Tag Archives: parenting

​I am Scratching Already Mum

Posted in blog, children, parenting by

Lice.
Dirty rotten little shits.😠


How many of you are scratching your head already?

Even thinking about them has me ripping the skin off my scalp.
Two days…yes… TWO DAYS after Mini-Me started school, I received a phonecall from another S-Mum to let me know she’d already found the nasty little feckers in her Minion’s hair.  

She’d already treated the whole house and was just letting me know as our two little Darlings love to hug, they do. 💖
(Scratches…)
My reactions included:
1. Serious testing of my “It’s Soooo OK, I’ve got my shit together” face.

2. Immediate scratching of my own head.

3. Instant scrutiny of Mini-Me’s head. (Thankfully, no nits!)

4. More scratching.

5. Instant gratitude to my lovely Hairdresser for making me buy Lice prevention spray and warning me to NEVER let her out the door in the morning without a spray. (Thanks Ciara.)

6. A bit more scratching.

7. Checking her head again JUST to make sure.

8. Calling my Mammy to ask if I would see them or if they’re invisible to the naked eye, in which case my friend who owns a telescope was going to be getting a visit!
I’ve NEVER experienced head lice.

I have fond memories of the metal comb on a Sunday night after bathtime each time “The letter” came home in one of the schoolbags to announce the arrival of lice to the classroom.  

Thankfully, we never actually got them so I can honestly say that the phonecall last week, 

FREAKED 

ME

 OUT.😣
I went straight to the chemist and actually BOUGHT the treatment, just to have in the house, because whatever day I spot the little pricks in her hair, I don’t want to have to go through the trauma of leaving the house to kill them. I shall be Super-exterminator-Mum and I shall DESTROY them withing 3 minutes.
In the local chemist, I quietly asked for “Calpol, teetha…Oh! And whatever you use to treat lice please.”

(Scratches.)
“How many heads are infested?” nice lady asks. (Scratches head ever so subtly.) 
“Oh noooooo!” High-pitched immediately panicked voice. 
 She can’t POSSIBLY think we have nits.  I can’t have people thinking that! 😣😣 

Dammit, I should have gone to a huge chemist where no one knows me and no one cares what you’re buying, (Like when I used to give a shit who sold me “the pill” years ago! Anyone else? 😂😂😂)
  “It’s just to have it in the house incase. They’re in the classroom apparently and I just want to have it in.”

I then heard myself rambling on about my hairdresser warning me to use the spray yadda yadda and how THANK GOD I had listened etc…you know, as if to PROVE that I wasn’t lying and to justify buying something so terribly uncouth as lice treatment.
“I used to do that too love!” Said one of the other chemist ladies.

Well thank the Lord and his Donkey for that.  💖
Because I’m OBVIOUSLY not the first Crazy Mum to buy Lice treatment BEFORE there are even lice!
And I will OF COURSE need it at some stage, and I shall be the S-Mum sending the text or making the call.
And I am grateful to the Mummy in question for giving me the heads up…boom…😂

 (It probably didn’t cost her a thought as she is a fablisly experienced and not-crazy-first-time-mummy-of-a-school-goer and knows how much of a silly NOT-big-deal lice are and she’ll probably roll her eyes when she reads this!) 😁
It’s just another first for this scratchy Mummy.

And at least now, I am READY for the little feckers.

But I still won’t say “Bring them on”, because I’m already scratched out at the THOUGHT of them!
Go on, admit it.

Comment below if you’ve scratched your head even ONCE while reading this. 👇😙👇😀
(Scratches.)
Happy sunday night Scratching! 😙😙

I am Swearing Mum 

Posted in blog, children, family, parenting, swear words by

​S-Mum has come to realisation that we should really stop swearing.
I say “we” to include ALL of the members of my family who sometimes swear; you know?  Me, The Him… Mini-Me…
In the past few weeks, little Miss Moral Knickers has upped her game of correctional disapproval.  If anyone drops a swear word, her reaction is to announce “BAD WOD!” with an urgency and fervour to match only a Mamma who ALMOST spills her wine.  Her speed and accuracy are AMAZING!
Mini-Me’s aunty stubbed her toe yesterday and, of course, reacted with a FABLIS rendition of JEEEEEEESUS CHRIIIIIIST!

BEFORE she had even pronounced the T at the end of Christ, we heard “BAD WOD!” resounding  through the air…from ANOTHER ROOM!

Even watching Peppa Feckin Pig, by which she is, (like most kids), for some reason ENGROSSED to the point that I doubt she’d notice if SANTA🎅 HIMSELF walked in!, Her High-moral-horse-ness picked up on the expletive in the other room and had it suitably disciplined within nanoseconds.
Impressive. 😑😑


The funniness of her reaction however, is LESS FUNNY when she starts correcting non-family members. 😥😥😥
 Our Gardener was here earlier and got admonished for his accidental use of “Shit”.  He tripped over the dog-horse.🐶

 It was a perfectly appropriate use of emergency expletive, but not for Mini-Me.

