I am Some Fried Eggs Mum

Today, we escaped as ChickenpockGate has finally ended and we are freeeeeee from the jaws of the sespit that is our home. While I should indeed be deep cleansing and femegating said sespit, I decided that getting OTF was much more important. (Out tay fook!)
 
And so off we pocked… sorry popped… to Derry.
Mammy hasn’t been in Derry for quite a while and it took me a few minutes to get used to all of the shininess and prettiness of all of the funky and new and in style stuff that was hanging in front of me screaming “You know you want me Mammy!”
And of course I want one of everything,like yesterday… and yet I know I must go through my summer stuff from previous years first, where I will find 17 perfectly appropriate and fine bikinis and kaftans and all sorts of other summery stuff that I shall bring with, but not wear!
 
While browsing through the multicoloured rainbow of the swimwear section in a certain debartmenthams store, Mini-Me picked up one particularly frilly and colourful bra top. It was a 38F and while it was stunning if that is your bra size, for Fried Egg Sally here, it wasn’t suitable.
 
“Isn’t this lovely Mammy? You should try it on!” announced Mini-Me.
“It IS lovely Darling, but that isn’t Mammy’s size. That is for a lady with bigger Boobies than Mammy. Every woman has different sized Boobs you see.”
“Ah OK.” she said, replacing the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder which was made for some other Goddess.
I continued looking for the more pebble-esque holders and was happily emagining myself lounging by the pool in one of the very sexy, but subtle one-pieces, when I heard it.
 
“Hi MAMMY?”
Where the feck is she?
I turn around and look frantically for her. She’s standing abut 15 yards away beside the mannequins which are covered in the Ted of the Baker stuff that Mammy hints at EVERY fucking Christmas and yet never gets. She’s pulling the front of the silky material down over the plastic diddy of the greeny brown headless one.
“What are you doi…”
 
“Yours are more the size of THIS woman here aren’t they Mammy?”
 
Shoot.
me.
NOW.
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Enter a caption

 
“Get over here Madam.” I hiss, as the 324 bystanders turn to look at me. (Ok, there might have only been 7 or 8, but it felt like many more.)
 
“But yours don’t look like that” she continued, having a good look at the perky perfectness of the plastic one.
 
“Come on until we find Daddy” I muttered as I gathered up my bags and my dignity from the floor. I walked over to her and took her hand off the prettiness on the mannequin.
 
“Let’s go you rascal” I grumbled, but a part of me couldn’t help but think ‘Why thank you Darling!’ at being compared to the boobage on the model. Even the mannequin was probably laughing at the fact that my fried eggs are still only a fraction of the boobahs on her!
 
How was your day?

I am Singing the Alphabet Mum

A – Z of Mammyhood

There aren’t enough letters in the alphabet for the crap we need to know to parent.

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A – AIM.  Think of the Aims you have for the perfect rearing of your little cherub, and then lower them. considerably.

B  –  BABIES –  Babies are class.  Little chubby, fuzzy cherubs of talcy snuggles. They’re wee love bombs. And the fact that you can suddenly love this little person to infinity having only just set eyes on them, is phenomenal. And then when they arrive, we wonder if they’ll ever do anything other than sleep, eat and poo. Yup. That’s it. Boring little buggers really.  But just wait and enjoy this stage, because you’ll soon have the smiles. And the smiles are fab… and then begins the EVERYTHING ELSE and you’ll soon be wishing that they were tiny and boring again.

C – C-SECTION – Not the easy way out that so many Sanctimammies like to paint it.  Sections are adding fullblown surgery to the birth of your baby. You can read what I really think about that here.

D – DADDIES – Daddies are great. Now granted, many will disagree with me on this. And each circumstance is different. But many Daddies are just as excited and wonderful and hands on as Mammies. They don’t carry the baby.  They don’t give birth. THEY DON’T UNDERSTAAAAAND!  But Mammy, guess what? THAT’S NOT THEIR FAULT. If they are with you and willing to do what they should be doing, let them.  And don’t let people refer to them as “babysitting”. Do YOU babysit your kids? No? Well why would Dad? They’re his kids too. (And if you and Dad, for whatever reason, aren’t together and hate each other, just remember that the kids are still his kids and that he still has a right to be their Dad.)  And if you ARE together and very happy, just remember that wanting to kill him in the middle of the night because he doesn’t hear the babylink again, is perfectly acceptable.

