Tag Archives: toddlers

I am Start-getting-organised Mum!

Posted in children, family by

​So it’s time to get organised!
Tonighy, I am too exhausted to be wittiful or funniful, but I do hope to be slightly helpful. 😚
I started using this technique👇👇👇 when Mini-Me began attending Naíonra last year.  
Mornings are very stressful in every house, and while this won’t guarantee peaceful Little-House-on-the-Prairie scenes of family love and  peace and zen, it REALLY helps.
I put her clothes, clean vest, pants and socks in to each one and used the bottom drawer for shoes.  

Now that she’ll be in a uniform, it’ll be the underwear really, and her PE gear will be in whichever day she needs it.  

If you can get them into the habit of putting their shoes in once they are taken off, it saves THE BIGGEST NIGHTMARE each morning…the “GO AND GET YOUR FECKING SHOES!” debacle? (Drives me insane! 😂)
I was desperate to get some calm and routine into our house, so thought it was worth a try.

It was.
It helped HER to take a little bit of responsibility for herself.  🌟

 It helps instil an understanding of the days of the week as well as word recognition. 🌟

  It makes them feel grown up and most importantly, it made ME get organised!😂
For the first few weeks, I was Mary Fricken Poppins on a Sunday night. 😂  It didn’t last long, but I did remain in the habit of making sure that the drawer was full at bedtime each night. 

And it really did make mornings SOOOOOO much more relaxed. (I ALMOST bought one for myself! 😂)
Right now, it’s full of bibs and cloth nappies and God Knows What, but tomorrow we are going to make colourful new labels, because in fairness, compared to these 👇👇👇👇 two aesthetically pleasing examples, my white decorated with a Sharpie attempt (top right! 😣😣) is a bit shite isn’t it? 


So try it!

These drawers are easily found, and already in most homes, and to be honest, sticking labels on the wardrobe or chest of drawers they already have,works just as well!  

 Get them to help you make the labels so they have ownership of the whole project.
Kiddies are clever and love structure.

Mammies are desperate and love calm.
Give it a go and let me know how you find it? Or share YOUR tips for Magically-Mayhem-Free Mornings?
S-Mum 😙

I am Some reality Mum

Posted in children, parenting, swear words, tantrums, Uncategorized, wine by

For anyone who complains that Mummy bloggers portray an unrealistic and ideal life… they’re reading the wrong bloggers.

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Mini-Me has upped her Bitch-game this evening. Seriously, there are teenagers with less attitude.
Am trying to remind myself that “a strong-willed daughter will be a strong woman, able for anything the world can throw at her.” Whatever…

Tonight, SHE threw EVERYTHING at me before bed. Tantrums, crying, huffing, puffing and death stares. She threw herself onto her bed, arm across her face, sighing and declaring dramatically “I am just FED UP.” (Looks through elbow to see if she’s getting required reaction.)

I had to leave the room; Part of me laughing at how hilarious she is, part of me DYING a little inside that I saw myself in front of my own eyes. 😳😳😳
Bad Mammy.
Bad, not-doing-anything-right, setting-seriously-bad-examples, fucking-my-child’s-emotional-responses, opposite-of-positive-parenting BAAAAAAD MAMMY.

Deep breaths. Compose oneself. Remember who is in charge…
(Little voice… “She is. She’s in charge you Crazy Woman…”) 😈

I eventually got her settled, read “The Dinosaur that Pooped the Bed” and tucked her in.
Then I came up the hall to THIS MESS.👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

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I don’t even know where to start, and so I’m ranting to you, my lovely S-Mummies 💖, to avoid it…

And to stop myself from pouring a HUMONGOUS grape-juice. 🍷😂

On a BRIGHTER NOTE… 🌞🌞🌞

I almost puked in public today. 😂😂

Week three of #operationskinnyarse began with the most terrifying and dreaded piece of equipment in the gym…
The mat.
I shit you not. It turns out that the most torturous, challenging, hardcore machine in there is my own fricken bodyweight and a mat.
Who knew?

Hope your Monday was equally as wonderful as mine.
Maybe Winnie the Poop was right! 😂

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Over and out…
🛌🛏🛌🛏

#SMum #Mammyblogger #Mummy #MiniMeAndPrincess #glammymammy #meandmygirls #parentblogger #RealStruggles #reallife

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I am Simple act of Kindness Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, toddlers by

Yesterday, I ran into a lovely young Mammy whose little Princess was born on the same day as my Mini-Me.

