I am September Adjustment Mum

It’s September.

As we all struggle to settle into the craziness that is “routine” with our kids and lives and activities and commitments, we are more susceptible to Mmmy Guilt than ever.

These weeks can be overwhelming for our kids, but guess what?  We are allowed to be overwhemed too.

While most of us are glad of the return to routine, that doesn’t mean it’s a walk in the park.

Adjustments are needed and it takes time to find your groove, so allow yourself the transition time.  It’s not just kids who need to adjust.

And sometime, we are using OTHER people’s measuring sticks to gauge our OWN achievements and failures.

So what IS the Perfect Mum?

 

Baby-wearing Mum, Carry her Mum,

Co-sleeping Mum, Cot-sleeping Mum,

Bedroom of his own Mum,

Still in my bed when she’s 4 Mum,

Who cares as long as he sleeps Mum?

A Disposable Nappy Mum,  Cloth-Nappy Mum,

Dodee Mum, Suck the thumb Mum,

A  baby monitor Mum, Check her twenty times Mum,

Camera in the bedroom Mum,

I’ll hear him if he calls Mum,

Baby-lead weaner Mum, Organic food only Mum,

Puree it myself Mum, Buy it off the shelf Mum,

Feed them anything Mum,  He won’t eat it anyway Mum,

Fish finger Freezer Friday Mum,

Leftovers in my tum Mum

Always positive parenting Mum,

Doing it all in heels Mum,

Never tell them No Mum

Child is in control Mum

Boundaries help them Grow Mum

Nurture them and Love Mum

Ask patience from above Mum

Shower him with kisses Mum,

Temper is in pieces Mum,

Cherish every second Mum,

Will bedtime ever come Mum,

Reading her a story Mum

Playing with his toys Mum

Letting her be bored Mum

Cuppa always cold Mum

Helicopter or Lawnmower Mum?

Let them fall and run Mum,

Breastfeeding Mum, Bottlefeeding Mum,

Whatever as long as they’re fed Mum.

Screaming and exhausted Mum,

Need a shower and pee Mum,

Calm and zen and ‘Got this’ Mum

Stay-at-home with kids Mum,

Go to work, Work from home,

Have to pay the Bills Mum,

Married, single, step-mum,

Co-parenting, need some help Mum,

Foster mum, adopting mum,

Holding on to friends Mum.

Trying Mum, Lost one Mum,

Wish with all my heart for one,

Happy mum, Sad Mum,

Frustrated at myself Mum,

Crying mum, Laughing Mum,

Fitting everything in Mum

Mum Buns, Mum Tums,

Stetchmarks, hormones and Bumps Mum

Afterschool, Sports and Pool, Taxi everyone Mum,

Homework Fun, Housework Done

Trying my best every day mum.

Kids come first,  Mum’s the worst,

Will this bubble ever burst?

Give your kids the love they need

And to the labels give no heed…

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Say what now?

 

I could keep going.

Mums are amazing.  We manage to be many of these Mums at once, but NO ONE can be all of them.

If you are putting yourself under pressure to fit a label that doesn’t fit you, cut it off.

As long as your kids are loved and fed and cared for, you’re doing just fine Mum.

It can’t be perfect all the time, neither can you. But remember that usually, the flaws you see in yourself, are only seen by you.

To your kids, YOU are their Perfect Mum.

And I am the perfect Mum for MY kids…even if you don’t agree with how I do things.

I am Show Me Show Me Mum

What we see...