E – EVERYONE – Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has advice for you.  Everyone has their way of doing things.   But remember, opinions are not facts. And everyone else can sometimes piss off.  Go with your gut. Do what’s right for YOU and your family.  And forget about EVERYONE else. If they’re not within your four walls, feck them.

F – FEEDING – Ooooooh… Is she going to go there? Eh yes.  I am. I have already. I’m clear about this.  You feed YOUR baby HOWEVER THE HELL YOU WANT!  Breastfeeding is of course wonderful and natural, but it isn’t for everyone. And if, for whatever reason, you can’t (or don’t want to) breastfeed, that IS YOUR BUSINESS and no one else’s.  And before anyone starts lecturing me on this, let me save your energy and tell you that once again, YOUR opinion is none of my business, so take it somewhere else.  As long as Baby is getting fed, that is all that really matters.

G – GRANDPARENTS – Grandparents are WICKED.  If your kids are lucky enough to be able to spend time with Grandparents, let them.  But let me give you the heads up.  Your children’s behaviour with you, and your children’s behaviour with Granny or Granda are COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!  Usually, they turn into starved, unloved, neglected and abused little feckers the second a Grandparent is within sniffing distance. But that’s not Granny’s fault.  It’s nature. It’s just not written in the baby books, but trust me. It’s like a baby law or something… They all know it and they all abide by it.  Until they’re approximately 37 years old I’m told!

H – HOUSEWORK – Yeah.  Who has time for that craic? Your house will forever more amen be clattered with crap. Yes, we should try to keep it clean.  Yes, finding a routine that works for you is great. (Mine is my Thursday night blitz. Works for me!) But no, your house will never again be the picture perfect show home that it might once have been. Think of the dirt and smudges and handprints as your “layer of love”.  I’m not saying to let your home fall apart, but bring your standards down a bit and life will become easier.  No one cares if your skirting boards haven’t been dusted since 2014.

I – IGNORED – You shall be ignored. You shall feel ignored.  Children love to ignore their parents. Again, this usually lasts until they’re about 25 when they realise that ACTUALLY, you were right about most things.

J – JUMBO KNICKERS – Oh the JOY of the jumbo knickers. Those of you who are packing hospital bags and reading the shitlists of what you NEED to bring, should know that where it says “Disposable underwear”, it SHOULD say “BUY THE BIGGEST BLACKEST CHEAPEST KNICKERS YOU CAN FIND AND DUMP THEM AS YOU CHANGE THEM”. Your ladybits have been through enough Mammy. Paper knickers are pushing it.

K – KICKS – Aaaaaaah the kicks. What all pregnant Mammies long for and enjoy. The cause of excitement and smiles. The cause of heartburn and rib pain! But ultimately, how our little bean communicates with us in our bellies. Don’t worry however, these kicks don’t end after pregnancy. NOOOO!  They continue well into their childhood.  Don’t believe me, try changing the nappy of a wobbler who is throwing a wobbler.  And tell me how much you miss those kicks after spending a night with a 3 year old in your bed.

L – LIQUID POO – Self explanatory really. My technical term for this is POONAMI. As the name suggests, this poo comes in a tidal wave which destroys everything in its reach. Nothing can be saved. Vests, socks, clothes… most shall be dumped. Don’t even try to salvage them. And liquid poos are the slimiest, stinkiest and most sudden of them all. The disguise themselves as farts and can swamp an entire car seat in .46 seconds.  Sometimes, it takes many grown ups to deal with the aftermath of a poonami. Enjoy!

