Tag Archives: parenting

I am She flipped the Bird Mum

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Sweet Jebus and Baby Japonica of the Netherregions, I may actually vomit from laughing tonight.
The photograph below might seem terrible and offensive.  The photograph I SHOULD post with this post, WOULD be terrible and offensive, because it SHOULD have my beautiful 5 year old in it instead of me. 😣

Let me explain…
Mini-Me is a picker.  She LOVES to pick things, but she especially loves to pick her fecking nails. 
Now, this is a habit that is becoming a problem. She has the nails so picked down that they are barely even nails anymore; more like extended cuticles.  I am at my wit’s end.
I’ve tried everything.  I’ve explained. I’ve scolded. I’ve tried to talk to her. I’ve shouted. I’ve bought fidget spinners. I’ve tried to teach her how to click her fingers and on the advice of a kiddy O.T., shown her lots of alternative things to do with her fingers. I’ve tried everything.  Blutac works, but only until it gets stuck in the carpet, or her hair, or until Princess tries ro eat it. 😂
So I’m now trying what EVERY Mamma resorts to in the end.
 Blackmail.
I’ve told her that if she can get a white nail back on her 10 fingers, I’ll take her to my beautician to get her a glittery polish.  
She’s trying soooooooooo hard.  Soooooooo hard in fact, that tonight when I mentioned that her nails were still very sore looking and that I can’t wait to see them qhen they get longer, she ran across the room at me, eyes bulging in her head, shouting with excitement  “But LOOOOKIT Mammy! I DOOOOOOO have one white nail on DIS HAND, LOOK!”
And it was clear to see that on her MIDDLE finger, there is a tiny slither of white appearing.
I almost died.
Trying so hard not to buckle laughing in front of her, I managed to praise her and tell her it looks so much stronger and that it’ll soon be time to go to get them polished.
She skipped off to show Princess (yup. Finger up into her wee face!) shouting behind her “I can’t WAIT to show Granny my nail tomorrow!” (Granny, you’ve been warned…😂😂)
So IF we meet you out and about over the weekend and my Darling Mini-Me “flips you the bird” or whatever you’d like to call it, please know that it is VEWY innocent and not at ALL because she sees it at home. I may swear like a sailer, but I would NEVER do this in front of her, (well, not to her FACE anyway!😂😂)   
So I hope you understand why I chose to stage the pic? As much of a Feck-it-up as I may sometimes be as a Mammy, I’m NOT quite THAT bad. 

Not yet anyway! 
Now, decisions.
Red or white? Glass or bottle?
How was your day? 

😂😂😂😂

I am Summer Pop-up Mum

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Mammy is very pleased with her wee self.
Mammy is OFFICIALLY the “bestest wee Mammy in this whole house”. 😅 (True story like.)
Mammy is VERY aware that it is not a Birthday, or Christmas, or indeed ANY important occasion which warrents the bestowment of large gifts on her minions, but Mammy is also aware that, as much as The Perfect Parent Manual (written by S. Anctimammy), would disapprove of popping a pop-up pressie for no particular reason, Mammy doesn’t give a continental flibbertygibbet.  
Because tonight, Mammy rocks.
This ladybug pop-up tent and tunnel is WICKED.  It literally POPS UP in 3 seconds AND, best part, it folds up again into a tiny little bag the size of a steering wheel. (Although that has yet to be proven…😂😂)

The two Dollies spent 2 whole hours playing in this today, and their wee eyes popped just as much as the tent did when they saw it.  They’ve set up a camp inside it and are in pop-up Heaven.
It cost  £14.99 in that new Superstore in Derry… Range, it’s called.  It should be called HEAVEN!
It.

Is.

Immense.

(Do NOT go in there unless you have at least 3 hours to spare! It’s unreal.)
So yes, Mammy is very pleased with her wee self, because Mammy is INDEED the “bestest wee Mammy in this whole house”, and for tonight at least, Mini-Me doesn’t miss her teacher! 

(HAH! Take that!… yes, I’m sad.😥😂)
 So if this ladybug survives my two Hellraisers even for the month of July, and if I can use it as a fun distraction to grab a pee (all by myself! 😅) or get to the bottom of a cuppa, then it was worth EVERY penny.

#mammywin

I am Scary Clippers Mum 

Posted in children, parenting, Uncategorized by

Feck-it-up Friday seems an appropriate day for this smumble!  😘
Being pregnant is scary.  You worry about everything; the pregnancy, the birth, how you’ll be as a Mammy. You think about the things that are frightening you already, even before Baby arrives; feeding, burping, sickness, temperatures, exhaustion, “doing the right thing” etc etc.
But one of the worst experiences of being a Mammy is one that you would never even consider during pregnancy.  The true horror of this particular terror only enters your mind when you are faced with it for the first time.
I am of course referring to the “Cutting of the nails”.