Mammy had a lovely relaxing morning. Mammy had time to meditate, do yoga, have a shower, and do her makeup and hair. The children were angels. Mammy had all the clothes chosen, ironed and laid out beside the children’s shoes and clean underwear, before she went to bed at 9.30pm (where Mammy read her selection of Wellness and Good Parenting manuals in an attempt to ensure that she was indeed giving her children all of the positive assurance and interweb proven behavioural techniques possible to ensure that they will grow up rounded and functional humans.) The children ate ALL of their healthy and nutritious breakfast, packed their bags and put on their own coats before carrying their respective bags to the car (must encourage responsibility you know. It says so on page 34 of Clever Mammy Manuals) #clevermammy

Mammy was calm and chilled as she sipped her herbal tea and created Michelin Style breakfasts, not forgetting to snap pics for Instagram to make sure everyone could see how easy it was to eat exciting, colourful food all the time. Mammy was on time and no one needed to rush or shout or be stressed. The very good little girls sang nursery rhymes in the car while Mammy listened to them lovingly, smiling and wishing that she was able to capture this moment of Mummy perfection on her phone too, so she could show the world just how fabulous and perfect her morning was. She dropped the children at school and drove on to her wonderful job, already excited to get home to her spotless home and enjoy her little ladies in the evening. What a wonderful morning. Life is good. #soblessed #youseewhatIshowyou

What we don’t see.

Mammy got up at 6.30am, wishing she’d gone to bed earlier instead of sitting up with Hubby watching another episode of Stranger Things on Netflix. She showered quickly, ignoring her hairy legs in favour of washing her face, made her coffee, made the lunches, packed the bags, found the shoes, dried the uniform cardigan, remembered it was PE Day, found the kit, tumble-dried it, put on a load of washing, woke the kids, negotiated with the Oldest, bribed the youngest, dressed one of her girls in the tumbledried kit, (hoping that her body heat would flatten the creases before she got to school,) while singing the “Will you get dressed please” song over and over and over at the oldest, drank one mouthful of the cold coffee, swore a little under her breath, screamed at oldest to EAT SOMETHING off the plate, proffered Coco-Pops as bribery, cursed her own weakness, put nappy BACK on the baby, put clothes back on the baby, searched for PE runners, took the box of Quality Street from the Baby, wondered WTF she had found them, remembered to grab her own gym bag, put the lunches in the bags, packed the car, put the coats on her children, (because who the fuck has time to watch a 2 year old zipping up their own coat at 8am?), fed the dog, turned off all the lights, set the alarm, locked the house, strapped them in their carseats, swore at the straps and then swore (again) to buy a new carseat once she gets paid, ran back inside, unset the alarm, grabbed her handbag and coat, set the alarm, locked the house, nearly ran over the Horsedog, drove to school thinking about what she needed to do today, tried to hear herself think over the noise of the cat fight in the back seat where the youngest is repeating EVERYTHING the oldest says and driving her insane! “Stop it!” “DOPIIIT” “SHE’s COPYING MEEEEE” “SHEEEtoppeeeeeemeeeee!, turns on radio to distract, listened to Despacito being murdered by oldest, arrived at childcare, took girls and all their bags out of car, put coat back on the baby, told Oldest to lift her coat off the ground as she walked, tripped over oldest’s coat, kissed and hugges both girls singing Cheery “See you Later” and “Have fun at schooooool!” and “Mammy loves youuuuu!”, wondered if she’d have time to go to the shop enroute to buy the earlier proferred CocoPops, stopped at shop, did a dash around grabbing things she remembered she needed, remembered a bag as she approached the till, drove to work and parked the car, went into the staffroom, made a cup of coffee and drank it, sighed as she remembered that she hasn’t brushed her hair and that the washing is still in the machine and will need redone this evening, but other than that, what a great morning. Life is good!

#reallife #youdontseethatthoughdoyou

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Seriously!? Look at the hair! 🙂

I know which one I am.

And I’d rather have the chaos and craziness of my normal any day, than live under such notions of perfection that I see my life as a fecking TV Show.

Be real and Be you. You’re better to be a Mammy who knows she needs to shout less and that she really should try to iron her children’s clothes sometimes and that some mornings will be smoother than others, than one who lives under the pressure to seem “perfect” to the virtual friends and followers in your virtual life. Perfect is my kids safe, healthy and fed and loved.