M – MAM-ME TIME – The most underestimated necessity of the Mammy. Sometimes referred to as Selfishness or Terrible by the Sanctimammious of society. Ignore them. Mam-me time is vital and can be acquired easier than you think. In a world where let’s face it, we can’t pee on our own for approximately 6 years, we soon learn the importance of getting some time to ourselves. It can be a simple chat on the phone when the kids are in bed.  Go for a walk. Go to Aldi on your own. Make time for a yoga or gym class, or just get up an hour earlier than the kids to enjoy that cuppa or read or stretch.  Sometimes however, more dramatic Mam-me time is required… a spa trip. An evening out. The Cinema. That hen party you’ve been invited on that you couldn’t POSSIBLY go on. An overnight date night. Whatever it is, take it. You can’t pour from an empty cup Mammy. And you get no medals for trying.

N – NAPPIES – sometimes do not do what they say on the tin.  Babies like to wait for a nice clean on before they work their poonami. Also, you NEVER have enough in the house and you should NEVER leave the house without at least 2 in your bag or boot.

O – Oh no you did not... –  You did not just eat a cold fishfinger off the plate you are scraping.  You did not say “Stop licking the fridge.” You did not just sing the theme tune of Peter Rabbit in the shower. You did not just say “Good boy” to your husband as he handed you the remote.  If you want to read more things that you WILL do, here ya go!

P – POO – Big, small, sheepballs, slimy, black, green, gray, brown, sneaky, silent, violent, sticky, honking… sniff that bum. Not sure? Swipe your finger in… Yup. Poo in the nappy.  Poo in the bath.  Poo on the floor. Conversations about poo. “Good nappies”   Being a parent = poo! Lot of it!

Q – QUIET – The quiet and calm that descend on a home as the last child drifts off to sleep is like nothing else on earth. Busy homes and noisy homes. And noise is fab, but you’ll learn to appreciate quiet on a whole new level once you have babies. Enjoy it however, because once they hit the twoublemaker years, quiet becomes suspicious. If they’re not asleep and they’re quiet, be afraid, be very afraid!

R – READING – Nursery rhymes, songs, stories. Get used to them and get your children used to them. Rhymes are everywhere. They go from being soothing and fun to being really quite useful with toddlers. “Clean up, Clean up, everybody everywhere?” (works 78% of the time!) Read to your babies. And yes, that’s the English teacher in me coming out, but I’m right. Make a bedtime story part of your daily routine from day dot. And you should read too.  Not just internet forums and blogs, try something grown up and funny. Even a few pages a day helps.

 

ALPHABET

S – SEX – Yes so that’s what got you here in the first place, but it doesn’t go away.  We all have different ways of viewing sex. For some, they never want to think about it again. For others, they can’t wait to get back to business. It’s personal. If you’ve had a section, or a particularly traumatic birth, you might need to wait a while before getting back on the job. And it is new. It’s like the first time all over again, because things down there have changed and you might not be in as much control as you used to be of your body parts. But take your time. The first few times after birth, you might feel like you’ll never get back to the way it was.  You will.  It just takes time.

T – TEETHING  –  Labour is not the ultimate hell on earth.  Teething is.  It starts as early as 8 weeks and continues until feck knows when. I have a  Princess who is cutting all four eye teeth at once… Try everything. Herbal remedies, gels, frozen teethers, chew toys, cold face cloths…  It’s a bitch. But it is a phase and it WILL end.

U – U-turns – Be prepared.  You think you’re going one way, you’re not.  You are determined to do something, you don’t.  “I will only feed my children organic food” becomes “Who wants waffles and fishfingers?  “My child shall never have sugar” becomes “JUST GIVE HER THE FUCKING SMARTIES”  “I could never leave my child for a night” becomes “Can you keep her for two?” You might have great intentions and if you can stick to them, good for you, but most of us end up doing massive U-Turns and making no apologies for them!

V – VIOLENCE – in many forms.   1. Violent mood swings.  One minute, you’re beaming with joy, then a pampers ad has you in hysterics.  2. Violent thoughts as your partner snores beside you as you feed or burp for the 46th time that night. 3. Violent protection – the reaction in you when you think that someone has hurt or upset your child.  It’s OK for YOU to scold and shout at them, but someone else does it, and you turn into a Lioness and are planning their slow and painful demise.

