Tag Archives: mum

I am Sitting in a “Drivethrough” Mum 

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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! 

#mammywin 
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. 

“STRAWBERRY!” 

“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.

Aaaaah. 

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.
Reverse.

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!”
Fuck.

My.

Life.
“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! 😂😂
THAT was TERRIFYING! 
 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

I am She’s hit Poohbeartee Mum

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​Once upon a time there was a Supermum who woke up full of the joys of spring.
“I’m going to go for a quick run before you go to work Darling ” Her said to Him.

Then S-Mum saw the glittery slippery ground outside and so opted for a long shower instead of a quick run.  
S-Mum had a whole 7 luxurious minutes standing under the hot water, as opposed to her usual “step in, quick rinse and step out” routine.  (S-Mum has mastered the art of showering in the length of time it takes Princess to crawl from the kitchen to the bedroom.   It’s a skill I tell you.)   
This morning, S-Mum shampooed her hair not once, but TWICE…AND… she put conditioner in.  And get this? She got to leave the conditioner in for a whole 2 minutes.  She EVEN got to use the scrubby face wash…
And so, S-Mum bounced to the kitchen, full of the joys of spring and determined that today would be a perfectly marvellous day of fun with her two perfectly behaved princesses.  
And then S-Mum remembered that her almost 5 year old Mini-Me is going through “Poohbeartee.”

Poohbeartee is what I have decided to call the phase of utter fucking MAYHEM that is happening in my little darling’s world right now.
She is emotional. She is impatient. She is cranky. She is grumpy. She is impossible and she is unpredictable.  One minute she is laughing, the next she is crying. She reminds me of myself…(you know…once a month..for like, oh, I dunno, about 29 days or so 😂😂.)

  It’s not pretty.

One second she loves me, the next she is declaring that she “has to go live with Granny”.  Yesterday, she spent 20 minutes on top of me BAWLING because “I’m not the perfect daughter!”.  (Note to self. Mulan is banned, the fucking Twit.)
But, today, full of the joys of Spring and invigorated by having had TIME to SMELL the actual SMELL of the smelly shower creams, S-Mum remained optimistic that all would be right with the world and we would have a wonderful day.

And we did, up until about 5pm.


Between 5pm and now, I have lost the spring in my step.

She has screamed.

I have screamed.

 I have tried very hard to “ignore it” and “stay calm”. 

She has slammed doors.

I have pissed her off ROYALLY with such unreasonable requests as “Please eat your dinner” and “Brush your teeth.”
I have said each instruction on average 9 times each. And have realised that regardless of the tone or volume of my voice, she’s decided not to fucking HEAR me, never mind LISTEN to me.
It seems that all I have to do now to cause a complete “Poohbeartescant” strop, is to walk into the same room as her.  

She’s gone to bed declaring me no longer her best fwend because I wouldn’t let her take a glowing red fucking torch to bed with her.  Then she cried for ten minutes because she doesn’t  WANT me to no longer NOT be her best fwend, before telling me that Daddy is reading her a story tonight because I don’t “dweseve one.”
“I love you” I called after her as she gnarled and hissed at me going out the door…
Him puts her to bed and Mammy tidies away the toys, trying not to think about the fact that she is OBVIOUSLY doing EVERYTHING FUCKING WRONG because S-Mum stooopidly thought that Little girls didn’t start to hate their mums until the good old age of 13 or so.


Then, she looks at the “Worry Plaque” she’s bought to “appear” on the wall tonight and says a prayer that it works as well as everyone says it does, so that her little Pooh Bear might learn to relax a bit and Mammy won’t feel so fucking useless and impatient and frustrated.
Fuck me.

I’d try anything at this stage.
Mammy can not win.

Mammy wants a gin. 😍
And then sneaks down to give the Scary one a kiss on the cheek as she sleeps, when she is not quite so terrifying and there is no chance that Mammy’s simple general presence in the room can bring on a row.
The End… until tomorrow. 😐
#pouritnow

I am Say Hello to 2017 Mum

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​2016 was as well behaved as a threenager and as predictable as toddler’s tantrum, but BOY was it feckin FABLIS!
This time last year, I had NO IDEA that the blog would become a daily one, or that so many people would interact.  I never dreamed that it would be so well received or that it’d EVER end up nominated for a national award.  I never imagined the friendships it would bring me… 💖💖💖
Secrets of S-Mum gives me enjoyment and keeps me sane … well, just a little sane.  It’s offered me some savage opportunities this year and as I enter 2017, I’m excited and determined to keep writing. I LOVE that even the shittiest days can make another S-Mum smile. We’re all as batshit-crazy-biscuits as each other! And we Supermums really DO have the power.