Great mornings are the ones that keep coming. Enjoy them. They’re perfect already, just like you. And you don’t need Social Media to tell you that.

The S-Mumgreatmornings

I am So I’m a Career Mum (again)

Rejoice! Rejoice!

It is Friyay…the FIRST Friyay after a FULL week of school and work and routine. And we have all survived. (albeit just about, but survived we have.😂)
We may be frazzled and fooked Mammies, but still we must find the energy to REJOICE in the Fact that we have made it to the MOST wonderful evening of the week. 😆

This week, after two years of maternity leave, unpaid leave and jobsharing, I have finally dipped my toe back into the world of being a Full-time Mammy with a full-time Job. What have I learned? Nothing. But I have remembered MANY things; Things that I had battered down, suffocated and locked in a tattered old box at the back of the memory part of my subconscious, but which now bounce back to the forefront of my ridiculously tired little mind. 😐

Tired Children:

Tired children are cranky.
Tired children like to find a reason, ANY reason, to cry.
Tired children do not KNOW that they are tired.
Tired children refuse to admit that they are tired.😥
Tired children will bite one another.😠
Tired children do not like to go to their beds, regardless of how tired they are.
Tired children like to wake up at 2am and play with their toys, with the light on, noisily enough to waken everyone so that they have someone to tell that they are NOT tired.
Tired children do NOT like to get dressed in the morning.
Tired children do NOT like it when you bounce into their bedrooms at 7am singing “Good Morning, Good Moooooooorning!, opening curtains and declaring that it is time for school. (Especially the not tired children who have been up half the night playing with their fecking toys.😈)
Tired children like to say “No” and “No” and sometimes, “Noooooo!” to absolutely EVERYTHING that Tired Mammy asks or suggests.

And along with tired children, comes the Tired Mammy. But as well as being a tired Mammy, Mammy ALSO has to be SUPER-ORGANISED Mammy.
Mammy needs to keep on top of the fridge situation.
Mammy needs to pack lunchboxes and school bags and afterschool bags.
Mammy needs to remember the fecking HORROR that is HOMEWORK.
Mammy needs to think about dinners sooner than when she opens the fridge at 6pm.
Mammy needs to set her alarm to make sure she gets out of bed 30 minutes before everyone else if Mammy wants to pee, shower and have a coffee all by herself.
Mammy needs to be an intelligent and functioning adult.
Mammy needs to rid her brain of references to Peppa Pig and Andy and Bing because they are not relevant to Macbeth and teenagers do NOT respond well to them.
Mammy needs to try to keep the washing basket from puking and Mammy needs to arrange everyone’s clothes before bedtime.
Mammy needs to remain relatively Wifely and interesting enough to hold a brief conversation with Tired Daddy when he comes home from Jim.
And Mammy needs to get used to wearing stupid heels and muckup every single day. (I’ll last until the end of September…)
Mammy needs to cram all of the Mammying and playing and cuddling and scolding and fun into 3 hours in the evening, while being JUST as tired as her beloved Tired Children who are determined to PUNISH her tired ass for abandoning them in school and creche. (Even though they both LOVE where they go and actually CRY when they are collected.)
Mammy can not have grapes or gin during the week… 😛😛
Mammy struggles with balancing the Mammy guilt when she’s away from the girlies, and the urge to sell them on ETSY when she’s spent an hour being screamed at and cried at by her Tired Minions.

Mammy can’t win.

In conclusion. Mammy does INDEED need to rejoice that she has made it to Friday night, has the tired minions in bed, her feet up and the grapes poured. 😂And now Mammy needs all of her Lovely Supermums to say Hello and remind her of what I have been missing while abandoning you all this week while trying to keep 286 plates spinning without falling off her heels and onto her poor, muck-uped, Mammy-guilty face.

Cheers Bitcheepoos. xxx

It is Feck-it-up FriYay and Mammy has done a wonderful job of fecking ALL of it up today. 😂

Mammy has been asked some very difficult questions today.

