Tag Archives: kids

I am Some of Their Current Tricks Mum

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

girls

Do your little minions keep you on your toes?

Mine do.  So much so that I might as well dance around in ballet pumps, never mind walking.

While they try to keep me on my toes, half the time I’m actually walking around bare-footed…on lego.  I think I’ve sussed them.  I think I know them and their tricks. And then they remind me that actually, I have not a clue what I am doing and that I am most certainly NOT in charge in our little home.

Here are the top 5 ways that Mini-Me and Princess are keeping me “dancing” at the minute.  But sure hey, who wants boring well-behaved kids eh?

  1. Silence is… dangerous. Especially if there is more than one minion in your charge. Do not be fooled into thinking that they are playing quietly.  If they are quiet, they’re hoping you won’t catch or see them doing what they know they are not supposed to be doing.

 

2. Hiding is the best fun ever!  Especially when they hide behind their fat wee hands, right in front of you and genuinely believe that you can’t see them.  However, as they get bigger, hiding becomes a skill. And it becomes quite the pain in the posterier…especially if they decide to play “hiding” just as you are trying to leave the house. Princess is unbelievable at it.  She runs down the hall shouting “I Hideeeeeeen”.  Her favourites are in the bottom of a wardrobe, happily still in the dark, or standing like a statue behind a curtain.  Nightmare.  The only way I can find her in a hurry is to make her giggle.  (Mammy on the other hand can not hide.  ANYWHERE. Don’t waste your time trying.  They will find you.)

3. Clean nappies are best for pooing in. Especially when you’re just about to leave the house. Again, if a clean nappy is combined with silence and hiding, you’re getting a hat-trick Mammy.

4. If Mammy cooks it, they will not eat it.  If Granny, Aunty, Uncle, Childminder, Binman cooks it, they shall eat it.  Also, if, like me you have a child who doesn’t eat a particular food (still no go on the chucken), be warned that they WILL eat it EVERYWHERE ELSE.  Just to keep you look deranged and mad when you tell people they don’t like a certain food.

5. Crying is reserved for Mammy. A child can bump her knee at 10am and be brave. When you arrive at 5pm, they will cry about it.  A child can be as good as gold all day.  Once you enter another house or indeed, once someone else walks into your house, they will begin to act like demonic dictators just to remind you that they are indeed the Boss of the whole wide world. And to maintain your outside-the-house-persona as the Mammy-who-is-always-scolding.

mygirls

Otherwise, all is perfect and all is right with the world. I hope you all got lots of eggs and that the little faces are covered in chocolate.  Bring on the sugar rush and crashes this evening eh?  And don’t forget to put some egg in the fridge to have when they go to bed tonight! Goes well with grapes they tell me. 🙂

What is your little one’s trick of the month?

I am Sweet Jebus, What Did She See Mum?

Posted in children, Uncategorized by

“Mammy I wrote you a note.”

“Did you Darling?”

“Yes.  I wrote it the other night when I couldn’t get to sleep and I forgotted to give it to you.”

“Ok. What does it say?”

“It says My Mammy and Daddy were very happy doing the rumpy.”

(WTF? WTF? WTF?)

“Erm. Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay?”

(Inside I am thinking FAAAAAAAAACK. What has she seen? What have we done? Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod… I have scarred my child for life. What…when…how…WHEN?)

Outside, I TRY to remain calm and composed…

“What is Doing the Rumpy Darling?” (Tread carefully Mammy.)

“No.  DURING the Rumpy.”

(Sweet Japonica on a big bike, shoot me now…)

“And what is Rumpy?”

“That game you were watching…”

(Now I’m utterly lost.)

“What game?”

“When Ireland WON the match with the funny ball.”

“OH!”  (Joy and rapture and Thank the frivoulous fecks!)  THE  RUGBY?!

“Yes,  The Rumpy.  Remember you and Daddy were all excited and jumping up and down and smiling?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”  (Hallelujah!)

Yes we were Darling. Yes we were.  Right there in the middle of the kitchen, in broad daylight…and not a door locked or anything!