“BAD WOD!”

(Thankfully, he too has bossy minions of his own…) 😂
On Saturday, The Him announced “I keep forgetting to put that bloody box in the attic.”
“BAD WOD!”

“I did NOT say a Bad Word!?”

“Yes, you did Daddy.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“I heard you.  You said Bloody Box. Dat wight Mum?”

“I did NOT!”
Me and Bloke stifling spontaneous combustion…”You did Honey. She’s right I’m afraid.”
He genuinely didn’t even realise he’d said it and proceeded to apologise. “Ah Ok! Silly Daddy didn’t mean to say that.  You were right.”
Cue smug little fartsickle shrugging her shoulders and saying “See! Told ya!” before flouncing to her room.
The Bloke starts to laugh.

We have the “very seriously good parenting We really need to stop swearing, before she starts repeating us!” conversation…
The Bloke buckles.

“BEFORE she starts? She told me yesterday I was a Duckhead.”
Oh.

Sweet.

Gemima. 😣😣😣
And that’s not the worst one.

I had jumped out and frightened her that morning and had a good old giggle to myself as she ran screaming down the hall.  Apparently what I didn’t hear because of my guffawing was her telling her teddy “She’s a BITCH!” 😁😁
So there you go.

  My Mother-Theresa-esque-Morally-superior Mini-Me is actually an absolute potty mouth.
I am officially terrified that she will decide to use her colourful language at school and her lovely young and polite Teacher will think she comes from a family of Potty mouths… She does of course, but it’d be nice to keep that hidden for a while.
Terrible isn’t it? I’ll await the referral Social Services and the disapproving eyebrows from the perfect parents who never let their kids HEAR them swear, 😉 and I promise to try to be a better example to her.
But as a positive, she has been using them in the correct context, so as a language teacher I must commend that. 🙄🙄


I’m often reminded by my parents of MY first day of school, where I seemingly came home from school and called my baby brother a “Wee Bastard.”

  My lovely ladylike Mum has never recovered from the shock, but sure look it…I turned out alright didn’t I? ( Tumbleweed rolls across page…)😅
Goodnight Bitcheepooooos. 
“BAD WOD!” 😂

I am Shame-on-Body-Shamers Mum

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​PART 1…
Yes.  I’m saying it.  

Stop Body Shaming bumps.😡
Body Shaming happens to all women, of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, all the time…EVEN, believe it or not, during Pregnancy. 😲
Yes, Pregnancy…
You know that time when you are eating for two and are supposed to GLOW like a fricken Christmas Tree and your body is a temple of growth and nurture, for all to admire and be in awe of?

When you’re also a hormonal wreck, paranoid, vulnerable and particularly susceptible to tears? 😢😢

When you’re growing a PERSON inside of you; sometimes more than one, 😥and you are officially exempt from giving a continental crap about your shape for the next year and more?
 Yes. Even then.
Body shaming the Bump DOES happen.

It’s not usually intentional, but it happens.
I have a confession to make.
During my last pregnancy… (and I mean last in both senses of that word!)…I did something mean. 😈
I got so fecking SICK of people freaking out when they saw the size of my bump, that one day I decided to have a little fun with it.
I was HUMONGOUS.  (And no, I am NOT exaggerating.  Ask ANY of my family or friends and they will smile a dim smile and nod in agreement.)And just to prove how big my perfect bump was, the photograph below was taken when I was 36 weeks.  And I wasn’t quite as big as I would be at 39! 😂👇👇👇👇👇👇

With Mini-Me, I showed at 10 weeks.

With Princess, I got to 7 weeks before I got fed up trying to hide my bump.

I have always been quite slim so in fairness, trying to hide a bump was never going to be easy, but even loose tops didn’t cover my little (or not so little) secret.  

We never really got the chance to keep it to ourselves until after the 12 week scan, but hey!
So you can imagine how big I was by 30 weeks.  I looked bigger than most expectant Mammas look at full term.  I remember walking into a shop one day at 31 weeks and the look of panic on the shop assistant’s face when she clocked the BUMP was hilarious.  She approached me and flew through the usual chitchat to get straight to her point.
  “When are you due love?”

I couldn’t help myself my Pretties.  It was out before I even thought about it.
“Ten days ago”, I answered, shaking my head and rubbing my big belly, “I’m hoping a walk around the shops will help get me started.” (added puffs for effect…pause as if whincing in pain…)

“Here let me help you!”  I swear to God, she ran around that shop filling  my wee basket so quickly, I really couldn’t keep up with her.