Also for VAGINAS – The most magical things in the world. Like Mammies, they can be stretched to the limit and yet spring back practically unscathed.

V is also for VASECTOMY, funnily enough…

W – WASHING – Let the games begin and may the odds be ever in your favour.  Actually, the odds are that you shall never again see the bottom of your laundry basket.  And you WILL wonder if there are 7 invisible people living in your house that you haven’t met.  And you will find things in piles that you forgot you had. And you will wonder if you spend more time with your washing machine than with your partner. (The answer is possibly yes!)  And yet, aren’t we #soblessed to have messy litte rascals to wash for?

W is also for Wine.

X – XXX.  Babies also bring an endless supply of kisses.  From the slabbery ones, to the snottery ones, to the stolen ones.  And kisses and hugs and all internet love that I can send to you, one Mammy to another. Because you ARE wonderful.  And you ARE doing a great job.  If you’re worried about being a good Mammy, you already are one.

Y – YOU.  Don’t lose you. It’s easy for me to write that with my baby now 2 and a half. But seriously. You are Mammy, but you are still you. You still have your needs and you still have your skills. And even if you aren’t able to look after them or use them right now, because you are doing the most important job in the world, you must keep them in sight as you will use them again soon. So keep up the hobby. Go back to the art class. Keep writing or making or baking or singing. Whatever it is that makes you you, show your babies and let them see you doing it.

Z – ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZS – SLEEP  –  The Holy fecking grail. For some it is fine. For others it seems to disappear for 7 years.  There is no secret or answer. And I have NO idea about it. But I can tell you that a bedtime routine from the start helps. And I must also share with you the poewr of CBeebies.  Since Mini-Me was a few weeks old, CBeebies bedtime hour was on in the background.  Iggle Piggle and his multicoloured pals sing and dance and then there is a bedtime story and a nice lullaby, before the screen goes blue.  To this day, it is how my girls know that it is bedtime. Supper, Jammies, storybook, teeth, bed. Sometimes it works, other times, it doesn’t. Bathtime before bed doesn’t work for me. (They get too wired up.)   We also had a side of the bed system. Whoever slept beside the door was on Baby duty during the night. It did help, because we both got some sleep, some nights.

So there!  Chripes that was longer than I’d planned, but considering that I could write (and have probably written) posts on all of the above already, I’ve done well I think to keep it to this length!

Have a great weekend!

I am Some Things the Baby Books Forgot to Mention Mum

I am ‘Some things the Baby Books forgot to mention’ Mum

Feel free to sing along!
“Nappies and dodees” should be read/sung to the tune of “Raindrops and Roses” from The Sound of Music.

“Nappies and Dodees and cute little sockies

Big teddies, small teddies, horseys that rockie,

Elephant mobiles that fly on their strings

These are just some of the new baby’s things.

Baskets from Moses and funky shaped pillows

Grufallos, Minnie Mouse, Wind in the Willows,

Breast pumps and bobos and wee plastic pots,

Plastic spoons needed for feeding your tots.

Where’s the dummy?

Close the stairgate.

Get the nappy baaaag.

I simply can’t deal with this amount of stuff

I miss the space that I had.

Cushions and door clips and safety latches

Lift all those candles and hide all the matches

Puke cloths and poop bags and powders and creams,

Lego and Stains on all of your things.

Carseats and carriers, high chairs and bouncers

Moniters, teethers and measures for ounces

Video moniters keep mammy calm

And Daddy’s still learning how to fold up the pram.

Toys toys toys toys

Toys toys toys toys

Did I mention toys?

I simply am listing the simplest of things

We gather for girls…and boys.”

The BS Bibles spout such shite as “Don’t worry! Babies don’t need to take up ALL the space in your home.  Dedicate a shelf or drawer in your living room to baby essentials to keep them close at hand.  The Baby’s clothes etc should be kept in Baby’s nursery (includes image of pale grey amd white, empty, tidy nursery…)  The moses basket should be in a well appointed space, not too close to any radiators or drafty doors/windows. A well organised changing station will help keep the home mess free.”

