I am Such a Twat Mum

Mammy is a turbotwat.

Mammy drove in her gate this evening only to get a phone call from Afterschool.

“Hello?” (Checking Mirrors to make sure I have both girls in the car…)

“Hi Mammy. Erm. Just letting you know you left Mini-Me’s schoolbag in the middle of the carpark. We have it in the office here.”

Mammy doesn’t really know WHAT to say and so she laughs like a hysterical feckin hyena down the phone!

I could have apologised profusely and said things like “oh my goodness” and “Oh I’m SOOOOO embarrassed!” or “I cannot BELIEVE I did that!” I COULD have turned the car around like a good Mammy and gone back to get it.

But Who the feck would I be kidding? 🤣

Instead, I finished laughing and said “well it’s official so. I’ve lost it! I’m a twat!” followed by “If Himself doesn’t get in for it, I’ll get it on Monday morning.”

Then I laughed some more and thanked Lovely Lady for rescuing the poor bag, which I clearly remember setting down beside the car. (She knows me well enough by now. 😂)

Ah well.
“DID you SERIOUSLY forget my Bag Mammy?” She’s aghast and mortified…

“Yup. But guess what?”


“I didn’t forget YOU!”

Because at the minute, I wouldn’t really put ANYTHING past myself. 😂😂

Brain = MUSH!

How was your day? 😗😗

I am Silly Newsreader Mum

Woohoooo and Waaahaaaay!
Good news!
It is Yay of Friyay! It is the eve of no lunch boxes and no uniforms and no alarm clocks. It is the night of acceptable supping of a second glass of the grapes. It is wonderful and I am incredibly glad to see it.
It means that tomorrow is Saturday. The morning of snuggles and CBeebies and Lazy Breakfasts. And it is the morning NOT like the one I described on Thursday! (Until we have to get out the door to go somewhere and the crazy dance begins. It is the morning that we don’t rely on the 8am news to tell us it’s time to go.
I’ve mentioned before how the soothing tones of our lovely Donal Kavanagh starting the 8am news is the “Into the car Darlings!” moment in our house. (In truth it’s usually the END of the news when he says “Next Bulletin at 8.30. Good morning” that inspires “INTO THE CAAAAAAAAAR! WE’RE FECKIN LATE AGAIN!” song, but I could never tell you such truths as a Mammy Blogger, could I?!)
This week I asked the lovely lady who looks after Mini-Me after school to have a wee word with her about something… you know the way our children listen to every word that generally EVERYONE ELSE in the world says to them? How what Teacher says is gospel and Mammy and Daddy are but minions of the legion of the Sad Silly Omni-wrong Parent-type”” who know diddlysquat about ANYTHING in life until they are 25 and suddenly realise that we were right all along?
Yeah, so I asked her to mention how important breakfast is in the morning. I explained that I can’t get her to eat much and it’s causing great stress in the mornings.
I believe the conversation went like this:
“You know that it’s very important to eat breakfast in the morning to help you get big and strong?”
“And it’s very helpful to Mammy when you eat your breakfast once you get it so you can all get out the door?”
“So will you make sure to eat your breakfast tomorrow so poor Mammy isn’t panicking to get you all into the car?”
“Yeah. But… See how we are sometimes late getting into the car?”
“It’s not because I’m slow at eating my breakfast.”
“Oh no?”
“It’s that Donal Kavanagh’s fault. He just reads the news too early some mornings”.
I’m not sure the Lovely Lady answered that. I don’t think there IS an answer for that, is there?
Happy Fridays my Lovelies. Cheers to the weekend. Hope it’s full of good news, that is read on time! wineoclock

I am Say Shut Up Mum

“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 She flipped the Bird Mum

Sweet Jebus and Baby Japonica of the Netherregions, I may actually vomit from laughing tonight.
The photograph below might seem terrible and offensive.  The photograph I SHOULD post with this post, WOULD be terrible and offensive, because it SHOULD have my beautiful 5 year old in it instead of me. 😣