The first time you realise that your minion’s nails might need trimmed, is a milestone. You remain calm. You pull out the little cute scissor and clipper set that came in a baby shower gift.  It’s no big deal.
And then, you hold the little clipper, hovering over their little soft nails, wondering wtf to do…
It’s possibly one of the worst fears you’ll ever experience.  What if she moves? What if your hand shakes? What if you cut him?

And yet, like every challenge you’ve faced in the past 10 months, you take a deep breath and go for it.  And most of the time, you are so careful that OF COURSE, you are succesful and the little nails get trimmed.
And the fear might lessen, but it never goes away.
You grow confident.

You get comfortable.

You stop thinking about it… and then it happens.
You nip his or her little finger, just ever so slightly, but enough to make them catch THEIR breath, start suddenly and then scream a cataclysmic howl that rips every shred of your being and soul to smithereens… It crushes you.
You drop the clippers. You instinctively pull the wee hand to your mouth. You kiss the fingers. You clutch the baby so close to you that you feel every molecule of her pain as you try in vain to sooth them.  You sob with them, trying so hard to calm them. You wish you could rewind 2 minutes. You curse yourself for being the worst Mammy in the world. You eventually find the baby settling a little, the screams gently easing to little wobbly lipped sobs.  You are afraid to look at the massacred finger, certain that there HAS to be blood everywhere and that you have scarred her for life.
But when you finally look at the little fingertip, chances are the nip is utterly tiny and simply a little more pink than usual.  Ok, so there might be a little cut, but it will disappear as instantly as it happened.

The FEELING however remains in you.  It never leaves.  It’s guilt.  It’s  regret.  It’s self loathing…
and like all the other milestones, it happens to all of us and it’s perfectly normal.
The first time is the worst.  If you’re lucky, it will not happen again.  But you WILL feel the same emotion again at some point, maybe when you step on her toe for the first time, or catch her finger in the drawer, of scratch her thigh with a ring while changing a poonami, or watch her fall right in front of you, but just out of your reach… the list is endless.
Unless you wrap your minions in bubblewrap, they are destined to get hurt. But when you know that the injury has been your fault, there is NOTHING that can make you feel worse.
(Unless you’re my sister, who recently sat a chair leg on Mini-Me’s toe. Mini-Me screamed for 15 minutes. My poor sister was devastated. I was rocking Mini-Me, soothing her while Granny held a cold cloth on her toe and simultaneously trying to convince the Aunty that it was absolutely fine and that she shouldn’t be upset, when Madam announced through her sobs “I…don’t…need….no….naunty….no….more!”  😂😂 THAT made her feel worse I think! 😅😅)
But I digress.
Yes, beware the Clippers.

But remember, that it’s just another Mammy milestone.
Any stories? Feel free to share. 👇👇👇
😘😘😘😘

I am Snapping Instagranny Mum

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Don’t you just love Instagranny?
The instanty instantaneous instanial portrayals of fabulosity and perfection. The filters.  The hashtags. The generally innocent fun…
The absolute instabullshit that it is. 😂
Now, don’t get me wrong.  I do enjoy the Instagranny. I like posting funky and funny snaps of my day and I HAVE been known to post pictures where I happily look like a spotty, wrinkly badger’s arse, my house is akin to a Game of Thrones Battlefield and other such real life crap #nofilter.
But of course, I also like to post pretties. I don’t usually filter if I’m honest, but whatever, who cares right?
Well, we should care.

Because we need to understand that what we are seeing on Instagranny is usually a load of fabricated instashite.  I can create a veil of instaperfection to hide anything.

I did it today.

If you look at my profile, you’ll see smiles, cuteness, playtime and fresh aired fun.

And yes, all of these things did happen today.

We actually had quite a nice chilled out kind of day.

But here are some of the things that happened today that I didn’t insta:
I woke up with a splitting sinus headache and really thought I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed.

Of course, I HAD to get out of bed! 😂

By 9am I had shouted at Mini-Me 4 times. She had ignored me 13.

We stayed in our PJs until 2pm.

I mopped the floors and 34 minutes later, had to get the hoover out again. I swore a bit.

Princess cried for no apparent reason for a full hour, then poonamied.

No one ate their dinner.

Princess got her hand stung by a nettle.😭

My skin looks like pizza.

I need a shower.

I feel a tad emotional as it’s a special person’s anniversary today. 💙💙

I said “Get off the dog” and “get off your sister” 369 times, sometimes in the same breath. 😂

Mini-Me cried hysterically when I made the mistake of mentioning that the flowers she picked were alive… (more on that another night.)

Then, Just before bed,  when I thought we’d FINALLY made it to “calm time”, Princess pulled a plate of cold uneaten pasta all over herself and my (newly feckin mopped) floor and Mini-Me decided to faceplant the tiles in the hall and scream for 15 minutes.  (She’s fine thank God, but I can still hear the bang of her hitting the floor.)😭
But the BEST one? 🤐🤐
As I was putting the toothpaste on her toothbrush, Princess walked up behind me and…
BIT ME ON THE ASS.
Yup, she ACTUALLY BIT ME.

On my ass.