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Beautiful, isn’t it?

Where does it prepare us for the explosion of STUFF that ensures that EVERY nook and cranny of your once tidyish home gets covered in Baby?  It’s like a giant Baby lifts the roof off your house and projectile VOMITS a load of utter CRAP all over EVERYTHING.

No room escapes and while for the first few weeks you might be able to contain the Baby stuff to a few baskets or to one corner, once they begin to play with toys or move about, the house slowly becomes overwhelmed by toys that seem to reproduce and multiply while we sleep.And just like the list the BS Bibles give you, this is by no means exhaustive.

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This was my kitchen on a good day!

You will find more crap to add to it and you will wonder why you didn’t take millions of photographs of your lovely fengshuiyed, Cath Kitsonesque, picture perfect home BC to send to ‘House and Home’.

And as for new furniture or carpets?

Don’t bother your arse until they’re old enough to know NOT to write on the cushions with glitter glue. 
Wrecking balls…

Absolute wrecking balls. 😂😂😂

Giveaway – Babynow Teether Ball

The lovely Dan Connolly from Cork mailed me to see if I would like to review his product.  Now as my girls are past this and because I don’t do the whole “I’ll review if you pay me to craic”, I declined.  So instead he offered to send me 3 sets of these lovely wee teething balls to give away to my followers.

I agreed on the condition that I liked them.  If I didn’t, I’d be returning them.

And guess what, I like them.  I’m a bit sad actually that I hadn’t found them while Princess was in the hellish horrors of the slabbering and screaming a few months ago. And while she could still get some joy from them, at 2 and a half, she’d more likely to throw them, so I’ve kept her hands away from them.

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They’re colourful and the colours are neutral and bright.  The material and glue used are food grade silicone and safe to little mouths.  The jingle of the little bell is lovely and they are a sensory dream.  A beautiful product which would be a wonderful gift for a new parent.

31369352_10160151839550167_1761351695654191104_nNot only have I got some sets to give away, Dan has kindly reduced the price of them on his amazon page for my blog readers this weekend!

Usually retailing at over €40, they are available to you for  £24.95!

 

 

This price is only valid from Friday to Sunday Night , for my followers by clicking here here!

 

This item has been developed by www.babynowbrand.com run by Daniel Connolly from Cork. He is an ecommerce entrepreneur and focuses on selling globally via the amazon.com marketplace.

If you fancy winning a set, hit on my facebook page before 1pm Saturday.

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I am Still Counting Cows

cowsMammy loves cows.
“Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy Mammy” sings Princess, swinging off my legs as I try to cook her tea.
Try as I might, nothing is distracting her. I try my cross voice. I am about to resort to the naughty step as it her hanging off of me is nothing short of dangerous when pots are bubbling, when low and behold, my life and sanity are saved by cows.
Last night see, Granda put his lovely cows and their baby calves into the paddock beside us. Princess hadn’t paid much attention.
Mammy remembers back a few years to our first summer in the house, when in order to get Mini-Me to give me 5 minutes peace, Mammy had suggested that she go count Granda’s cows. It had worked and Mammy had enjoyed a cuppa on the doorstep while she’d stood counting “one, tooooo, freeeeee, seveeeeen, ten…” Mammy had of course felt like a terrible Mammy and sworn that she’d never do such a thing to her again. #badmammy
And Mammy has stuck to that promise. Because you see Mini-Me is not Princess, so it doesn’t count! But she does, so guess what happened next.
“OOOOOOH Look at Granda’s cows!”
Yeah whatever Mammy…Nope Not taking me on.
“Princess would you go over and count Granda’s cows for him please?”
“Ok Mammy!” and off she wobbled, before spending almost 9 minutes repeating “Wan, toooo, freeeee, fwiiiiive, seven, niiiine, ten,,, four….toooo”.
Oh the memories! Oh the cuteness! Oh the joy!
Yes indeed, Mammy loves the cows.

I am So It’s a New Baby Mum

Mammy does love the news of a new babby.