“All the best now Lovey, I hope all goes well!” she cooed after me as I left.  I’m pretty sure she needed a strong drink after that.  and yes, I shouldn’t have lied, but I was fed up.
For almost 10 months, you become the property of the world.  (and yes, it is 10 months…9 my arse.)
EVERYONE has an opinion.
“You’re so HUGE!”  (Really?  I hadn’t noticed.  Is that why my pelvis is dragging on the ground when I walk?)😐
“I was never as big as you!”  (Piss off.) 😐
“Aw poor Maria.  You must be scundered…”  (No Deary.  I’m just pregnant.)😐
“Well Tracy SAID you were huge but I didn’t think you were THIS HUGE!”  (Yup.  For this one, I had to kick my sister under the table to stop her from DESTROYING the unintentionally offensive woman.)😅
“Is it heavy?”   (In fairness, this question was from a lovely friend who has bever been pregnant so it was a genuine question and I gave her a genuine answer…”Yes.  I feel like I’m carrying an articulated fecking LORRY on my ladybits.”)
“I suppose you can barely move with that bump?”  (No.  I’m just back from Irish Dancing.  I’m high kicking Higher than ever before!)😂
“Aaaaaaah you’re not THAT big!”  OK, OK.  Who am I kidding?  I NEVER heard this one! 😅😂
“You must be nearly due?”  (No I’m only 28/30/32/34 weeks…cue shock/horror/sympathy/panic on their face.)
And these are only the few I remember.
And so maybe now, you understand why I played the trick.
Do I feel guilty? No, but I felt really fricken frustrated a few weeks later when I didn’t have the balls to go in with my even BIGGER Bump and I really wanted a certain cheese the lady stocked. 😆😆
But seriously, Stop it.  We all need to stop it. (And of course I include myself in this.  We ALL do it don’t we?)

In fairness, we don’t even realise we’re doing it.

The things we say to a pregnant lady are usually not intending ANY offence AT ALL.  Of course not.
But if you’re going to say anything, try not to comment on the bump.  
Tell her she looks glowing, even if you think she looks knackered.

 Tell her she’s gorgeous, even if she looks like the articulated lorry she feels like she’s carrying.

Tell her it suits her.  She might just need to hear that, but don’t comment on the size of the bump, regardless whether it’s big or small.
The Mammy who hears “You’re so neat”, might have spent the whole night up counting baby’s kicks, or panicking that her bump is too small compared to others. 😣

The Mammy who hears “You’re huge!” doesn’t need to be reminded.  Trust me, she already knows. She remembered once she opened her eyes this morning and tried, like an upturned turtle, to get out of the bed to pee. 😅
So keep it positive and keep it off the bump.

 And yes I know that many people don’t mind and maybe even enjoy the attention the bump brings, but unless you’re telling them their bump is gorgeous, just Ssssssh!
And then…THEN comes the Post Baby body Shaming but that’s another post altogether. I’ll save that for Moody-Mum Monday.
Goodnight you #GlammyMammies.
You’re beautiful and your bump is perfect.  That is all you need to hear. 

S-Mum  xxx

I am Still watching RTE Junior Mum!

Posted in blog, children, family, parenting, wine by

​Well.

How was your Friday Ladybelles?
Mine was pretty uneventful and rather enjoyable really.  

We spent the afternoon with my lovely sister and her babies on Walton Mountain.  It was noisy.  GOOD GOD it was noisy, but oh the fun.

They head off again tomorrow and then we shall miss all the noise immensely and be very sad, so today’s noise was precious and wonderful.
I have two cream-crackered little girls tucked up in bed now after all the noise and cousin fun.  
Have you ever been so glad of the quiet when you return to the living room after their bedtime, that you just sit there, staring at the TV…before realising after 10 minutes that you’re watching the “Holy Jesus Thank God it’s over…Right Minions, it’s bedtime!” RTE Junior Screen!?😂


Well that’s what I’ve just done.

Then, this popped up on my timeline and it was OBVIOUSLY a SIGN wasn’t it?


Afterall, it IS Friday. 💙💗
It’d be rude not to!

I don’t have prosecco but non-fizzy grapes will have to suffice.
(And I do have to celebrate as it’s now less than a week until the #LWIBloggies2016 awards, AND

I’ve just found out that a very dear friend is in the Bumpy Way and so I now need to toast her and her inability to drink grape juice for the next few months. More for me! 🍷😉)
So it’s time to turn the Tellybox over to something else, (Yup. The remote is on the other sofa!), and pop open a wee bottle. 😈

Obviously, Mini-Me and Princess shall sleep until at least 9.30am…

Yeah.
My arse!

But you can’t blame a girl for hoping can you?
Cheers Bitcheepoos!🍷

Have a Fablis Friday night and thanks to everyone who is reading and liking and sharing. It means a lot and makes me smile. 😘😘😘