Tag Archives: humour

I am Suspicious smell Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, toddlers, wine by

​FINALLY.

My arse is on a seat.
I WANT to say I’m cosied up in my PJs for the foreseeable future, with the remote to the androidy yoke, a large glass of bubbles and scented candles…
I HAVE to say I’m sitting down for 5 minutes to say hello to you before I start to tidy this bombsite and start dinner.

 The PJs are not on yet as that would require me going into the hall which might lead to the awakening of the monsters and frankly, I’d rather work on deepening the red track of the jeans around my belly! 

 Even with my obvious ninja stealth and carefully choreographed movement, those two are trained to pick up on ANY sound from the hall in the first 20 minutes of slumber. The hall is a NoGo area for another 17 minutes.  😪😪😪
 Scented candles?  The only scent I’m getting is a suspicious “pong du puke”. 

I have no idea where it’s coming from, but there is definitely a pungent whiff eminating from some crevice or hidden burp-cloth or lost bib…
I was delighted today to get a text from my friend to say that her husband had taken their Princess swimming, only for said Princess to shit in the swimnappy and by proxy, in the swimsuit.  💩💩💩

The lovely chemicals in the water created some sort of spontaneous combustion and altered the physical state of said shit into a consistency that babywipes could do nothing but slide over.  Hence her message ended with the words:

“He’s just text to run a bath because they’re both clattered in poo!”💩

I can not TELL you the JOY I got from reading this.   (Joy and obviously utter entertainment!)

After a week of purple plops of that same babywipe defying consistency, it made me happy to know that somewhere out there, another parent was dealing with the same shit…literally. 😂😂
And isn’t that the best thing about this interweb and these parenting blogs? That we can realise that

1. We’re not mental

2. We’re completely normal

3. Other people think and go through the same as us

4. There’s nothing wrong with sometimes asking for help, or admitting you’re scared, or crying.

5. Many other Mummies and Daddies need…sorry, like…wine and Gin and there’s a possibility that youre not actually a raving alcoholic.  You’re just a parent.

6. There is no manual and there is no perfect parent.  If you feed them and love your kids, you’re doing great.

7. Sometimes, being a parent is lonely.

8. Most times, being a parent is AWESOME.
Mini-Me has become obsessed with a new book.  MY 1ST ENCYCLOPEDIA.

Tonight I learned that: 

♡ There was a dinosaur bigger than a T-Rex called Gigantasaurus.  I did not know that.  I shit you not.

♡We also learned that your heart beeps and the skin keeps all of yoir blood from falling out.

♡We learned that Neptune is the coldest planet but the smarties who wrote the book are not geniuses like my daughter, because they forgot to include the fact that that is where the PENGUINS LIVE. 

DUMBASSES. 😂😂😂
On another note.

Phase 1 of #operationskinnyarse ended today.  For anyone who isn’t interested, have a great Friday and click away now…😚

…but for anyone who is interested, I’ve lost 9lb and 11cm off my waist in 6 weeks.

I’m just delighted with that and that’s all that matters. 🐮

I share simply to show that the determination and stubbornness that I gave my girls can sometimes help me as well as drive me fricken crazy.😂

(And I suppose I should thank The Him 👤 and hims Jim for helping me to get a good start on getting my sass back. Bring on phase 2!)
So to celebrate, I am going to have some bubbles.

They’re full of air which has like, no calories, so it’s grand!

Phase 2 starts tomorrow!
Hope you all have a fab Friday night.  

Feel free to share any exciting plans you might have… I’m off to find where this stink of puke is coming from. IT’S FECKIN HONKIN!
Over and Out! 💖💖💖

I am Some reality Mum

Posted in children, parenting, swear words, tantrums, Uncategorized, wine by

For anyone who complains that Mummy bloggers portray an unrealistic and ideal life… they’re reading the wrong bloggers.

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Mini-Me has upped her Bitch-game this evening. Seriously, there are teenagers with less attitude.
Am trying to remind myself that “a strong-willed daughter will be a strong woman, able for anything the world can throw at her.” Whatever…

Tonight, SHE threw EVERYTHING at me before bed. Tantrums, crying, huffing, puffing and death stares. She threw herself onto her bed, arm across her face, sighing and declaring dramatically “I am just FED UP.” (Looks through elbow to see if she’s getting required reaction.)