Phew…

rugby

 

I am Salou, Here we Come Mum

Posted in reviews, Uncategorized by

So anyone who has been reading my ramblings for a while now, knows that I have not yet been brave enough to venture into the great unknown and unpredictable world of holidaying abroad…with the girls.

In fact, I last year wrote a few posts on how and why staycation-ing was the only option for myself and my wee squad.

And yet, this year, I have decided to go for it. Why?

Maybe it’s an unqualified confidence in the fact that Princess is no longer technically a Baby and so we’ll be graaaaaaaaaaand.  Maybe it’s that I looked at my sister’s family holiday snaps and some hidden longing for family-fun in the sun took over.  Maybe I’m just getting brave in my old age.  Maybe I’m off my head.

But regardless of why I’ve finally decided to jump head first into the blue azure of sunkissed and suncreamed frolicking, I have.  And I have ACTUALLY convinced The Him that it’s a good idea.

Now.  I am one of those Book-it-all-by-myself-online gals usually.  However, because taking the two girls away is such new territory to us, we decided to do the safe and sensible thing and went through a travel agent.

Atlantic-Travel

So off I popped to Atlantic Travel here in Letterkenny.  I arrived in with NOT flexible dates, a strict budget and 324 specific requirements and 127 questions.

“Hi.  I am your WORST nightmare Lovely Travel Agent…I want to go somewhere hot but not too busy, with a flight that isn’t too long, with as short as possible a transfer on the other end, to a 2 roomed apartment in a family suitable resort, with indoor options for soft play, a children’s pool area, a kids’ club that is safe and reputable, in an area which isn’t too loud but still with some atmosphere… And the quiet and safe area must have some nice restaurants, a supermarket nearby AND be near public transport. ON THIS EXACT DATE.  Out of Belfast if possible… Please.”

Yeah, so they could have laughed and scoffed at me and my demands, but they didn’t. Within 20 minutes, the amazing Donna had 5 options printed off for me for all types of holiday in a few different places, within my date, budget and ridiculous specifications. No bother at all.

She was able to offer her own opinion on 3 of the resorts and had customer testimonies on the others. She was very open and honest with her advice about the options.  There was no pressure or obligation to book.  Just polite service with educated opinion.

I took some brochures, the printouts and her email address and off I went to peruse my options.

salou2

Salou it is so.

Being me, I had to research some more and in doing so, found another hotel on the TUI website that ticked all of my boxes. A few emails to Evelyn with more “Ria” questions and prompt answers were exchanged over the course of the next three days and when I finally made up my mind, one phonecall booked the holiday.

Within a few days, all of our details had been posted to us.

I really feel more comfortable going away for the first time with the kids as we have booked a package and so everything is thought of for us; Flights, Transfers, Insurance, Accommodation and Board. The fact that there will be a Holiday Rep there is also putting my mind at ease.

Now all I have to do is look forward to it. And pack for everyone. And plan.  And save. And worry and get there…

holiday

They say that the first step is always the hardest, but for this family holiday newbie, the first step was probably the easiest thanks to the ladies in Atlantic Travel.

Check out Atlantic Travel on  Facebook for more updates before the big event:

Call (074) 912 6193 or visit Atlantic Travel’s offices at Oliver Plunkett Road, Letterkenny to enquire about your holiday.

atlantic-02-Copy-1170x927

 

 

Mammy has collaborated with Atlantic Travel but as always, my review and opinions are my own and honest.

I am Screen Time Dinner Mum

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

“Tut tut. Look at those parents using their phones to distract their child. Tut tut.
Lazy young parents of today. Not able to handle their kiddies in public. Whatever happened to conversation at dinner? Tut tut. In my day… yadda yadda fucking yadda.”

Now. Mammy did not HEAR the actual shpeel of verbal diahorrea that was ACTUALLY coming out of the older couple’s tight-set mouths, but the looks and disapproving glances at our table (and the table beside us might I add) when The Him stuck an episode of “Ben & Bolly” on his phone were more than enough to tell us what they were thinking.😡

Now. I am not one who condones screentime at the table, either at home or in public. And actually, our 6 year old does NOT get to look at a screen when we’re eating. Not a hope… but the twoublemaker? Absofeckinglutely. 😂

The couple Saw a snippet of our day. They saw the 9 minutes where Mammy’s lovely dinner had gone cold as she’d spent her time ensuring that Princess did not launch her plate at Mini-Me’s head or SPILL the glasses of milk all over our dinner.