  We’re amazing.

 We’re Fablis.  

We’re glitter-farting unicorns. 🦄🦄🦄


I have big plans for my wee blog and as we start a new chapter, I want to thank those Supermums who follow me and comment and share and like and message me.  Your support and reaction not only makes me happy, it makes me want to keep writing.  
So thank you, from the bottom of my glass, for the love and laughs.

And bring on 2017 Bitcheepooooos.
Let’s see where this poonami wave brings us, will we?
But for now, my Minions are asleep after watching last year’s London countdown (she wanted to see where Uncle Binam lives!😅😅), the PJs are on and The Him and I are supping on bubbles.


Have a lovely evening, whatever you’re at Ladybelles.
See you on the other side.
Much love,💋💋💋
The S-Mum and The Him

😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚

I am Some rules I’d make Mum 😅

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​If I were Queen of the whole world (as opposed ro my own little corner), there are a few things I would change about Christmas…
1. Christmas on a weekend is a bit shit.  Why? Because for so many, it will come and go just like an ordinary bank holiday weekend.  Christmas needs to be on a Wednesday or some other such midweekday so that both the before and after working weeks are ridiculously short allowing everyone to get excited and bouncy and Christmassy from the Sunday before because it’s only a 2 day week and then it’s holiday time!

Because it’s a Sunday, we’re all trudging along this week asking “Are we there yet?” Most people will finish work on Friday evening and suddenly fricken Christmas Eve will be upon us faster than a baby’s poonami hits a clean nappy.
2. Only good drivers should be allowed on the road from the 21st until the 24th.  Because Christmas Eve this year is suddenly “Saturdayed”, the last minute panic (and for some, ALL their shopping) will have to be done on Saturday.  This would not be a huge problem if everyone knew how to DRIVE.  The town will inevitably stand still with non-moving cars and the special Dumbasses who the Grinch or some other Gremlin sends down from Dumbass Land, and who ONLY come out to drive on Christmas Eve and who test the patience of EVERYONE else by not using INDICATORS or knowing what a fucking YELLOW BOX is.  They are not even real people.  I think they’re like Matrix people who we can all SEE blocking the roundabout or taking 2 hours to reverse their corsa into two spaces, but they’re not ACTUALLY real… they can’t be.  That level of Dumbass doesn’t exist does it?


3. The shops should all close at 3pm on Christmas Eve.  Why? So that the creturs working in them get to GO HOME to their families of course! Be nice to retailers Ladybelles.  You might be stressed, but they’re still working. When I am queen, the whole world shall shut down early and Christmas shall be forced to begin at a decent hour.
4. Anyone who parks in a disabled spot or a parent spot without good reason or genuine need, should be zapped by a glitterfying lazer and beamed to a 1980s Tellybox set like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where they shall have to stay until Boxing Day.  Better still, their CAR shoould be zapped away from them as they lock it so they can see just how fucking difficult it is to suddenly have an unnecessarily long distance to navigate a wheelchair or crutches or 3 screaming kids and 10 bags, just because they think they’re more special than the rest of the world.  Pricks. (Note…this applies all year round. 🤐)
5. Children and Hims should not be allowed to get sick before or during Christmas.  It’s hugely unfair on the Mamma Bears who are already trying to fit ALL THE EVERYTHING into their lunchbreaks and do the full grocery shopping in 8 minutes flat enroute to the school gate.  It is highly inconvenient and terribly upsetting when your minions suddenly feel poop at this time.  Of course it could always be worse… especially if your Him decides to do his annual Nutcracker rendition and act out the part of the useless and slightly tragic wooden soldier who needs something fucking magical to instill life and joy into his bones again.  Of course I’m not referring to my own Him here.  😇He is a Braveheartesque soldier at all times😲😲 and never succumbs to manflu or calls for his Mammy when his Her tells him to “man the fuck up.”
6. Cars will have a secret “other” boot.  This will stop the drama of “How the feck will I get the stuff that isn’t really there and can never be seen by little eyes into the house before they decide to open the boot to throw their schoolbags in?” Such a debachle!
7. All Mammies will be allowed to drink tea or grapes or gin as early as they like from the 20th.  Sorry…the 19th 😂😂 until at LEAST January 3rd.  This shall be law.

Oh and everyone shall smile always, and wear big hats (which will ALL be made XL to fit humongously craniumed wenches like S-Mum) and we shall all be lovely to each other and sparkle like glittery unicorns because tis the fricken season and all that.
How was your day?

