I am So THAT’s my Baby Mum!

​Every day, I get to know my minions better.
I am waiting patiently to understand them.  I may wait on by the look of things.
Mini-Me ADORED these books πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡ when she was younger.  We have most of them, still perfect condition, despite having been read 12 times a day for about 18 months.


Today, I learned something about her…

She is a gentle little lady, who despite having the temper of her mother and the patience of…well, her mother, is quite the delicate flower who looks after her stuff quite well.  
Especially books.
How did I learn this? 

WELL, I found this book today and decided to introduce Princess to our tradition.

And within 5 minutes, the pristine and perfect book looked like THIS. πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡


Mini-Me used to turn the pages gently and point sweetly at the “wee mouse” and cheep at the “wee birdies”.  She’d tentatively touch the sensory sections and her mind would flourish poetically and grow beautifully before my very eyes… πŸ’–πŸ’–
Princess ripped the fecking book in bits… like the Hulk that she is…and banged it REPEATEDLY off the floor until she managed to bust the binding.  

5 minutes.

Rambo.
However, never one to dwell on the negative I have decided to perceive her reaction that she TOO was developing her sensory skills.  Her taste for reading can not be disputed either as she has tried many times to EAT the fecking book.  Not only do these books nourish the mind, they are great teethers too apparently.
And so there you go.  These little books do not ONLY educate and encourage and stimulate the minds of our minions, they can also teach Mammies the differences in the personalities of her two little darlings. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

I am Screaming Leaving Granny Mum

​It is sooooo  Grapejuice o’clock on this wonderfully unfeckeuped feck-it-up Friday.
I was doing well you know…
I was doing SO well that I smugly thought I’d get through a full day without shouting or scolding or being a generally horrible Hell-Beast to my little angel.
 I nearly did it…
And THEN she pulled her usual stunt in “Gwanny’s” that leaves HER in dramatic floods of tears, ME ready for the Nut house and my poor Mother torn between remembering what it was like to be mortified in front of HER Mother, and wanting to steal the Demonchild from me and to raise her in the non-shouting, calm and much more cushioned safety of Granny’s house.
Imagine a Disney Fucking princess as she is dragged, sobbing, from her Prince, hand outstretched and a sad and melancholic expression on her tear stained face, mouthing the name of her lost one, in slow motion of course…
Imagine the child in The Railway Children or such orphanesque tale, watching their only relative as the train pulls away from the platform, knowing that they’ll never see them again…
Imagine the scene in The Hunger Games where Catniss is about to be catapulted up into the Arena and the baddies attack her BFF right before her eyes.

There’s nothing she can do.
She is helpless.

It is terrible.
Now imagine the Gobshite who is causing the drama.  

That would be me.  πŸ˜­
And poor Granny is witness to the atrocities.  She wants to scoop the little angel into her arms and hush her and sooth her and tell her it’ll be OK and that OF COURSE she doesn’t HAVE to go home with Mean old Mammy and OF COURSE she can stay with Granny for ever and ever and ever and ever cause Granny will NEVER get cross like mean old Mammy.
She wants to.
But of course she doesn’t. 
She helps poor, mental, wits-end Woman put the obviously  abused, unloved and despairing child in the car, telling her she’ll see her tomorrow and to be a good girl for Mammy.  It breaks her heart no doubt.  
The girlchild is so convincing that a little part of ANY witnessing adult would possibly consider ringing fucking Childline to report Cruel, Uncaring, Crazy Mammy.

But.

Granny has been here before.

Granny has been on the other side of it.  

(Obviously with much less dramatic daughters, given the three angelic girlchildren she raised…πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜œπŸ˜œ)

Ans as much as Granny does indeed want to save her little girl from the Scary One for a night…she also knows that her little girl HAS to take the scary one home! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚
This scene pretty much kills both of the grown ups, but they BOTH know that by the time Madam TurboTwat gets to her own house, (a whole 76 yards away), she’ll have completely forgotten the dramatic ordeal which evil Mammy has just subjected her to by asking her to put on her fucking boots to go home. 
The 90 second drive home will be sufficient for her to completely FORGET her violent and impressively fucking MENTAL protest in Granny’s street.  She shall wipe her tears away, skip in the door and ask “Is scooby Doo on?” before demanding a “cuppa mulk pwease” and then informing Mammy that she is her “best wee mammy” as she is handed said cuppa fecking milk.
And Mammy will stand at the door, watching her in disbelief, completely fooked and wishing that there was some time machine that would whizz her forward half an hour so she could sit on her arse and recover her sanity with some grapes.
Cheers Dollies.

🍷🍷🍷

#callthemammypolice #notathingwrongwithher #fml

I am Snapping before bedtime Mum

​Today is Chooseday.

