I am Some Things I Once Thought Mum 

10 things I thought before I had kids:
1. I shall never shout at my child:  Oh you will you know.  Actually, it’s more a case of shouting at yourself really, because if you are having to shout at all, chances are that you’ve reached that wonderful stage where the little minions have decided to ignore every single fricken word you say, until you are screaming it at the top of your lungs like a mad woman.  And do you know what else? Even THEN, they’ll probably not listen to you.
2. I shall love my child unconditionally always.  Yes,  indeed.  But that doesn’t mean that you have to LIKE them unconditionally or always.
3. I will never have to deal with a tantrum in a shop:  Oh yes you will.  The 30 seconds of your Minion’s meltdown will feel like an HOUR and even though no one is looking at you, you will feel like the entire shop has stopped specifically to watch your little Hell Demon throw his strop.  You will burn a new shade of crimson that you never even considered possible, and you will discover dexterity and wrestling skills that you didn’t know you possessed as you wrangle the wriggler out the door.  And yes, you will growl through gritted teeth and swear that you’ll NEVER leave the house again.
4. I will only feed them healthy, nutritious, organic home-cooked meals:  For the most part, we all manage this one, most of the time…mostly.  But trust me, Freezer Fridays are a thing and Leftovers are a blessing in disguise. I write my weekly meal planner on the fridge most Sundays.  At the beginning of the week, it makes me feel like I’m the bestest Mammy ever.  By Friday, it reminds me of just how hilarious I can be sometimes.😂 But hey!  They get fed don’t they?         Most days.
5. I will never be manipulated by a toddler: Yes, yes you will.  And even when you are using the bribery and blackmail (that you swore you’d never resort to), you’re still being manipulated by the minion.  And this is not reserved for toddlers.  Signs of parental manipulation can appear as early as Day 3 of your baby’s life, when they learn that if they make a certain noise, you’ll react.  And it never ends.  Our kids manipulate us forever… My Daddy loves me most you know. 😉😉
6. I will bath them every night:  Ok, some parents DO manage this one.  If you are a Daily bathermum, I salute you and am in awe.  I NEVER got into this habit.  There are 3 reasons that mine get bathed.

A) It’s the weekend

B) They’re so rotten that I have no choice but to wash them if I want to keep up the facade that I have my shit together.

C) In the event of a Poonami or a Pukenado.
7. I will never swear in front of my children:  Yeah, good luck with that one. 😂 Try not to swear AT your children.  That should be reserved for special occasions, but swear in front of them, you shall. And do you know when you’ll realise it?  When they repeat what you’ve said at full volume in front of the WRONG person, you know, like the local priest or the PHN, or the School Principal, or…a Sanctimammy.  And sometimes, as mortified as you are, you’ll be slightly proud that they have used the expletive in the correct context.
8.No other child is as special as mine:  This one is true.  My children are the most special in the world…to me. 💖💖

 

9.Being a parent can’t be that hard. Everyone does it:  hahahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahah.  Yes, everyone does it. And most of those everyones at SOME point wonder WHY they did!
10. I will never turn into THAT Mammy:  Oh my Darling.  Yes.  Yes you  will.  Every one of us has an inbuilt ability to be THAT Mammy.  You’ll surprise yourself.
I’m sure you could add your own Ladybelles xxx

 

I am Some things I never knew Mum


​Things that no one tells a soon to be Mamma.

Please be aware that this is a NHB  (No holding back) post which may contain TMI for some readers! 😂😂

If you read this and wish you hadn’t, too bad really… But you can’t say you weren’t warned!

The Early Days

1. The first visitors to the hospital will be a blur. I was so out of it on adrenaline and whatever horse tranquilisers they’d given me that my first visitors still talk about how “great” I was… And yet I don’t remember a thing about the first day!

If you have other kids, manipulating the visitors so that your kids and then Grandparents are first in, is a military operation!   Hopefully it will only be your nearest and dearest who come along initially.

Most people are good at knowing that it’s best to wait until Mamma is settled at home before they visit.  There are no rules of course, but in my little rule book, only go to the hospital if it’s one of your closest friends or a close family member.

2. The interruptions:  You’ll just have drifted off to snooze after finally getting your little one to nod off and the door of the ward shall swing open and in comes “The Beeper”.

The Beeper is the little Blood Pressure monitor and fancy trolley the lovely nurses push from ward to ward to make sure you and baby are doing OK.  It looks like Johnny 5 and has a habit of appearing at the most inconvenient times.

Don’t get me wrong.  The nurses have a schedule and have to do their rounds and it’s all in your best interest, but you will learn to loath the Beeper.  But it’s only for a few days and it makes going home to your own bed all the sweeter.