I had to leave the room; Part of me laughing at how hilarious she is, part of me DYING a little inside that I saw myself in front of my own eyes. 😳😳😳
Bad Mammy.
Bad, not-doing-anything-right, setting-seriously-bad-examples, fucking-my-child’s-emotional-responses, opposite-of-positive-parenting BAAAAAAD MAMMY.

Deep breaths. Compose oneself. Remember who is in charge…
(Little voice… “She is. She’s in charge you Crazy Woman…”) 😈

I eventually got her settled, read “The Dinosaur that Pooped the Bed” and tucked her in.
Then I came up the hall to THIS MESS.👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

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I don’t even know where to start, and so I’m ranting to you, my lovely S-Mummies 💖, to avoid it…

And to stop myself from pouring a HUMONGOUS grape-juice. 🍷😂

On a BRIGHTER NOTE… 🌞🌞🌞

I almost puked in public today. 😂😂

Week three of #operationskinnyarse began with the most terrifying and dreaded piece of equipment in the gym…
The mat.
I shit you not. It turns out that the most torturous, challenging, hardcore machine in there is my own fricken bodyweight and a mat.
Who knew?

Hope your Monday was equally as wonderful as mine.
Maybe Winnie the Poop was right! 😂

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Over and out…
🛌🛏🛌🛏

#SMum #Mammyblogger #Mummy #MiniMeAndPrincess #glammymammy #meandmygirls #parentblogger #RealStruggles #reallife

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I am Stupid teething Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, swear words, Teething, temperature, Uncategorized by

S-Mum  is VERRRRRY tired.

Princess had her first restless night in ages. Stupid teeth. 😠😠 The wee dote had a raging temperature all night and would have sucked the full tube of bonjella had I let her.  She’s up since 6am and has the dirtiest big red spot on her wee cheek.

It’s now 7am.

She’s on her second dribble bib.

I’m on my second coffee.

Mini-Me was exactly the same when she was teething: temperature, spot, tooth.

In that order.

Every time.

Isn’t it terrible that getting something as simple as teeth can be so bloody sore on them? 😩😩
Meanwhile, The Him is enroute to some foreign county to climb over walls and run around a field full of mud with his buddies from Jim.  They’ll wade through rivers, crawl under electric wires and clamber over obstacles, getting muck in places that muck should NEVER be. I’m not even going to bother cleaning the bathroom today because he’ll be leaking magic muck from his pores for the next week anyway.

In fairness, it’s all for charity and I’m sure they’ll have a ball.💪💪💪
He’ll land home tonight acting as if he’s John Mc-feckin-Clane, having saved the state in Die Hard 19, covered in manly scratches and dirt, flopping onto the sofa and expecting a round of applause and a beer.

And praise indeed he shall get… as long as he arrives home with a Prawn Balti from Chilli Shaker.

If he brings naan bread, I might even run him a bath.

If he brings wine, I’ll cheer and shout “Yippeekayeeey Mother Fucker!” at him every 5 minutes until Wednesday.
But now, I’m off to put a collection of teethers and carrots in the fridge.  Yes carrots.  Have you ever guven a teethung child a big, chilled, peeled carrot to gnaw on? They LOVE IT! Obviously it needs to be thick so their wee gummies cant bite a bit off, but it’s great.  Especially when the tooth is almost through.)

Then I’m going to put on my glittery shoes and go shopping.

Shopping list so far:👇

Calpol.

Neurofen.

Teetha granules.

Bonjela.

Gin…

Have a Sassy Saturdays Bitcheepooooos 😎😎

I am Stuff-that-is-frozen Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, wine by

Today, I did the grocery shopping.
Or as we say here in Donegal, “I got a few messages“.

I had a full 30 minutes in the supermarket, without the babies.
It was thoroughly enjoyable.

It was quiet.

It was, dare I say, relaxing.

Like a holiday in fact.

If I had been allowed to sit in aisle 7 with a glass poured from one of the many bottles of wine that lined it, I may even have been able to get that “holiday feeling” you only get with daytime tipples in the sun.

Obviously,  I didn’t drink wine in the supermarket.
Instead, I bought the “messages” to keep my wee family fed for another few days.