Today, I choose the word YES.
Pre bedtime chaos shot. πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡


Yes, they are too close to the tellybox.

Yes, I know it’s not good for their eyes.

Yes, they’re watching reruns of Scoobyfuckingdoo,πŸ• with Velma and Daphne and the other weird-eye-animated unaging and omni-teenage detectives and their big thick plank dog🐢 chasing yet another fucking zombie in disguise.

Yes, it will possibly give herself nightmares.(Princess, not so much, given that the zombies would run AWAY from Crazy little her.πŸ˜‚)

Yes, I know they shouldn’t be encouraged to watch Tellyboxes or any other evil screen (or as I like to call them Mammy’s sanity savers) so late at night… tut…

Yes, I know I’ve probably just ruuned my chances of winning “Mammy of the year.” πŸ˜‚

Yes, I give NOT ONE continental fuck what the “No way. Bad S-Mum. My kids would NEVER get screen time” Sanctimammies think. (Do you think they binge watch Scoobydoo in their cupboards while the kids play scrabble and suduko and stuff?) 😈😈
Yes, Princess is sitting inside a box..πŸ‘‡πŸ˜‚

Yes, she got in there all by herself.

Yes, she could have sat in the cool pink princess size chair.

Yes, she could have squished herself into the slightly bigger box

Yes, she got stuck.

Yes, of course I left down the mug and lifted her out.😜

Yes, she climbed right back in.
Yes Mammy was drinking coffee at 6.30pm and we all know that one should not drink the magic beans so late in the day, but let me put it to you like this.
It was too early for grapejuice…🍷
Yes, Mammy is knackered.

Yes, the kitchen is a mess.

Yes, I still have to cook dinner.

Yes, Princess still needs a bath and so without the magic beans, Mammy wouldn’t have actually been awake enoigh to wash the slabber covered salty little fudgemonster.

Yes, I’ll probably be up all fucking night doing “to do ” lists in my head.

Yes, I’ll regret it at 1am.

Yes, The Him will want to kill me when I wake him up at 2am to ask him if he thinks we should wallpaper the living room.

Yes, I’m clever. The Him will agree to an indoor pool and special “Mammy grape cupboard” with a comfy chair and everything, if it will shut me up at 2am.

Yes, I am a genius 😈😜 and yes, the coffee worked and so I functioned enough to wash Princess and put the two little terrors to bed.

And now, I have JUST ABOUT enough energy to ACTUALLY tidy the kitchen and cook Him some dinner.☹
So now…what do you think?

Is it time for a little glass of grapes to reward Mammy for being such a feckin legendary Goddess?
The word you’re looking for, is YES!
How was your Chooseday?😘😘

I am She’s Deadly Mum

Oh it’s been a deadly week.

Or even Deathly…☹☹☹
☹Monday:☹
“Mammy why do people die?”

 (Fuckitty fuck…)

“Erm, they just do Darling.” (Yes… Even as I say it, I know THAT is not an answer and I need to follow it with something else.)  “Sometimes people’s bodies stop working and they die Darling.” 

(Not bad for off the top of my head as I navigate merging in the town’s spaghetti lanes of the one-way system that was possibly designed by a party of drunk monkeys.)

“But why? Why does they die?”

(Fuckitty fuckitty fuck…)

“Because that’s how it is pet.  Sometimes people get old or sick or something happens so they go to sleep for a very long time.”

(Silence.)

“And where do they go?”

(Christ on a stick. I’m so not ready for this. Note to self, find out who has been talking to her about dying.)

“Erm, they leave here and go to Heaven and then they can help look after us.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww yeah yeah yeah. Like Granda Pops?”

“Yes Darling.” (I love that she remembers my Pops.πŸ’™πŸ’™πŸ’™)

“Aaaaaawwwwww yeah,  and like The Dinosaurs? They disappeared too you know?”

(Well that sentiment was nice while it lasted I suppose.πŸ˜‚)

“Do you wanna listen to Frozen?”

“YAAAAAAAAAAY…LET IT GOOOOOOO!” 

Phew.
☹Tuesday:☹
“What happens when EVERYONE in da whole world DIES?”

“That won’t happen Honey.”

“How do YOU know?” (It’s started already. My word is no longer gospel.)

“Because people will always grow up and have babies and then those babies will grow up and have more  babies.” (Unless Children of Men happens, in which case, we’re fooked.πŸ˜‚)

But why come the dinosaurs stopped having babies and all went to Heaven? What if dat happens us? ” 

(Feck you Andy of the Adventuuuuuuures.)

“It won’t Sweetheart. Will we listen to Frozen?”

“Yaaaaaay!”