I thought she was giving me one of her “leghugs”, but nooooooo.  She sank her little teeth right into my upper thigh. And holy Christ, she has some jaw strength.

I am bruised.

(I shall desist from snapping that!😂)

Now, if I had had the wherewithall, time or energy to instagranny all of THAT ☝☝☝ ,

1. I’d actually be a shit mum because it would have taken hours

2. My account probably would have been shut down for public health and child protection breaches

3. No one would think I was instaperfect and that would be instaterrible 😂😂😂 #sarcasm
So there.
A wee reminder that what we are looking at on our instafeeds and of course, EVERYWHERE else, is NOT ALWAYS REAL.
We don’t tend to share the shite parts, or indeed the NORMAL parts of our day.  Today, feeling as grumpy and fooked off as I am, I consciously posted only the lovelies. They make me smile. They might make you smile. (My girls ARE adorable yes, I shall give them that.)
But if nothing else, the image below is only a SNAP of the full day.  A normal day. A typical day. A not very exciting, but satisfactory day nonetheless.
Ok, I don’t get bit on the ass every day, but I do have instaperfectly insta-IMperfect days.
How was your day?

#nofilter #knowwhatsreal
(PS… Black and white works wonders on badger’s arse syndrome! 😂😂😘)

I am Swallow me up please Ground Mum

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Tonight, I need advice.  😐
How does one get the ground to ACTUALLY open up and Swallow them? 

 Because if someone could work out an app for that, life would become soooooooooo easy.  😭
Today, we met my friend for coffee.  She recently broke up with Gobshite.  A grade A gobshite actually, but one of those Gobshites who was always nice to everyone, and so it’s difficult to actually say much bad about him.  
He was especially nice to my Mini-Me and so on the road to, (let’s say), Gemima’s house, she asked me: 
 “Will (let’s say) John-Joe be there Mammy?”   

“Nooooo Sweetie.  John-Joe doesn’t live with Gemima anymore pet.  They broke up so we won’t be seeing John-Joe anymore.”

“Never EVER again?”

“No Darling.  But it’s OK because Gemima is very happy since he moved out and she’ll be fine.”

“Ok.”
As we pulled into the driveway,  I remembered to warn “Don’t ask about John-Joe please Mini-Me.  I don’t want you to mention him while we’re here. OK?”
“Ok Mammy”.
Yeah right S-Mum. 😂😂😂 It took all of 3 minutes before she started.  
The conversation went something like this:
MM    Hi Gemima.  Where’s John-Joe?

G      Erm…

Me    Mammy already explained this Mini-Me, now go play with the cat.

MM    But where IS he?

G      John-Joe doesn’t live here anymore pet. We broke up.

Me    That’s enough now.  Where’s the cat?

MM    Well John-Joe was my fwend and I wuved him so you can’t have broked up.  Can you wing him and tell him to come back here RIGHT now so I can see him please?

Me      OK, Who wants a biscuit?  Mini-Me! Have a biscuit! (fuckitty fuck fuck!!)

MM    I don’t want a biscuit.  Why did you bweak up wif him?  I WUV John-Joe.  

Me   Enough now Madam. Hahah! She’s such a rascal. hahahhahaha  ( Where is the fecking cat?  Please GOD, send in the fucking cat.)

G    She’s grand.  Sure she doesn’t understand.

MM     I have a boyfwend you know?

G (smiling at the subject change)   Do you Sweetheart?  Who is your Boyfriend? 
And I KNEW, there and then, what was about to come out of the little Demon’s mouth…  I knew by her face.  I knew by the excitement on her face.  I knew because I KNOW her and her imagination… and I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up…
MM     John-Joe is MY Boyfriend.

(Yup.  She did it.😭😭  Like a mini Cameron feckin Diaz in a movie where she’s happily playing the mistress.  I couldn’t breath.  I looked at Gemima’s face, honestly uncertain about what I was going to see…  THANKFULLY, she was laughing.) 😄
G   Oh is he reeeeeeally?  Well good luck to you pet.  

MM    Well YOU bwoke up wif him, so you don’t want him anymore anyway.  Can I have another biscuit?

me    Yes Darling and then you can go out and play with the traffic…
Enter the blasted fucking CAT, 2 minutes too late.   “OooOoOOoh  CAT!  Hellloooooooo witto CAT!” she screamed as she ran out the door after the terrified and unfortunate creature. Better late than never. Stupid cat. 
And then we laughed and laughed and I’m pretty sure she did a super job to not cry, and we (half) joked that we would love a glass of wine rather than a coffee,(hahahahahahaha) and she joked about how funny Mini-Me is and how she has nothing to learn.
And I disagreed profusely because she has LOTS to learn, the most important and urgent thing being how to SHUT UP!  

Followed by how to say NOTHING when you’ve been warned to say nothing.

Followed by how to up her choice of Gobshite… but maybe we’ll leave that for another 10 years or more. 
I’m still cringing.

If the ground had opened, I would have jumped in, (but not before I’d grabbed the biscuits!)
How was your day?🍷
😘😘😘😘