I bought the meat…(sausages and all, despite all the ranting on the radio today about a certain Friday night talk show host…)

I bought the fruit; lots of it since Mini-Me has decided that she only eats “fwoot” now, not dinner.
I bought the vegetables; fresh and frozen.

And then I went to collect my first born from her ballet class.

We were driving home.
“Can we go to Gwanneee’s house for TEN minutes?”

“Yes, but we can only stay for ten minutes because I have frozen stuff in the bags.”

And then she belts out a scream of excitement so loud that she’s either a) seen Santa Claus or b) seen a unicorn.

I almost crash the car, such is the volume of the scream.

“OH…MY…G!!” she gushes with utter dramatics.”I CAN’T BEWEEEEEVE YOU BOUGHT ME FROZEN STUFF. YOU ARE THE BEST MAMMY EVER!”

I’m completely confused.  (This morning I’m pretty certain she told me I was “not my fwend.”)

And then I realise that when I say “frozen stuff”, I think this…

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And when Mini -Me hears “Frozen Stuff”, she thinks this...

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And if you look closely, you’ll see that when I Googled “frozen stuff” to search for images for this blog, Google thinks the same as my 4 year old.

My daughter is obviously a genius.

My daughter and Google are on the same wave length.

My wave length?

I’m still stuck on holidays on aisle 7.

I am Stuff-that-is-frozen Mum❄❄⛄⛄❄❄

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https://m.facebook.com/Secretsofsmum/ ❤❤

I am Soundtrack to her life Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, tantrums, toddlers, wine by

Sing like no one is listening…

Mini-Me has a habit.  It’s an adorable habit.
She sings a constant soundtrack to her life.

When she’s playing alone, she accounts her actions in random song, to random tunes.
“I am playing…into the kitchen. ..with the dolly…who is SLEEEEEEEEEPING!”

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It’s kind of like Will Ferrell as Buddy in Elf.
I love it.
Recently,  I’ve been impressed by her use of rhyme in these songs. 
“Will you have some tea Mary?  Some tea…with me…very!”

As a lover of musical theatre and Disney, you can just imagine how blissfully proud I am of her tendency to sing along to herself. 
So recently, her temper has taken a leap the whole way to Teenager level.  She could actually teach our 17 year old bloke how to throw a strop.
Imagine Chucky and Emily Rose had a baby…
You now know what I’m dealing with.

Yesterday, about ten minutes after a particularly frightening episode over my mistake of putting ham into her ham sandwich, she began her singing.

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I had been watching her, wondering how to deal with my generally sweet child who has found new levels of frustration to deal with, so I listened.

This was the key.  I’d listen to her because obviously she was expressing herself through song, unaware of the fact that she was giving me insight to her mind.  I’d soon figure out what is bothering her and causing the tantrums.
Supermum… feckin genius Woman!
And so.
She sings.

“I wuv my Mammeeee…”
Awwwww. She didn’t 5 minutes ago, but awwwwwww.

“And I wuv my Daddy….”
Bless.  Maybe she misses Daddy.

“Cos he’s a superhero who looks after me…”
Yes, he is. Come to think of it,  it’s almost time for him to come home. Which means I can have a glass of wine…

“And I wuv my baby sisterrrrrrrr”
HAH! See.  It’s not jealousy of the baby.  She loves her.  She just sang it straight from her subconscious. I knew it.

“And I am the best big si-i-i-i-ster in the worold…”
Nice key change there Mini-Me.  And yes, you are.

“And the sun is away behind the mountain….cos it’s nearly bedtime…”
How observant my child?

“And….MAAAAAAMMY!”

I almost fall off the stool.  I was so engrossed in the performance of her life, that I forgot that I wasn’t actually an audience member.
“Yes Sweetie?”

This was it.  Here was the moment where she’d say something profound and enlightening.  I’d suddenly make sense of EVERYTHING.  Psychology 101 eat your heart out…

“MAMMY?!”
“Yes pet?”

“I WANT A PET HIPPO”…

So there.
That was me told.
She sings because she likes to sing.
I need to listen because I like to listen.  Or sing along.  Whatever.

A car pulls up outside.
“There’s Daddy.  Ask him Honey.”
(Reaches for corkscrew…)

I am Soundtrack to her life Mum.
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