Mammy doesn’t particularly fancy the prospect of having another one herself now, but Mammy still does be smiling when the news of another wrinkly little Squisheeface is announced.

Mammy does be particularly excited when the new babby belongs to someone she knows and cares about. 

And while Mammy couldn’t give a continental contraction about the Family Royale in the Brexit state, Mammy couldn’t help but think “Ah nice” when she saw the news on the Twit-feed this morning.

Mammy is glad that Katie and Billy Boy have welcomed another little prince to their family. Lovely. Honestly.

What Mammy doesn’t get however, is where the Media managers of the family Royale are and what they are drinking? Mammy would like to know why the fook they think that the poor woman needs to be paraded around only 4 hours after the birth, dressed to the nines and made up perfectly?

God but she looks stunning in fairness and no, Mammy is not bitter as Mammy is very aware that that is one of “the joys” that Katie signed up to when she sold her soul to the life of the eternal celebrity. And as long as she is happy, good for her.

(Also, Mammy is quite certain that I too probably looked EXACTLY like that 4 hours after the birth of her girls… Because Mammy was so drugged and knackered that she would have believed ANYTHING at that particular moment. I may have reached that level of bloat free and prettiful again by 5 months postpartum!)

Mammy would love to have seen lovely Kate (for she is indeed beautiful) walking out of the Lindybob wing looking happy but knackered, with her hair scraped back from her face and a comfy tracksuit. And flat shoes, for I am sure her Ladybits are crying with every step.

Because then, while I still would have wondered and awed at the fact that she was, you know, STANDING, I would have seen what she is behind the royal BS… A warrior woman who has just brought life into the world and who should be left the feck alone with her lovely wee babby, rather than having to not only parade around outside the wing looking like she was at a Ladies’ Day, but to look perfect while doing it.

I do hope that there are no Mammies looking at her today feeling lesser or inferior to what they are because they weren’t smiling to the world with a blow dry. I hope that no Mammy feels that she was doing something wrong because 4 hours after the birth she was wrestling with sanitary nappies and crying because she was crying and didn’t know why she was crying.

And mostly, I hope that right now, Kate is snuggled up in her baggies, on her sofa, hair up, bra off, cozy with her Hubby, enjoying tea and toast and smiling at her new wee Baby and glad that all of that circus is done with!

Congrats to them. And congrats to all the Mammies who didn’t have a live feed of their hospital wall running on Twitter as her little Prince was getting his crown on!

I am Strapping her in Mum

To the Lady in the Car.
I know that right now, it does not look like it, but yes, yes they ARE my children. I am not trying to kidnap them.
Yes it may look like I am a stranger, dragging them against their will to a world unknown, to torture and penance, but trust me, the only one enduring torture and penance at this particular moment, is me. (and perhaps your eardrums.)
I am not a stranger however. I am their Mammy. I carried each of them in my stretched womb for 76 months… I have loved, fed, clothed and nurtured them since their births, and I spend the entirety of my existence working to provide for them, both spiritually and physically. Sometimes, mentally too, but that’s mostly Me. I have paper to prove that these little ones, who right now are screaming and hollering so much that I forgive your raised eyebrow, ARE INDEED MINE. I also have the stretchmarks and ruined ladybits as a receipt.
Right now, as I fight with my Twoublemaker to get her into the car seat in the car that they know well as ours, I wonder if I had an ACTUAL receipt, would some shop take them back…even just for ten minutes? Her plank is stronger than any grown Man in our Jim, and her ability to remain in said position despite Mammy’s manipulation, begging and near force, is fecking ridiculous. While she refuses to allow her arse onto HER car seat, the 6 year old wails because apparently going home with the woman who feeds and clothes and loves her, is a punishment worse than anything imaginable. She too, is crying. WHY? Fecked if I know…
What I do know however, is that to a stranger, it looks like the crazy sweaty woman in her honking gym gear has randomly pulled up to the childcare and lifted the first two children she bumped into. It looks like I am a monster, determined to steal them to sell them for rubies or diamonds…or gin or something.
And as I finally force, (not gonna lie, she didn’t go gently…), my uberstrong fartypants into her seat and strap the crying one into hers, I get into MY seat to start the car. I turn off the radio as I can’t hear it over the pair of them anyway. One is now asking why it is not Friday so she can have a treat, and the miniest one is screaming “POP POP POP” at the top of her strapped in little lungs. I look across and see you smile at my sympathetically and I wonder if your children also like to play the “Let’s make her lose the will to live as she straps us in the car” game. I believe it is their way of expressing their love for me… They love me dearly, they do.
We begin the long journey home, to the house where YES we do all live together, and of course, after approximately 35 metres, both of the little feckers are singing and chattering away in the back seat as if NOTHING has just happened.
I imagine them high-fiving each other behind my back, their eyebrows communicating in secret code, “Go us… we’ve made the wench pay. Now, let’s work on getting pizza for tea.”
“What’s for tea Mammy?”
“Brocolli”.
Take that Bitcheepoo. (Yes, they’re getting pizza… )
Sincerely in nappies and gin,
Mammy
pram
Funny how Jessie and Woody don’t freak out on HER when she’s strapping them into her “car, isn’t it?
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I am Some of Their Current Tricks Mum