3. Your first toilet trip:  With Mini-Me, I read all the books.  ALL of them! My Darling mother happily answered my questions with brutal honesty.  When I found out I’d be having her by section, my amazing friend told me all about hers in her colourful language.

Having grown up on a farm and having helped out, hands on I might add, with MANY C-Sections on Cows, I felt quite prepared.  I put my faith, my trust and my vulnerable self in the care of the surgeons and all was right with the world.

But NO ONE prepared me for the first toilet trip…when you go for your first pee, apparently it’s normal to feel like you’re being sliced open again without anaesthetic this time!  I swear to God, I thought I was going to die right there on the loo.  It was not pretty.  The pain almost made me puke.

And as if that wasn’t terrifying enough, the first poo is fecking horrendous!  I have it on good authority that it is the same for Mummies who deliver vaginally.  Again, I thought my entire insides were falling out.

I roared so loudly that The Him actually called for a nurse and she had to come in to convince me that no, I hadn’t just passed my bowel and no,  I wasn’t going to die.  But don’t tell anyone.  How undignified and ridiculous right?

4. The Boobs:  Now, for me, this was a big deal.  And I mean Big in every sense of the word.  As a woman of the Fried egg club, to wake up on day three with two bald heads in my bra, was quite the trauma.  I swear to God I looked like Jordan.  I’ve always wondered if I’d like to have boobs… No.  No I wouldn’t .  Thank you.  No. Give me my fried eggs any day.

5. The journey home:  My memory of this one still makes me laugh.  The walk from the ward to the car with your lovely car seat is one of the most surreal experiences of your life.  I hadn’t stepped more than 6 foot to the bathroom in 4 days.

Suddenly I had to waddle my way down corridors, into lifts (oooooh that bump takes on a whole new level of weirdness after a section!), through a lobby (carrying balloons to boot!) and out into the car. It was like running 20feet and then thinking you’re ready for a marathon the next day.

Daddy is grinning like a Cheshire cat while you shall be torn between scolding him for swinging the seat too much when he walks, and holding your ladybits in because they feel like they are about to fall the hell out of you with every step!

Getting into the car is a challenge and then there’s the drive home.  I dare say The Him didn’t go above 40mph the whole way out to the house, because of the precious cargo and of course because of my delicate state.  We both give out about Dooters on the road, but Oh my did he dooter out the road that day!

6. The tears:  Oh tears.  You unpredictable little feckers… They come in waves.  You have NO control over them.  They’ll arrive at the worst times.  And you’ll possibly laugh at the same time because you will have no idea why the hell you’re crying!  But let them flow.  It’s completely normal! I’m still crying over anything and my Baby is 1!

7. The Visitors: While you’ll want nothing more than to see people and introduce your new bundle to your loved ones, bear in mind that your first day or two at home will be exhausting, emotional and terrifying.  If I had been able to pay the midwives to come home with me, I would have.  I remember getting to the house with The Him and the Car seat and being soooooo frightened.  There was no buzzer.  There were no nurses down the hall.  It was just us.  But we were fine.

8. Newborns are actually much more interesting than you ever thought they were.  But here’s the key.  YOUR newborn is interesting. To YOU and your partner .  Don’t be offended if your visitors only start at the baby for a few minutes.  Yes of course they’re interested and of course they’ll think your baby is gorgeous, but while you can watch this little person doing NOTHING for hours on end, to others, it is exactly that…a little person doing nothing!

They don’t see the miraculous progression from yesterday, or that the baby is holding your focus for a few moments longer… or that her grip seems more purposeful.  So don’t get offended that your friends seem to politely stare at the baby for only a few minutes, declaring his cuteness or that she has your eyes, before moving promptly on to some other topic of conversation.  It’s normal.

And be honest, you’ve probably done it yourself many times. Because other people’s babies are not that interesting are they?

9. Lasagne can make you cry:  The gifts and parcels and flowers will come and be hugely appreciated. But the most welcomed and remembered offering to the home of the newborn…is food!  And the best kind of food is something that can be portioned, reheated, frozen or even eaten cold from the casserole dish.  Think curry. Think chilli. Think lasagne.  You never realised how good lasagne tastes.  It’ll make you so happy that may cry tears of joy.

10. You suddenly won’t care who washes your knickers:  Maybe this was just me.  Before I had Mini-Me, the thought of someone else doing my washing would have driven me mad with shame.  Not because there’s anything wrong with my smalls, No!  But I could never have even entertained the thought of my Mum or Mother-in-Law washing them.  And then I got over that VERY quickly. Because the first time I realised that the washing machine was going without me having started it, my initial panic was so overwhelmed by total gratitude that I even surprised myself.  Now, I still don’t like the idea of someone washing my knickers, but for the first few weeks after birth, you really shouldn’t give a damn.

So now you’re home. And you could probably add 10 more things to this list.  Add away Supermums.