We’ve known each other for many years, because once upon a time, I had the pleasure of being her English teacher. (I’m not sure if she would describe her time in my classroom as a pleasure, but that’s my take on it anyway!) 😂
Our two girls are due to start school together in September and will be in the same class.👭

Her daughter, (let’s call her Pretty Curls), is just beautiful; gentle and sweet. ❤

We stopped to speak and as usual when there are kids included in the situation, it was more a direction ro the girls to “Say hello” to each other, rather than a conversation between the grown-ups.😂😂

Mini-Me was having a bad day. She has sore ears, was running a slight temperature and was still in the throes of being completely traumatised after going to her ballet class for a whole 3 minutes before deciding she NEEDED to go home. (That’s another blog…) 😡

Mini-Me and Pretty Curls were eyeing each other up.  Mini-Me spotted a packet of Disney Princess rings in the hands of Pretty Curls and began that incessant “But why does SHE have?/I WANT RINGS” whining that brought the conversation to a close.  I said goodbye and ushered her off to the next aisle, praying she’d calm down. 😢
(She didn’t. She slipped and fell and began to bawl. It was one of those genuine cries that overrides the whining to make Mammy realise that ACTUALLY, she’s NOT being a brat, she feels shitty and is upset at everything and simply needs to be snuggled on the sofa with a big glug or Calpol.)

So we went to pay for the shopping.
The other Mammy and Pretty Curls were at the next checkout.
And then the most beautiful, wonderful thing happened.

Pretty Curls came around to Mini-Me and put out her hand, saying “Here. You can have this.”
In her little hand was one of the rings.👭💍

Mini-Me was delighted and cheered up instantly.
Mammy was gobsmacked. 😮
  It was the sweetest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
There were hugs and smiles and statements like “You can be my best fwend!”

Such a simple, thoughtful gesture of kindness from a 4 year old stopped me in my tracks.
It was adorable to watch.😇
It was humbling.
It was the perfect example of how one, seemingly small, act of kindness can change someone’s whole day.😄
It wasnt small.  It was HUGE. It made Mini-Me  forget her sore ears (until we got home at least!) And it made her happy.
It also made me realise that I need to learn from this Mammy’s lovely example.
She’s taught her little girl to be kind and to be nice.👏

Pretty Curls was able to share her brand new toys with a little girl she doesn’t even know.  She’ll go a long way in life; just like her Mammy.

They’re both fabulous and I couldn’t be more impressed. ❤❤

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I am Seven-ways-to-provoke-my-Threenager Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, tantrums, toddlers by

After a weekend of tantrums and death stares from the Threenager, I decided to write down the things that provoked meltdowns. 
When a friend asked what was up with her, I couldn’t actually pinpoint what had started it.  And so this blog began as an exercise to establish triggers that we could work on avoiding. 
My mission was to try to figure her out. 
My mission was to beat the strop.
My mission, as it turned out, was pretty darn impossible.

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It has however, been informative.  It has made me realise that Mini-Me is quite capable of losing the plot over the most ridiculous things ever. 
Here are just a few that we recorded since yesterday morning…

1.  I called her by her name. 
I kid you not.  Her answer was to scream at me “Don’t call me a THAAAAAAAT!” 
Silly Mammy.

2.  I asked her if she’d like some Brioche... 
Again, “Don’t call it Brioooooooche!”  I have a witness to this one.
Silly Mammy.

3.  I plaited her hair.
She asked for french plaits.  She stood still while I put two perfect plaits on each side of her head.  She even handed me the hair baubles.  Then, she looked in the mirror and screamed “I SAID PONEEEEEEE TAIL!!!” before pulling the pretty plaits out.  I almost cried.
Silly Mammy.

4. I couldn’t find the tiny piece of Blue tac that she insisted on bringing home from school last week.
She decided she “neeeeeeeded” her “best fwend Mr Bluuuutac.”  Cue 20 minutes of crying on the living room floor.
Silly Mammy.

5. There were bubbles in her milk.
Not much to be said here is there?

6.  I referred to her Baby Annabelle as a “Doll” and lifted it by the head…
Silly Mammy?
Seriously woman…

7. I didn’t drive around the roundabout…
Because I was turning left to go home.  But apparently, I should have gone “wound da woundabout!” 
Silly mammy.

You see the pattern?
Of course you don’t,  because THERE IS NO BLOODY PATTERN!!

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So what did I learn?

She is irrational.  She is illogical.  She is slightly crazy. She is completely unpredictable.   She is slightly terrifying.

And there’s no point in trying to figure her out, because if she’s going to throw a strop, it’ll happen regardless of my best intentions to thwart it.

Because she’s three.

And at those times when I want to tear my hair out and I feel like I am absolutely and utterly mental… it’s not me, it’s her!