Let me explain…
Mini-Me is a picker.  She LOVES to pick things, but she especially loves to pick her fecking nails. 
Now, this is a habit that is becoming a problem. She has the nails so picked down that they are barely even nails anymore; more like extended cuticles.  I am at my wit’s end.
I’ve tried everything.  I’ve explained. I’ve scolded. I’ve tried to talk to her. I’ve shouted. I’ve bought fidget spinners. I’ve tried to teach her how to click her fingers and on the advice of a kiddy O.T., shown her lots of alternative things to do with her fingers. I’ve tried everything.  Blutac works, but only until it gets stuck in the carpet, or her hair, or until Princess tries ro eat it. 😂
So I’m now trying what EVERY Mamma resorts to in the end.
I’ve told her that if she can get a white nail back on her 10 fingers, I’ll take her to my beautician to get her a glittery polish.  
She’s trying soooooooooo hard.  Soooooooo hard in fact, that tonight when I mentioned that her nails were still very sore looking and that I can’t wait to see them qhen they get longer, she ran across the room at me, eyes bulging in her head, shouting with excitement  “But LOOOOKIT Mammy! I DOOOOOOO have one white nail on DIS HAND, LOOK!”
And it was clear to see that on her MIDDLE finger, there is a tiny slither of white appearing.
I almost died.
Trying so hard not to buckle laughing in front of her, I managed to praise her and tell her it looks so much stronger and that it’ll soon be time to go to get them polished.
She skipped off to show Princess (yup. Finger up into her wee face!) shouting behind her “I can’t WAIT to show Granny my nail tomorrow!” (Granny, you’ve been warned…😂😂)
So IF we meet you out and about over the weekend and my Darling Mini-Me “flips you the bird” or whatever you’d like to call it, please know that it is VEWY innocent and not at ALL because she sees it at home. I may swear like a sailer, but I would NEVER do this in front of her, (well, not to her FACE anyway!😂😂)   
So I hope you understand why I chose to stage the pic? As much of a Feck-it-up as I may sometimes be as a Mammy, I’m NOT quite THAT bad. 

Not yet anyway! 
Now, decisions.
Red or white? Glass or bottle?
How was your day? 


I am Setting her in the Car Mum

Have you ever wondered what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? 😭😭
Let me show you.  ðŸ‘‡ðŸ‘‡ðŸ‘‡

Imagine the inner monologues of the Mammy and the Princess…😂
Mammy:  “I shall gently set my perfect little Princess into her car seat and strap her in securely and we shall be on our merry way to continue the 287 errands I am trying to get done before we pick Mini-Me up. I am a very organised and clever Mammy who has ALL of my shit together and can not be stopped by anything today.  I shall put Princess into the car and drive to my next destination without any issue.”
Princess: “Will you feck Wench…” 
Mammy: “I am in charge. I am a strong Lady. I shall NOT be controlled by a wobbler.”
Princess : “How’s that going for you Woman?”
Mammy: “Oh how strong you are my Little Princess. Not to worry. I WILL get you into the carseat. I AM in charge.  I am strong.  I am in control.”
Princess: “You are a twit. I can do this ALL DAY Bitch.”
Mammy  “Why are you so strong, you stubborn little fart?”
Princess “Where do you think I get it from?”
Mammy “FML”
How was YOUR day? Any little planks? 😭😭
Have you found me on Facebook yet? Daily smumbles @the.s.mum xx

I am Sitting in a “Drivethrough” Mum 

Yesterday, I did it for the first time.
I wasn’t very sure or certain if it was the right time or place, but I just decided to give it a go. 

Everyone else is doing it afterall.

I can’t be the only one who’s never done it.

So I did it.
It was daunting.

It was frightening.
I was awkward and clumsy…so obviously inexperienced…but I did it.

And I got to the end without too many mistakes…
Yes. I gave up my flower.  