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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 Simply Feeding my Baby Mum. 

Speaking of choice…

The S-Mum

​“Mumpty Mumpty sat on the wall,

Mumpty Mumpty had a great fall…

All the Queen’s buddies and all the Queen’s men,

Couldn’t put Mumpty together again.”

Yup.

Mammies face a wall.

And boy it’s a big wall.

It’s huge.  It’s long.  It’s terrifying to sit atop because it’s so high.  It’s divided Mammies for years and a much as we campaign and try to promote awareness about the wall,  it only seems to be getting higher. The Mammies on each side of this wall think they’re better than the Mammies on the other side.  And the Mammies still sitting on top of the wall are generally terrified because not only do they not know which side to jump off, but most of them know that regardless of which side they choose, they’ll be judged.
And the worst thing about this wall which divides Mammies?
We built it ourselves.

And…

View original post 1,139 more words

I am Some Mother’s Day Feels Mum

From Mammy on Mother’s Day

 

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

I love you each second of every daymammy

And even when sometimes I grumble and scold

I hope that you know that even if you’re being bold,

I trust you, I get you, I love you so much

I’ve loved you since the minute I first felt your touch,

(Whether at birth or first meeting, It matters not how

I became your Mammy, I’m your Mammy now.)

My total existence revolves around you;

Your growth and your wellness, everything that you do.

I’m thinking about you, awake and asleep

And even if I’m not with you, please know that I keep

you so close in my heart and always on my mind.shoes

You’re my reason for living, the reason I find

to get up on the mornings where there’s been no sleeping

to keep smiling and going, when I just feel like weeping.

But always, no matter how much I may struggle

The world can be fixed with just one little “cuggle”.

When I look at you sleeping, so pure and calm,

I love you with everything that I am.

I’ll push you, protect you and help you to grow,

I’ll make sure you know all the things you should know.

I’ll keep you as safe as I possibly can

I’ll make sure you know just how proud that I am

To be raising a child who’s so brilliant and clever

and to be your wee Mammy, forever and ever.

So how do I love you, let me count the ways.

Every day Darling, not just on Mother’s Day.”

 

To Mammy on Mother’s Day

How to I love thee, well count I cannot,

But I don’t need my numbers to tell you a lot.

mygirlsI love you for reasons that do not need words,

For the fact that you’re mine since I came to this world.

Because you love me every day and each night,

When I’m being my best, or I’m giving you frights

I know that you sometimes are worried and scared

But you don’t let me see that, You’re too busy being there

When I need you for playtime or stories or songs,

When I call in the night, and you carry me long,

long into the hours where we should be asleep,

runjulia

When I hide from the monsters or cry or hurt deep.

When I eat all my dindins or throw it you

When I giggle and cry, when you’re covered in poo.

It really doesn’t matter what I do or I say,

You are my Mammy and I’ll simply love you always.

 

 

Much love to all the Mammies of any Babbies, all over the world.

The S-Mum xxxx