Are we there yet? 🎄🎅🦄🎄🍷🎅🎄🦄🍷🎅🎄❄⛄🎄🎅🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

​I am Slippy Feet Mum

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Well it’s officially Christmas.  


Jack Frost arrived this morning, the mischievous little fecker, and forced me to have to nearly break in to my own car.  He also forced half of Donegal to reduce their speed, which of course is never a bad thing, unless you reduce it from 100 to approximately 54km/hr on the very LARGE, STRAIGHT and very SALTED road into Letterkenny and hold up all of the rush hour traffic.  
In that case, you’re simply a twatsickle.   
But I digress.
I love Jack-of-the-frost, I do.  

I love the chilled air.  I love seeing breath clouds. I love the glitter. 
I loved seeing the clouds sitting ON the Swilly this morning.  I particularly loved Mini-Me’s expression when she saw this sight and exclaimed “Mammy! The Cwouds are touching the waaaater!”

Cutiepie. 
I was very organised this morning…completely prepared for the frozen car and slippery steps and extra time needed to get down off S-Mumble Hill.  
I’d love to say it’s because I’m Supermum and that it was my maternal instinct that told me, through osmosis obviously, that it would be a frozen morning, or indeed that, like Yeats, somone as infamous as Homer…ormin my case Jack Frost… “came whispering to my mind” warning me to jump out of bed and be a Winter Wondermum…
But in reality it was a text from The Him at 5.45am which read “ROADS SHITE GORGEOUS. BLACK ICE. DON’T BE RUNNING LATE. I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK…XXXXXX”  (No you CAN’T prove that I’ve edited this or exaggerated the content of the text, so there! That’s what Him typed…honest like.)😂
And so I wrapped Princess up like  the fat little spanx-wearing Christmas pudding that she is, got Mini-Me into her new fingered gloves – (that’s another post ALTOGETHER! 😠😠) – and carried them both down the very slippery steps to the car, which I’d EVEN managed to have running for 5 minutes so I wasn’t putting the kids in a fridge.

I am a LION…HEAR ME ROAR! 🦁
Sorted.
I dropped Princess off and headed to drop Mini-Me to the bus. (at 54km remember?)
I was so proud of myself and already planning the accomplished and smug text to The Him when I reached school saying that I was early and that of course I loved him more etc., 😈😅and then as I drove into the carpark, I realised something.
I realised that I had CARRIED Mini-Me out of the house and set her safely into the car.
And then it dawned on me that I, or Himself, have probably ALWAYS carried her in and out of places if it was icy.

And so now, I was dropping her off to get OUT of the car, where she’d  have to WALK BY HERSELF TO the bus, which someone ELSE was driving,

And THEN she’d have to get OFF the fecking bus in a slippery playground and make her wasy to the door ACROSS the playground…
ALL.

BY.

HERSELF.
And my Blood chilled as if Jack-of-the-frost himself had kissed my chapped lips…
I stopped the car and actually had to take a few deep breaths.

How ridiculous am I? 
“This is NOT A BIG DEAL you Silly Woman!” said Mammy’s inside voice.

“Cop yourself on Woman” laughed Mrs Anxiety.

“But what if she falls?” answered Super-bubblewrap Mum.
My gut was telling me to ring work to announce that I had an emergency and that I’d be half an hour late so I could drive her ther myself.

Of course I COULDN’T let someone else drive a bus with my Precious (if sometimes terrifying) Minion on it… 

THAT would be NUTS would it not?
You’ll be glad to know that Common Sense slapped me across the face, because obviously, Mammy being MENTAL and CARRYING HER to the door of the school would be MUCH more embarrassing and have life long repercussions compared to her slipping on the ice and bumping onto the ground.
So I reminded her that said ground was REALLY SLIPPY and that the school yard would be EXTRA slippy and that she’d have to take small steps and walk slowly.  I made sure the gloves were still on so that at least if she DID fall,  it wouldn’t be too sore on her wee hands.  And then I walked beside her to the door and quite literally let her find her feet.
And she did.

She slipped a few times, and then like a little Bambi, found her balance before looking up at me and announcing “I’m just like Elsa Mammy.”


I nearly pushed her across a puddle just to see if she’d land like Elsa too, but I though better of it.
Here I was stressing the feck out about HER and she’s off being a Disney fucking princess in her own head.

STORY OF MY LIFE! 💗😂💗😂💗

(She sooooo gets that fromThe Him obviously.)
Hope you all had a Marvellous Monday xxxxx