Mammy needs your help Lovelies!

Ok Ladybelles.

It’s that time of year again when I ask you all to help me out.

The S-Mum Blog is in the running for “Maternity and Infant’s Best Parenting Blog Award” again this year.

Last year I made it (thanks to you lot) to the TOP TEN and I got to meet some of the loveliest people ever. ๐Ÿ˜

With last year’s finalists in Dublin


And so I ask that if you like my blog and my posts and the general nonsense that I spout; if I make you laugh, or sob a little, or just feel a bit normal; please please please take two seconds to hit the link and throw me a wee vote.

You can VOTE HERE. (No registration or nonsense required!)

If you don’t like it, then I wonder why you’ve read this far, and I’ll still ask you to vote. Sure why not? ๐Ÿ˜‹

The competition is FIERCE this year, but I know that my lovely readers will help me out. ๐Ÿ˜

It’d be great to get a wee Donegal Mammy to the final again! You’re an incredible bunch and I do appreciate every like and heart and comment, so I truly would love you all even more if you could give me a click. ๐Ÿ˜‹

You can do it here…

And if you might be happy to share this for me, I’ll love you forever.

Thanks gals,
Mammy x

โ€‹The Him ๐Ÿ‘ค has childproofed the kitchen.
Isn’t Him clever?
Princess can no longer pull open the cupboards or potentially hurt her little self with dangerous kitcheny things.๐Ÿ’–
Princess is intelligent but not so intelligent that she can figure out the clever clips from Clevamamma.

Princess is a little bit safer now.๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜
So is Mammy.
Mammy too is a little bit safer now.๐Ÿ˜
Because Mammy is not quite intelligent enough to figure out the bloody clips either and so now Mammy also can no longer open ANY of the kitchen cupboards.
Mammy is only able to open the one cupboard that The Him left Clevasafe clip free, but that cupboard is full of tupperware and lunchboxes and other useless, but safe-for-her-to-play-with crap, that Mammy really COULD dump because she NEVER uses anyway.
So today, because Mammy’s kitschen is now babyproofed AND Mammyproofed, everyone will be eating the VERY limited contents of the FRIDGE and they’ll be eating out of tupperware and lunchboxes! ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚

I am Suspicious smell Mum


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.  ๐Ÿ˜ช๐Ÿ˜ช๐Ÿ˜ช
 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.  ๐Ÿ’ฉ๐Ÿ’ฉ๐Ÿ’ฉ

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!”๐Ÿ’ฉ

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. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
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: 

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

โ™กWe also learned that your heart beeps and the skin keeps all of yoir blood from falling out.

โ™กWe 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. 

On another note.

Phase 1 of #operationskinnyarse ended today.  For anyone who isn’t interested, have a great Friday and click away now…๐Ÿ˜š

…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. ๐Ÿฎ

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.๐Ÿ˜‚

(And I suppose I should thank The Him ๐Ÿ‘ค 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! ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–

I am Some reality Mum

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


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. ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ
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…”) ๐Ÿ˜ˆ

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.๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ‘‡


I don’t even know where to start, and so I’m ranting to you, my lovely S-Mummies ๐Ÿ’–, to avoid it…

And to stop myself from pouring a HUMONGOUS grape-juice. ๐Ÿท๐Ÿ˜‚


I almost puked in public today. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚

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! ๐Ÿ˜‚


Over and out…

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

Find me on Facebook @secretssofsmum

Instagram @the.s.mum


I am Stupid teething Mum

S-Mum ย is VERRRRRY tired.

Princess had her first restless night in ages. Stupid teeth. ๐Ÿ˜ ๐Ÿ˜  The wee dote had a raging temperature all night and would have sucked the full tube of bonjella had I let her. ย 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? ๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ฉ
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. ย 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.๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿ’ช
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. ย Yes carrots. ย 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. ย Especially when the tooth is almost through.)

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

Shopping list so far:๐Ÿ‘‡



Teetha granules.



Have a Sassy Saturdays Bitcheepooooos ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐Ÿ˜Ž