Tag Archives: humour

I am Saving the Day Mum

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Mini-Me began to BAWL on the way home this evening.

“What’s the matter Darling?”

“I have vewy bad nooooos Mammy”

“Oh no? What happened?”
(Sobbing…)

“Michael Jackson has DIED!”


(WAAAAAAILS for at least 2 minutes, thankfully so grief-stricken that she doesn’t realise I am in fits of laughter in the front seat. In fairness, with my shoulders dancing as they are, she possibly thinks I am sharing in her devestation.)

What should I say? How do I deal with her grief? When did she begin caring about Michael Jackson?

What does a sensitive, open and emotionally supportive Mammy say to their child in such a situation?

“Cheesy pasta for tea?”

“Oooooh yes please!”

#mammywin #sorted

I am Silent Puker Mum

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How to sleep with a silent puker… 😐

Who the hell am I kidding? There IS NO sleeping with a silent puker.😥😥

Princess makes no noise.
None.
She can empty the 4 stomachs she seems to have inherited from the Granda’s cows, without making so much as a single sound. 😂 It’s shocking.
Not.
a.
Fricken.
SOUND!

And it means that when she is unwell, (which quite frankly seems to be every fecking FORTNIGHT since we went back to school😠), Mammy here gets to spend the night with small person’s foot shoved up her nostril, or her skull on my nose…

The bed is covered in towels, the basin is set on the bedside locker. Of course, she manages to sleep on the only part of the bed that ISN’T covered by towel and if she pukes, I can damn be sure that she’ll hit the ONE part of the bed that hasn’t been protected! 😂

I end up dozing, sitting upright in the bed, constantly ready to jump for the basin. Every sound she makes, every time she turns, every time her breathing changes or pauses… Crazy frog here is wide awake and ready to pounce.

Everytime she gets a tummy bug, I end up booking a session with a physio within a week because my Mammy Bear reflexes are more concerned with keeping her safe (and keeping the fricken bed clean😂!) than minding my dodgy back.

The Him gets banished to the spare room. Not by me.
Hitler-beag doesn’t like sharing beds with anyone but Mammy. She hisses at him like a deranged Gollum determined not to share her “Precious” with anyone.
Poor lucky Fecker… 😐😂😐

He checked us this morning before he went to work. We looked like a right angle apparently. Her leg was across my jaw. I swear to God, there’s times I think that wee Doll would climb back inside me if she could.

So yes. Poor Baby.
And Poor Mammy. (Seriously. Shape of me!)

Night 1: No sound = No sleep.

She’s snoring now…in her own room. I’ve only checked her 23 times since 7.30pm.
And so begins Night 2: the night of “Mammy needs to but can’t sleep becuase she’s going to leap out of the bed and run to her room everytime she moves in the cot”…

What the feck am I like?
Anyone else got a silent puker?

I am Swapping Bacon for Magic Mum

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🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷
Mammies.

I have had a genius idea.

My Princess LOVES Peppa Pork. She loves that fat little pink Piggy to the point that it is becoming quite the obsession. Peppa, or “Peepa” as she calls her, has been on the Tellybox here for 5 and a half and 3/4 years. Mini-Me could take Peppa or leave her. (Come to think of it, she’s still not bothered about bacon.)

And while I don’t mind her having little things that she seems fond of or excited by, Peppa of the Pork is not one that I am overly keen to encourage.

Why?

She’s just a cartoon character after all isn’t she? Well yes. And as a teddy, or on clothing, or in toys I don’t mind her. As little figurines to play with, or in books to point at, she’s fine. And while to adults, it has been suggested that Peppa looks remarkably like a doodle of a phallic nature, to children, her pinkness is apparently aesthetically pleasing and wonderful.

No. It’s not her love for Peppa that bothers me. I’m glad she’s finally showing an interest in something other than food and licking the fridge… It’s the script of the TV show that I have issues with.

Peppa is a brat. Pure and simple. She is cheeky, spoilt and whiney. Boundaries were never created in that house. She answers back, regularly tells Daddy Pig he is fat and is so cheeky to her friends that there is a full episode dedicated to them betting her she can’t stay quiet so they can get some peace.

I’m surprised the other talking animals bother with her at all. She whines and complains and is quite the Negative Nelly. And at no point does Mammy or Daddy rebuke her or tell her what she’s saying is naughty.

She’s a bossy little rasher. Expectant and entitled and don’t even start me on the way she speaks to Mammy.

I’ll wager that Mammy Pig has a secret stash of pink gin hidden behind that computer of hers.