I am Seven-ways-to-provoke-my-Threenager Mum

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I am Shake-a-bootay Mum

Posted in children, tantrums, toddlers by

On Saturday, I took Mini-Me on what was intended to be the perfect Mother & Daughter day out.
With the recent arrival of her Little Sister, some quality-time was badly needed.  As it turned out, it was more needed by Mummy than by Daughter.

The day was planned out in detail.  We’d been talking about it all week.

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We would go to the hairdresser, then to the shops.
Mini-Me would have sausages and chips; we’d collect the balloons for Princess’s Christening lunch.
Mummy would have coffee in her favourite coffee shop while Mini-Me would sip milk from a cute little milk bottle with a stripy straw.
We’d chitter and chatter, hold hands and skip from shop to shop.
It would be calm, relaxed and blissful.
We would take selfies that wouldn’t look out of place in a glossy mag.
Other mummies would look at us, in our matching coats, and think “Aaaawwww!”

And when it was over, we’d go home to Daddy and Princess and tell them all about Mammy and Mini-Me’s Day of Fun!

What actually happened was that a PMS-Crazed, sleep deprived Mummy took a post-chest-infection, over-tired Threenager into town…in the rain.

AND, there was a full moon…actually there were two.

Said Threenager began her tirade of strops and tantrums in the hairdresser. The angelic Hairdresser managed to trim her hair while I had mine blow-dried.  When she began to protest because she wasn’t allowed to take a toy home from the basket of distractions in the corner, I was hugely grateful that the hairdresser intervened before I had to. She received the quite terrifying dirty looks that only my daughter can throw, but as with all toddlers, fighting with a stranger is no fun, so she conceded.
Only slightly embarrassed, we left, with Mini-Me promising she’d be good for the rest of the day.

She did have sausage and chips… which she ate while glaring at me because I’d committed the crime of stealing a chip.  (I was actually making sure that they weren’t too hot.  Next time, I’ll let her find out for herself will I? NO.  I probably won’t.)

We went to collect the balloons, only to be told that the helium machine had broken before they started my order.   Having no balloons for the christening lunch REALLY wasn’t a drama.  Turns out… trying to leave the shop without balloons, really was a drama. Who knew?  (In hindsight, I’m quite proud that I didn’t give in and buy her a balloon.  Trust me…life would have been easier, but I couldn’t buy treats after the previous strops!)

I didn’t get the yummy coffee in my favourite cafe… their water was off.  Granted, it was a bigger problem for the establishment than for me, but still.  At this point, I imagined myself throwing a tantrum to see how she’d react.  I didn’t.   Instead, we went to a different cafe and I sipped on a crappy cappuccino.

I’d put crayons and a mini colouring pad into my handbag.  She should have coloured in happily while I enjoyed my cuppa.  The first crayon broke. The second one fell under the table and somehow disappeared.  The Threenager refused to drink her hot chocolate until I told her that that made me happy because I’d drink it after my coffee.
I got 30 seconds of quiet time while she made sure Mammy couldn’t have it…
She drank it in one go.

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I stared ahead, praying that the smell of the coffee would calm me down, cursing the full moon (I swear by this by the way!) and wondering if 4pm was too early to think about a glass of wine.

At this point, Hubby rang.  I should really have listened to him and gone home there and then, but I had to pop into one other shop to return a dress.
Big mistake.
Huge.

I was flicking through a rail of dresses to find my size.  Mini-me was at my side, humming to herself.
She stopped humming.
I glanced down to her.
Instead of her cheeky but adorable face, I saw her bare backside… wiggling in the air at me.
She sang “Shake-a-bootay! ” as she shook it.

Full moon.

Total eclipse.

I actually screamed.
My response was to pull up her tights and knickers and to fix her skirt, frantically whispering “You CANNOT do that!”
And then I left the shop, with Skinny Arse running behind me.  I kept walking until I reached the car.  All the while, Mini-Me was at my heels, repeating “Mammy? Mammy?”  She was undecided as to whether she should be crying or throwing a tantrum.  Her Threeness was suspicious of my lack of scolding.  I think she was experiencing that fear that we all remember from when we were kids and Mother gave us the look.

In reality, I was mortified.  I was annoyed that I’d taken my eyes off her long enough for her to commit the offence…and I was trying not to let her see me laughing!

As I strapped her in to her car seat, I asked her why she’d pulled down her tights in the shop.
Her answer?
“I just quite did.”
And that’s as good as I’m going to get.

We drove home.
It was getting dark.
There was a full moon.

Another one.
This time, in the sky.
And it turns out, it wasn’t too early to think about wine.
When Hubby heard about our lunar fiasco, he opened the bottle for me!

I am Shake-a-bootay Mum

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