I gave in to the demons…
I did the drive through in a McDonalds.
All by myself.
After a particularly crazy evening, I found myself in the car at the EXACT time the two minions needed their dinner.
 I was faced with 2 options.

1. Listen to them screaming for 30 minutes in rush hour traffic, before going home to START cooking and end up feeding them 5 minutes before bedtime.

2. Go somewhere to eat, which would involve ordering, waiting and nervous breakdowns on all parts; Mammy, them and most likely the staff.
As I pulled out of the retail park, wondering how the actual FUCK I was going to Supermum my way out of this one and how the hell I timed everything so badly, the “golden arches” appeared in front of me and I broke.
“Let’s have a McDonalds shall we?” 

“What’s a McDonalds Mammy?” 
Yup. I shit you not! 

I got my chillout Mammy cap on, slapped the indimicator and swung into the drivethrough…(or “DrivethrU” if you’re not a complete Grammar Granny like this unfortunate soul.)
And as I pulled up behind a big white van, I realised I had NO IDEA what was about to happen.  Here is how it went…
Pulled up to tiny silver R2d2 box. Do I press a button? Will I get a ticket? How do I know when to speak? Fuck! Am I supposed to just start talking or do I wait until I’m spoken to? HELP HELP HELP!? 
“Hello, can I take your order please?”

Oh thank Lord. R2D2 speaks.

“Yeeeeesssss pleeeeeeease!” (I am so cool. Look at me! Ordering food from a machine, all by myself. I almost take a selfie, but I have to concentrate!)

“2 chicken nugget mealy things please.”

“2 Happy Meals?” 

“Yes! HAPPY meals! 2 of those please.” (I knew that!)

“What drinks?”

(Shit… drinks.) 

“A milkshake and a water please”

“What flavour shake?” R2D2 begins to list off flavours. My brain is about to explode. 


“Thatll be €279 please. Drive to the next window please.”
Ok. I can do this.

Next window.

Nobody here.

I can’t see anyone.

This window is not working.

White fan is at the window further on and getting his little brown bag of joy handed to him.


I am very clever. 

The first window is not in operation you silly Mammy. Drive on.
Begins to drive on. 

Puts back wheels up on kerb and bounces down off again.  Very graceful.
“Excuuuuuuse me!” 

Looks in rearview mirror to see head of McDonald’s worker sticking out obviously fully operational non-operational hatch, waving manically at the criminal in the Skoda trying to not pay for her Happy meals.

Please don’t let any other car come behind me.

I look so stupid.

Oh fuckitty fuck.

It’s ok s-Mum. No one knows you you silly lady. Just take a deep breath. You can do this. 
I Reverse the car, practicing my flippant “hahahaha silly me” laugh…
“Yes Mhaistreais! I thought that was your car!”


“Hi youuuuuu!  Is it obvious I’ve never done this before?” I ask my past student who is laughing energetically at me, and who most likely listened to one of my many rants on the grammatical negligance and ignorance of McFuckingDonalds’ in their “i’m loving it” campaign AT LEAST 45 times in his 6 years in my classroom.
That’s karma, bitch. 😂😂
I pay him, make small talk and have a good old mutual laugh at my obvious stupidity.
Then I drive to the next window, where a lovely girl hands me out the bags and drinks.

“Is that everything Madam?”

“Yes thanks!” (Do you serve gin?)

And actually, I’m a bit disappointed that Ronald McDonald didn’t serve me.
I drove out of the little 3ft wide drive through lane and I swear to God, I actually BREATHED! 😂😂
 I pulled in. The girls got fed the contents of the boxes. They were happy out. 

I was so proud of myself I rang The Him, who was spent the whole phonecall laughing at how obviously proud of my little self that I was.
So yes. 

I did it!
 It was the first time. (And like most first times, it was overrated and ultimately embarassing and hugely disappointing!)

But hey!

Needs must.

It was necessary and do you know what?

It did the feckin job. 😂😂

#mammywin #drivethroughnotthru #fml #happymealme