodee” and her “Mammee”… And where “Mammeeeee” usually knows that she’ll eventually find the dodees herself and go back to sleep, you know, because it’s still the MIDDLE OF THE FECKIN NIGHT, The Him is not quite so clever. Before I was awake enough to STOP the big Gombeen, he was up and in her room, talking in soothing, FOOLISH, NAIVE tones to the Rugmonster that is our youngest manipulator. “Sssssssssh now. You lie down and go back to sleep etc…” 😅
I could hear her raising her eyebrow at him. I could hear him returning to the bedroom door in a fultile and quite hilarious attempt at leaving her there… and then I could hear the apopleptic SCREAM that signified that she was having NONE of it. It translated into “YOU get back in to this room and you lift my soggy bottom and slabbery head RIGHT NOW Servant Man. And Mammeeee? Bring me to her, Peasant.”😂

Fully awake now, Mammy here was thinking what a silly, foolish man her Him was and how he’d know about it now that he would have to get up at stupid o’clock on a Sunday Morning…

Into the bedroom he carries her. WTF?😠😠
“She’ll go back to sleep beside us” he explains.
Will she indeed?
Will she FECK! 😂😂😂

You see, poor Him was being both foolish and optimistic, but was also POSSIBLY trying to prove a point. Because last weekend when we collected the girls from a sleepover in Granny Dearest’s, Granda Bear informed us that she’d woken at 6am but that she’d slept in beside them until 8.40am…

But The Him forgot that such unusual and magical mysteries ONLY happen in the magical Narnia of the Grandparents’ house. Such occurences are not of the real world. 😛 Parents NEVER get to enjoy that kind of joy. NOPE.

Persistent as he is, he did indeed plonk her in beside me before climbing back into bed. She snuggled into me and for about 38 seconds, I thought she would go back to sleep. But then, she reminded me of her intentions to get OUT OF BED by spending 30 minutes sticking random limbs into my back, sitting on my head and sticking her fingers up my nose, into m mouth and into my ears.

That was it. He was going to have to get up and take her up to the kitchen.

Afterall , it WAS HIS mistake wasn’t it? I was just about to tell him as much when I heard it.

The one sound that can send a tired and hormental Mammy-type over the edge, into insanity and off her fecking head…

Yep.
He SNORED.😢😠😠😠😠😠

HOW I did not take a pillow and SUFFOCATE his slumbering, slabbering, snoring self in that instant, I will never know. (But the next time there are nominations sought for saintly people who go above and beyond for the safety and survival of others, think of me). 😅

And so Mammy ended up doing her usual “FFS I’ll do it MYSELF” stomping dance and getting up to watch CBeebies with the Fudgemonster. But, because Mini-Me was still asleep, I didn’t get to do it loudly enough for Sleeping Beauty to even hear me. 😅😠
As usual, NO ONE WAS LISTENING!

Has he learned his lesson? OH indeed he has. Because not only did he have to deal with his very own Bunnyboiler/EmilyRose😈 when he got up, he also had to deal with the Wobbler when she entered the realm of “past her sleep tired” that we parents all dread and fear so much.

Oh! And he has also been reminded 398 times that I am sleeping until 2pm next Sunday…

Yeah. What are the chances of that happening Mammies?😂😂😂

How was your day?

I am Sad Mum

It’s here. It’s the end of the summer holidays and the night before Workmas. I’m a bit of a wreck today if I’m honest Ladies.

It’s as if Princess knows too. She’s climbed up on me for cuddles 43 times, and run to me to be lifted 83 times. It’s as if she has a sixth sense. Little skitter. 😅😣 And Mini-Me has been the PERFECT child today. Perfect. I shit you not. I didn’t have to raise my voice once today. She told me she loved me 3 times, did EVERYTHING I asked her to, AND she ASKED if she could dust the telly. (Now, this might have been because it hasn’t been cleaned in eleventy squillion months and she couldn’t SEE it, but I’ll take it.) 😅

I’ve spent the day organising wardrobes and drawers, because let’s be honest, it’s easier to get everyone out the door when you actually KNOW where clothes are. 😅(Is it bad that I sometimes consider going to Penneysbest and just BUYING new clothes for them instead of facing the pit that is my tiddilyday room? )

I stopped short of rearranging all the furniture in the house for two reasons:

1. I prefer to keep THAT trick for when The Him’s not expecting it. And today, he’s expecting it. He knows what I’m like!😈😈

2. I didn’t have time between all the laundry and cuddles.😣

I’ve loved being off with my girls.💖 The summer has been good to us. I have a heart full of memories and a phone full of photographs.