They DIDN’T see the 2 hours of the girls playing at their Doll’s house and in their bedrooms this morning.

They DIDN’T see the 3 hours of fresh air and exercise in Glenveagh.

They DIDN’T see the 45 minutes of colouring in and general chatter as we waited to order and eat.

What they SAW was the “We need to distract the minion for a few minutes to allow Mammy to finish her food and Daddy to order a coffee trick” that most parents turn to as a last fecking resort when their Knackered child has reached their quota of sitting and behaving like a good little girl.

I’m sure they meant no harm. I’m sure they’re lovely. I’m sure they would never have allowed it. Whatever.

Did it bother me? Eh…no! 😂 But I’m pretty sure it might have bothered another Mammy. This Bad Mammy Wagon seriously considered letting her watch another 3 episodes so I could order another glass of grapes. 😂 I didn’t. Cos see, that WOULD MAYBE have been cause for the tutters to tut.

I finished my Yummy dinner. We drank our coffee and we turned off the EBSD. (ElectronicBabysittingdevice)

Then we drove our fed, watered and quite relaxed wee family home.

And we didn’t give a tut what the tutters thunked. They didn’t see the full movie you see. They only saw the blooper reel. So really, their review doesn’t matter, does it?

Now.
A glass of grapes on a Sunday night? How very dare I!? Yay!

Happy Bank Holiday Sunday Bitcheepoos.

Any fun for me?
Mammy x

I am Screw-top Lid Mum

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

Is there anything more frustrating than jars?

You know jars?

With Screw top lids?
“Oh, S-Mum, you are being ridonkulous and melodramaria now.  HOW can you be frustrated by a jam jar, you silly woman?” I hear you scoff.
And usually, I would agree, but tonight, if YOU had witnessed the EPIC meltdown offered by my Princess because S-Mum here couldn’t get a FECKING JAR OPEN, you would not be scoffing.  You would be popping to the shop to buy me grapes.

And chocolate.

jam
“You want toast Princess of mine?”

“Mmmmhmmmm” she nods.

“Mammy get you toast now.”

“Mmmmmhmmmmmm” she says, wobbling her fat little arse to the fridge, where she stands grunting at it and at me until I open it.

“Will we get out the butter, my cherished cherub?”

“Mmmmmhmmmmmmm” she nods, reacing for the jar of jam from the fridge door.

“You want jam on your toast?”

“BAAAAAAAAM!” she squeals, dancing her happy nappy dance…

“Mammy get you jam surely pet.”
Except she won’t.

NO,

Because this Jam jar has not yet been opened and it seems that its lid has been welded to the jar by trolls, using their extra special concrete mix, which is completely unmoving regardless of how much you twist, or turn, or grunt or swear.
Mammy was certain of ONE thing after a few minutes.
Mammy was NOT getting the lid of the blasted jar. 😭😭
Nope.
Now, let it be known, that I am a stubborn sort of Ladybelle.  I am not beyond smashing a jar (or bottle) with a hammer to get at the contents, but considering that Princess was SCREAMING “BAAAAAAAAAAAM” at me, whilst swinging off my legs, and considering that smashing things would NOT be best parenting practise, I opted to control my temper and distract her.
I was unsuccessful.

She screamed for approximately 13 minutes, before instantly calming herself down when she heard the opening notes of In the Shite Garden and toddling over to chat to Macka Feckin Packa, leaving Mammy a sweaty, traumatised mess in the kitchen.
Did I threaten to hurt the Jam Jar?  Did I promise to smash the fecker off the back step after she’d gone to bed?

Of course not.  That would be mental…
It is sitting on the counter awaiting The Him and his Manliful Muscles to come home.  He’ll pick it up, twist it like a milk bottle and tut at me for being such a girl.

OR.

He too shall struggle with the fecking thing and I will regain a molecule of my sanity, laughing at him.
Fecking BAAAAM…

It HAS to be Grape o’clock already no?

How was your day?