I am Soooo Mammarella Mum 😂

​Cinderella.  

You all know her.
The dolly who is a COMPLETE skivvy to everyone in her house and who gets a chance to go to the ball,  but has NO hope of going because of her fecking  To-do list and the constant pile of laundrey and sewing and cleaning and crap that grows and grows and grows, until her Fairy Godmother appears and BibbityBobbetyBoos her ass all the way to the ball.
Cinderella.
Well. Let me introduce you to the modern age Cinderella… 

MAMMARELLA.
The modern generation of Queens who sometimes get a chance to go to a fancy ball, but who wonder HOW THE HELL it’s going to happen because of the same reasons as Cinderella…being general skivvies, having to organise EVERYONE else in the house beforehand, and fecking  to-do lists that would knock poor Cinders off her glass slippers. 
On Monday, knowing that we had a super busy week ahead, but happy that it was going to end at a wonderfully glamorous affair, I took a breath and it was all systems go! 
THIS Mammarella however,  ain’t got no Fairy Godmother and so rather than being magically BibbityBobbetyBood from a pumpkin to a Princess, I had to cram a combination of grooming appointments and general maintenance, like you know, showering etc…into my already STUPID schedule.  
Do it I did,  with the help of my own fairies, and I EVEN managed to get my arse mahogonised in a spray booth.  
On Friday morning at 6am, I WAS Cindafuckinrella. 😂

 My To-do list was RIDICULOUS, because as well as making myself appear at the ball looking ALIVE, never mind FABLIS, I ALSO had to sort the minions, make a bed for the Granny, go to my JOB, fit in two meetings cook dinner for everyone else, write out baby routines, and keep everyone alive, pack bags and get to the hairdresser by 5pm….
The day was a whirlwind.

But we got there.

I put lines through that To-do list like an ugly sister on rollerblades.
And when I FINALLY got to the hairdresser, she used magic potions and lotions and turned me from sweaty, dishevelled, skivvy into a slightly #glammymammy. 
I got to the hotel, after being stuck in the most hilarious traffic ever, with ten minutes to spare, titsickle-taped myself into the dress and I was finally ready to go be a Princess.  
And The Him??
How did HE transform himself from a gym-gear wearing servantboy into a Handsome Prince?
He left work, took a shower, stuck on a tux that someone HANDED to him in a bag, and Bibbity Bobbity Boo! Turns into James Fecking Bond… 😲😲😂

But then he won and after all, he WAS the reason I got to pretend to be a Princess for a night wasn’t he?
Actually, Princess my arse… this Mamma Bear was a Queen for the evening. 

😂😂😂
So yes, Mammarellas.

Cinderella doesn’t have a CLUE! 😂😂😂
Wait until she has 2 minions and a Him to get out the door! 😙

I am So Eating the Chocolate Mum

​Sweet Jebus.
“Mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum MUM MUM MUM  MUM MUM.”
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?”
Insert random, usually COMPLETELY sporadic and unplanned question or statement here.

She doesn’t even have anything of importance to say.

She doesn’t CARE that she hasn’t even thought of what she’s about to say before she starts the 

“Mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum mum MUM MUM MUM  MUM MUM.” 

The only two things she knows at that moment are:

1. Mammy has started to talk to someo6else.

2. Mammy must NOT talk to someone else while I am in the room.
It’s exhausting.

And sometimes, depending on WHO mammy is DARING to have a conversation with, it’s ridiculously embarrassing.
I can handle a class of 28 teenagers, but I have NO CONTROL over a 4 & 3/4-er…

Shoot me now…
The two pictures below, top and tail the evening I’ve just had with my Mini-Me.
The first picture is about 44 minutes before THE BEDTIME FROM HELL that has lead to #operationskinnyarse being thrown THE FECK out the window, just for tonight. (Image 2…not cropped to hide grapejuice.)😉😉😉


The lovely Samantha @nappiesandlattes brought her this lovely Princess Bubbles last night. (non-alcoholic of course, although I would seriously consider throwing some gin into it right now…)
She ate all of her dinner, even AFTER a birthday party so The Him popped it, making a nice wee fuss over her and giving us a really sweet Mummy and Mini-Me moment.
 45 minutes later, both of us are screaming, both of us are in tears and BOTH of us are ready to freak the hell out.

Why!?

Because BOTH of us THINK we’re the alpha female of the group and BOTH of us need to learn to calm the feck down.

We’re as bad as each other and I have no one to blame but myself…and of course The Him.  Because she has HIS temper… she OBVIOUSLY doesn’t get her headstrong stubborness from me now does she?

All Him.😀
And so now, it’s finally quiet, I had a good old telemobile rant at my Buddy “Rainbow” and The Him bought me a bar of chocolate.