In the car, enroute to the paint shop… (because Mammy has realised she is going back to her OTHER full time job in 3 weeks and so doing all of the jobs I have put off for the past 2 years must obviously begin! 😂)

“Mammy, When are you going to die?”
Mammy chokes… “Not for a very long time I hope!”

“Are you going to die before me?”
(Christ alive I do hope so!) Erm, yes Baby, because I’m older, but not for a verrrrrrry long time.

“But who will look after me when you die?”
You’ll be all grown up by then pet. Now let’s talk about something else. What will we have for tea?

“Are Rhinocerouses dinosaurs in real life?”
Erm… No, sure the dinosaurs are all extinct and rhinocerouses are still alive…
“Nocerouses do NOT STINK Mammy. Dat is NOT very nice.”

“Where is Heaven?”
(Feck it.) “Do you not think rhinocerouses stink then?”
“Mammy! Answer me. WHERE is Heaven?”
(Fuckitty fuck fuck fuck…)
“Erm… Some people say it’s above the clouds. Some people say it’s all around us. I’m not really sure…”

“Can I bring my stuff wif me when I go?”
“To Granny’s? Of course!” (Phew!)
“No Silly, to HEAVEN!” (I can feel her rolling her eyes in the backseat.😅)

“So do you just go to sleep and wake up in heaven then?”
Sometimes… Baby these are very hard questions to answer and you really don’t need to be thinking about thisstuff today. Now, what will we have for tea tonight?”
DISTRACT, DISTRACT, DISTRACT… 😂😂

“Mammy?”
(Oh God get me to the paint shop…)

“How do giraffes lie down?”

Alleluia!
I can’t answer THIS obviously. (Is it even a valid question?) But I CAN revert to my favourite answer “I don’t know, but we can look it up when we get home OK?”

And at least if we DID look it up, there’d probably BE an ACTUAL answer! Unlike the other questions.

Who said we should tell our kids the truth?
WTF do you do when you don’t KNOW the answers?

And even if I DID google them, there’s a pretty good chance I still couldn’t give her answers. 😂😂

So yup. Add a “Friday-Fablis-Freezer-dinner” to my USELESS attempts at answering her questions and you’ll see that it wass INDEED a successful Feck-it-up Friday.

Therefore, Mammy feels that it is utterly acceptable and justifiable to pour some grapes… 🍷🍷🍷

How did you Feck-it-up today? 😚😚

Oh and YES I googled it…

http://www.express.co.uk/news/nature/784457/April-the-giraffe-how-do-giraffes-sleep-standing-up-lying-down

I am Shopping & Obituaries Mum

(Read in the voice of Mr Donal K – him off the radio box.)

The death has taken place of Mr Hot Point and Mrs Dy Son at their home on S-Mumble Hill.

Mr Point died yesterday evening after a long illness. It was thought after 3 months of symptoms and complaining, that he was suffering from Man-flu and that he was indeed immortal. Turns out, not so much.

His wife, Mrs Dyson was so shocked by her husband’s passing that she died suddenly, only a few minutes later, in the arms of her loving housemaid, Mrs RU Fecking-Joking.

The Coroner, a very nice man called Mr Dom Appliances, sadly declared both dead early this morning, despite attempts to resuscitate Mrs Dy Son. They are survived by their aging son, Mr Dumble Drier, who won’t be long behind them by the looks of things.

Removal this evening, courtesy of Irwin’s Removal Lorry for deceased appliances.

No flowers please. Donations in lieu to the Support fund for Pissed off and Broke husbands, ℅ The Him. They say that things break in threes.

After the battering The Him’s bank account took this afternoon, I’d say THAT counts as number 3… And his wee broken heart is number 4, so we’re done!

On the bright side, I’m finally getting one of the fanciful hoovery yoks that stick on the wall. The Him shall have clean clothes and a spotless house, EVERY DAY from now on… well, until the novelty wears off.

RIP my Friends.