Yes, I know. She’s just a cartoon character, but when she seems to be on repeat in your ear for nearly 6 years, I think it’s quite acceptable to dislike her. And when your children begin mimicking her, then, she becomes quite the pain in the pork.
But last week, I had a brainwave.

After 2 days of my Princess being confined to the sofa feeling under the weather, and 2 days of my brain being FRIED by Peppa referring to Daddy Pig’s big belly and telling poor Gawj “You’re too little”, I could take no more.

I did the “flick” part of the Netflix and came across the best alternative to Peppa Pig, EVER!

Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom.


The animation is identical to Peppa Pig. The narrator/voice structure is similar enough to Peppa to lure an unsuspecting 2 year old in, and the sound track is not quite as irritating…yet. Enough of a difference for her to raise a suspicious eyebrow, but not dramatic enough for her to refuse to watch it.

But the biggest bonus is that the characters are generally NICE to each other. Yes there are mishaps and magic tricks going wrong etc, and Wise Old Elf and Nanny Plum have some serious issues to get over, but in general, it is entertaining.  In fact, I am not afraid to say that Nanny Plum is a legend.   She speaks the truth Mammies. She is fablis.

And there is no whiny, annoying, bold little bad example in it.
So yes, I have finally lost my marbles. I have just written a full post on how Ben and Holly is better than Peppa Pig.

But hey! That’s where we are in our house these days, and they do say you should write what you know, don’t they? I could have written about In the Night Garden, but I’m not quite that barmy yet and I don’t think there’d be enough wine to inspire that…

Which TV shows are/were on repeat in your house?

First published on Donegal Woman in my Thoroughly Modern Mammy column

I am Sixth Sense Mum

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“Mammy. Tell him to STOP!”

“Tell who to stop what?”

“He’s staring at meeeee. Tell him to stop”.

These are not words you want to hear from your 5 and a half and three quarter year old at 7am when there is no one else in the kitchen.

In the 3 seconds it takes me to walk from the utility room, my imagination has delivered me to Destination WCS (Worse case scenrio). I have images of all of my kitchen cupboards having been flung open like in The 6th Sense.  Holy Christ, I think, She’s seeing Dead people…   There is no one else in the room so I know that there is no one to BE staring at her! I take the ten steps to the kitchen, already planning the conversation I’m going to have to have with the priest when I call him to come do an exorcism.

shyamalan16a

“Stop iiiiiit!” she screams.

“Mammy’s here Darling. Who’s staring at you?”

“That cow.”

“What cow?” (WT-actual-F?)

She’s now pointing her little finger accusingly out the window at the cows in the field.

 “Him!  He’s STARING at meeeee. Tell him to stop staring at me.  I can’t eat my Pancakes when he’s watching me.”

The unsuspecting bovine is indeed looking in the window, happily chewing its cud, probably wondering why the little human is screaming at him.

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It moos, probably telling its own Mammy cow “Mammy. Tell her to STOP! She’s staring at me and I can’t eat my regurgitated food wif her watching meeeee!”

Mini-Me is now banging on the window at the cow.

“Maybe you’re scaring the poor cow? Eat your pancakes and stop your nonsense” I laugh, glad I don’t actually have to ring the priest after all.

I’ll save the exorcism for another time, not that I can ever see any poltergeist brave enough or stupid enough to take her on!

How was your day?

I am Stop the Clocks Mum

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It’s that weekend that all parents really wish they’d appreciated more B.C.

Remember when this weekend ACTUALLY meant an extra hour in the leaba?
Remember? No?

Well me neither, but this year, I have a PLAN. 😆🤗

I have cracked it.
I am a Superclever Mum.

Here it is…

Last night, I let the girls stay up 10 minutes later than usual. (7.20pm)
Tonight, I let them stay up 15 minutes later again. (7.35pm)
Tomorrow night, they shall be made, sorry allowed, to stay up until 8pm.
So by Saturday night, going to bed at 8.10pm will feel normal and they should both sleep until 8am, or the new 7am!

In my head, this is genius.
It is fool proof.
I am feckin awesome.
Bow down Bitches.

(In REALITY, they are bigger crankyarses than usual and will most likely STILL be awake at 6am on Saturday morning and the ONLY extra hour MammyTwat here shall ACTUALLY have, is an extra hour of Peppa Feckin Pig on Sunday morning…

But hey! Can’t hurt to try can it? 😂

(The only other feasible option is that Saturday night might be a great night for them to go for a sleepover somewhere… anywhere! 😂😂 )

How do you deal with the clocks changing Ladies?
PS. Happy Thirstay. 😙😙