Yes, I hate the thought of dropping them off tomorrow and I’m dreading how long I’m going to be away from them each day, but don’t we all? 😥

Don’t get me wrong, a part of me is actually looking forward to going back to my other job, but after 2 years of being off or part-time, Me going back to work full-time is going to be a serious shock to everyone’s system. Has to be done though. It’s time to pull up the big girl knickers, dig out my teacher clothes and put on makeup every day again! (The thought of it!) 😣😣

But for tonight, I’m going to finish the summer with a large G&T and try to finally finish my blog post on our trip to NYC. I figure if I spend tonight looking back on summer, I don’t have to deal with it being over…until the morning!

Cheers Supermums xxx

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 “Say What Mummy Pig?” Mum

Now. You all know how much I love/hate Peppa Pork.

Most days, it doesn’t even register with my brain that it’s on, apart from when Princess screams “Paaapaaaaa!” at the top of her voice at the Tellybox. As much as I despise the nasal whining of Peppa as she bitches about everything her life throws at her, bosses George around, ignores Mammy and humiliates her Daddy for being fat, this squeal of delight from my youngest also indicates to ME that I have 3 minutes to pee, or shower, or breathe.

See? Love/hate. 😂

Usually their little Piggy voices wash over my head. I pay little attention to the spoilt little piggy and her mono-wordallic brother or her poor, underappreciated Mammy Pig (who quite frankly HAS to be mixing her happy pills with gin and valium under the stairs in order to maintain such a chirpy disposition amidst this level of feckin stupidity), but today, TODAY, Mammy Pig said something SO utterly RIDICULOUS and SO obviously STUPID, that my ears had to prick up.

😐 “Naughty Daddy” quipped Mummy Pork. “Look at how dirty your car is!”

Right. Back up there Bacon-arse.

Let’s rewind a second here…😡

In what world, on what planet, in which TIME ZONE, would the Mammy have to chastise the DADDY for having a messy car? Because in the REAL world, the parent who has the children 90% of the time, has the car which is messy. EVERYONE knows that.

Actually, the second the car seat goes into the family car, it transforms magically into a bin on wheels. The floor becomes invisible under mountains of crap, never to be seen again until your youngest is approximately 11 years old. Things get sticky. Things become unsettlingly dirty. Things begin to grow on upholstery…No matter how OCD you are about tidy and clean, any chance you have of keeping a tidy car, go out the window at the same time as your “Eminem” CD or “Book of Mormon” Soundtrack.

Even when you attempt to organise the back seat, you know with wee boxes and containers, all you are REALLY doing, is adding MORE CRAP to the mess; adding MORE STUFF for them to chuck around when you’re driving… So considering that Daddy Pig said that he’d take the family on a car run for “a treat”, thereby suggesting that he is in the car ALL BY HIMSELF 99% of the fecking time, FORGIVE ME for wondering why the fook his car would be messy!?

Because in MY experience, it’s Mammy Pig’s car that is disgusting and dirty and messy, while Daddy’s still looks like it did the day he drove it out of Daddy Dog’s garage and the little Piggies aren’t ALLOWED to eat in Daddy Pig’s car, because they’re never IN IT long enough to BREAK Daddy’s soul or drive him to screaming “Just EAT IT THEN!”

So well done Peppa Pork writers. So much for providing realistic and relevant subject matter in your multicoloured portrayal of the life of piggies. See if it had been Daddy opening Mammy Pig’s car and shouting “WTF is going on with your car woman? It’s fecking MINGING!” I’d probably have sat down with them to watch it.

Fecking Peppa.

Bacon for dinner anyone? 😂