NEVER underestimate the power of dialling a number to another Mammy Bear. You can say ANYTHING and swear as MUCH AS YOU LIKE, and they’ll just sit on the other end of the line nodding their heads and agreeing with you and saying things like “Mmmmhmmmmm” and  “Oh I hear ya!” and so you don’t fell quite so shittiful or USELESS as a parent.
So there.

That is how quickly things can escalate, or indeed disintegrate when you have a tired Mammy and a tired Minion in a room.  

The smiles in the first picture are real, but so are the tears.

I just don’t have a picture of those.
And the chocolate bar is also real, so Over and out Bitcheepooos!
I have some slabbering to do… 😘😘😘

​It’s here.
It’s horrid.

But, like everything, it’s happening whether I like ot or not, so I have to pull up my “Big Girl” knickers and get over it. 😂💗😂
It’s the night before I finally add “outside of the hoouse” work to all the “Stay at home Mum” work I already do.  

Over the past week, more than a few people have said things like “You’ll be glad to get back into routine”, “Sure you’ve been off for AGES,” and even “It’ll give you something to do again”.  It seems to be assumed that being at home with two kids is simply an extended holiday; easy peasy.
What people often forget is that when a Mammy (or Daddy indeed) goes back to work, none of the “SAHM” work goes away.  

It just gets ADDED to. 

The cooking, cleaning, washing, shopping, surviving… It’s simply condensed into LESS TIME.😥😥
And that’s before the playing, teaching, growing, reading, and loving that our kids need from us.
Being a SAHM is hard work.

Working AND being a Mum is hard work.

Because, technically, we’re both.  Although we go out to another building to do our jobs for a few hours a day, we’re still also Stay at home Mums, because Mums NEVER switch off! 
My Mum has been a SAHM for 35 years.  She’s the hardest worker I know and her “career” was and still is,  us.  

She never got a sick day. She rarely even gets a “Her day”.  

Her salary?

 Slobbers and smiles and a few successful “Proud Mammy” moments along the way. 😅😍😍

  Each of us owes who we are and what we’re achieving every day, TO HER, WORKING to be everything we needed.  She’s raised 6 of us and is now helping us to raise OUR babies.  She might not have had to answer to a boss or fill out paperwork or wear a uniform, but she left her job to do THE single most important job in the world…full time.
And while I would give ANYTHING to give my girls the same dedication and security, I can’t.

 That’s just life. 
I know from my short maternity leaves from my job, how absolutely heart wrenchingly lonely being a SAHM can sometimes be.  When the only conversation you’ve had in a day was with a grumpy, tantruming toddler or a Babby whose vocabulary stretches only to “Dadada”; when you answer Mr. FECKIN TUMBLE, OUT LOUD; 😅 (admit it Ladybelles, we’ve ALL done it!), then you know the importance of companionship, of colleagues, of friends.
I can’t imagine what it was like for Mums before social media etc. 

 One of the few things I am genuinely looking forward to is spending some time with my colleagues. 

I’m lucky to work with real friends. They’ve stayed in touch and kept me included in the year I’ve been off.  For that alone, I’m blessed.
My biggest fear tonight is how my Brain is going to cope with all the EXTRA stuff: the new routine, the work, the prep, the marking, the stress, the Mini-Me at Big school, the tiredness, the THINKING.  How I’m going to FIT all of that, (even though it’s what I’ve done for 15 years without a thought! ), into my head on top of the mayhem of our Crazy frog lifestyle as it is, I DO NOT KNOW.
And yet I will.

(There may be a grape shortage in the next 6 months, just to warn you! 😅🍷)
By tomorrow night, I’ll feel like I was NEVER away. I know I’ll soon get back into the swing of things. I’ll manage, like every Mummy with a job does.

  I’ll feel guilty every day. I’ll hate leaving.  I’ll have days where I function on no sleep.  I’ll have days where I’m at work wishing I was at home with my girls.  I’ll constantly remind myself that I’m working for THEM; because reality doesn’t allow me to stretch this precious maternity leave for even another day.


So while I spend most of today sobbing like a twat everytime I looked at Princess and Mini-Me, I also had a lovely day with them.  The Him even took a bit of time away from Jim to join us. 🕵 Jim is probably huffing tonight, but SOMETIMES Crazy,  Highly emotional Wife is more important! 😂😂
We spent a blissful afternoon at Oakfield Park, visited lovely friends and then I came home and burned the dinner while Princess found a marker and drew ALL OVER HER FECKIN FACE! 😣😣😣


So yes, a significant but pretty normal day really…
Finished obviously with a little tipple, to celebrate having had the chance to be a SAHM for even a while, and to make myself feel a little bit bloody better about going back to my “other job” tomorrow.
Bubbles it is.

Cheers to the working parents, both in the workplace and in the home. 

You’re FABLIS. XXXXX 
SAHM 😙😙