Etc…
☹Wednesday:☹
“Gwanny are you old?”

“Well I suppose I’m a BIT old.”

“Dat means it’s nearly your turn to DIE YOU KNOW.”

Poor Gwanny. πŸ˜…πŸ˜…πŸ˜…
☹Thursday:☹
Silence between school gate and car.

Sad face, shaky lower lip and one single tear.

“What’s up Darling?”

“Hemenahemena’s cousin died?”

(Oh fuckitty fuck fuck.  One of the kids must have had a death in the family…)

“Who’s cousin pet?”

Sobbing now…

“PRINCESS POPPY’S COUSIN!  Branch is DIED.”

(Oh you have GOT to be shitting me…)

“Branch from Trolls? How did he die? Sure he’s still in the movie, perfectly safe…”

“No. He got knocked down outside dacimena (the cinema) last night and he dieded!”

(FML)

“Ah pet. It’s ok.” I let her cry for a few minutes and then put on Frozen which eventually distracted her.

Then we got home and she opened her schoolbag and produces this. πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡

The image apparently includes:

🀐 Princess Poppy

🀐 Branch lying dead outside Dacimena☹

🀐 A scrapbook which Poppy is not allowed to scrap in anymore because Branch is dead (note the x through it.)

🀐 a sad face with tears falling out (see close-up) πŸ˜‚

🀐 a broken heart… literally… a heart with a crack on it.

I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or disturbed.  
☹☹☹Today’s obituaries:☹☹☹

“The death has taken place as the result of an accident outside the Dacimena of Mr Branch Troll. He is survived by Princess Fuckin Poppy Troll and a gang of big grumpy Berkins.  Removal from Dreamworks-in-the-tellybox, to repose in the imagination of Miss Mini-Me, with the fricken dinosaurs. Wake is private please as theres no actual fecking way to visit the remains of an imaginary dead troll os there? And internment will take place at some random point in the future when she remembers that hims dieded or when she decides to become obsessed by a different movie. No flowers please.  Donations in lieu to Mammy’s grapejuice fund.”

Pour.🍷

Now. 

πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

I am Stupid Christmas Cards Mum

​Oh it’s time for Grapes…
Tonight, S-Mum did something really stupid…

Like, REEEEEEALLY fecking stupid!
“Would you like to write your Christmas Cards Mini-Me Dearest?”
I bought the cute little packet of cards weeks ago, thinking it would be so cute to let her write the cute little cards and give them to her cute little frineds.  And the first few cards were indeed cute.
After No. 4, she got bored.
By No.6, her writing had gone from “impressive” to “WTF?” 
By No.9., she’d decided she no longer needed the word “from”.
No.10 required 3 attempts because she feel out with the letter K and defaced each card in utter frustration.
Trying to write her teacher’s full name caused utter MELTDOWN at No.11 as it wouldn’t fit on the card width and so she now has the last 3 letters vertically down the side… (My eyes are bleeding… but there was more chance of Santa leaving Mammy a Chanel Handbag than there was starting THAT again!)
We eventually made it to No. 20something and she is now away to bed, only DELIGHTED with herself. πŸ˜…The cards are packed in her bag, ready for her to forget to give out tomorrow…
Mammy learned a few things also.😈

These are:
1. I don’t know how to spell some names.

2. Some Mums may be offended at how I think their Minion’s name is actually written.

3. I know we have forgotten at least 6 names, given that there are not the same number of cards as kids in her class, but I am not psychic, nor do I remember names anyway, so I don’t really know how to get around that one.

4. The handwriting genius that I smugly THOUGHT I had here, is NOT ACTUALLY a Handwriting Genius.  In fact, as I opened some of the cards from her classmates this past week, my inner Soccer Mom was beginning to bubble and boil in a fucked up combination of jealousy and annoyance… “Why is her writing so neat? This one looks like one of my 5th years wrote it? Wtf is wrong with my Mini-Me?” Her lovely, and I thought accomplished, scrawl that I’ve proudly shown to Grannies and Aunties and anyone else who stands in front of me, in some cases looks like the signature of a shitfaced orangutan beside the BEAUTIFUL script of Miss Annabelle* or Master Simon*…(obviously I’m changing the names here!πŸ˜‚)

5. I need to work on her handwriting.

6. I should really get a list of the class names from somewhere.

7. Some children have better handwriting than my daughter.

8. But I bet their Mums spent 3 weeks drafting and redrafting their cards with them.

9. Or maybe, the mums actually WROTE the cards, just making them look a bit messy ajd childlike to pass them off as the handwriting of their minion to make other Mums like me freak the fuck out.

10. It’s time for wine. 🍷🍷


How was your Chooseday?

Did you choose red or white? 😚😚😚