I am Some Knickertwisting Fiction Mum

Once upon a time, in an imaginary faraway land, (NOWHERE near Mammy’s house), a COMPLETELY fictional little 5 (and a half) year old girl went for a sleepover to her Hypothetical Granny’s house.

As she was getting dressed the next morning, she showed Granny her new “Big Girl” pants which her very lovely Mammy had bought her, just that week. 😲 She proceeded to put them on and then turned to grab her jeans, giving Granny quite the eyeful.

“Fictional little girl, why have you pulled your pants up between your bumcheeks?” asked a bewildered and bemused hypothetical Granny. “Because they are my Big Girl Pants and Big girls wear their pants up high like this, the same way Mammy wears dem,” answered the fictional little girl, quite matter-of-factly, as if Granny was the silliest hypothetical Granny in the world.😂

The fictional little girl’s fictional Mammy was slightly mortified by the fictional daughter’s “revelations” and only thanked her lucky stars that fictional Granda had been spared the episode, as he was at mass, praying for his good and moral children and their offspring.

*All characters and events are completely fabricated and fictional. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is utterly coincidental and accidental.

(And No, The fictional Mother DID NOT buy thongs for her fictional Daughter. They were perfectly acceptable and respectable undergarments, quite suitable for a fictional 5 (and a half) year old.) 😂😂

I am Snapping Instagranny Mum

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…

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

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.”

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?🍷

I am “She told the truf” Mum

I don’t “hate” many things, but I can not STAND liars.
I’ve been bitten by enough serial liars in my life to know that liars are septic and that my girlies will:

1. Know that it is bad to lie (eventually!…like by the time they’re 12?)

2.  Know that liars ALWAYS get caught out (eventually!) 😉

3. Be able to spot a serial liar at 100 paces. 

But riddle me this Bitcheepooooos.
How and when are we supposed to teach them that lying is wrong, when we so regularly ask it of them? 

Public facilities.

Me: “Oh God there’s no toilet roll. God these toilets are pretty rotten. They could do with a rub.” (Pulls tissues from bag)


Me: “We’ll tell the nice man outside that there’s no toilet paper in these toilets.”


“Ok. Pull up your shorts now and we’ll wash our hands.”

Her: ” Is it time for icecream yet?”
Step outside to find Daddy in carpark.  Meet nice steward/staff member.
Me: “Hi. There’s no toilet roll in any of the ladies toilets…”

Her: “Them toilets are JUST ROTTEN!”

Me: (squeezing her hand and hissing Sssssssh!) 

Him: (not hearing her) “No bother love. I’ll get that sorted…”

Her: (louder) Scuse me Muster.  Them toilets needs a good wub. They’re honkin…”
Him? No idea. I actually dragged her sanctimonious little bum across the carpark as quickly as I could go, calling “Thanks a million” cheerily over my shoulder.
And of course, I scolded her for speaking to the man and started on my “You don’t speak to adults like that” tirade.
And she of course, looked up at me with her big blue innocent eyes and said “But sure I was telling the truf Mammy. Look my tongue isn’t black or nuffin?” 😑😑
Case closed.

She was right. 😂

So yes, riddle me this…

How the hell do we expect them to learn how to tell the truth, but only when it doesn’t involve being rude?
It’s not easy is it?
But I’m sure that by the time she is old enough to “know better”, she’ll be able to tell the difference in the little white lies which have only positive effects on people, and the big fat septic ones.
And the toilets WERE pretty rotten in fairness! 😭😭
How was your Monday? 😘😘😘

I am “So the MAIN the the Baby Books forgot to mention” Mum

For my final instalment of “I am Some Things the Baby Books Forget to Mention Mum”, I shall impart THE most important truths that any Mammy will EVER need to read.  💋
Thousands upon Thousands of Baby and Parenting Books have been written, all offering varying information and facts to expecting parents.   I don’t dismiss them all. Most are afterall, written by experts. 


An expert in parenting I am not.
Of course I bought them when I was expecting Mini-Me.   What benefit did I get from them? 


 I loved reading about the development of my little Bubba each week, looking at pics of what she looked like and imagining my own little alien growing in my belly.  I read every last word of “What to Expect” and drank up all the information…
Forewarned is forearmed isn’t that what they say?😅
But what was the main lesson I learned?  
Well, from the minute you walk in the door of the hospital, anything you have read or researched goes straight out the window, faster than any drug kicks in.  

You are not in control. 
Even the most informed and prepared Mama Bear is not fully in control of the birth. Anything can happen. And more shockingly, the second your Baby arrives, any idea that you had about being in charge or in control, disappears instantly.
All the plans and informed decisions about routine, feeding, changing, habits, EVERYTHING, become memories as your little one takes you on a journey.  
THEY are driving.  They are in charge.  What they need, you give them. Where you are going, is on an adventure, blind as feck and having no idea where you’re heading.  And on this adventure, there is no room for BS Bibles.  
So while maternity books and guides are necessary (first time anyway!), it’s the parenting books that I have issue with.  Why?  Because they often create unachievable goals and, like everything, they suggest that if you are not doing things they way the book outlines, that you are failing.
So what are the only things that EVERY PARENT needs to know?

1. Follow your instincts


2. You’re ALREADY doing a great job.
“Sleep when the baby sleeps”…Yeah right.

“Baby should eat at x hour intervals”… Newsflash. Baby will eat when it’s hungry.  He’ll let you know.

“Bath your baby every night”; feck off

“Don’t start them on solids until”… yeah, whatever. 

“Your Baby should be…”  Let me finish this sentence off for you…
Your Baby should be fed and loved.  THAT is all. 
And whether you breast-feed or bottle-feed, wear your baby or push him, co-sleep or cot, in your room or nursery, use pampers or mamia, Baby led wean or…just wean, dodee or not,  IT DOESN’T MATTER.
How you care for your minion is YOUR business.  
If you need help or advice, ask for it.

If you feel that something is wrong, follow your gut and don’t be dismissed by anyone.

If you look at other parents and think they’re better than you, stop comparing yourself.

If you look at other parents and think you’re better than them? Get the fuck over yourself.


SO there.
Follow your instincts, Do what’s right for you, and most importantly, even covered in puke, stinking like a chicken coup because you haven’t showered in 3 days, jibbering from lack of sleep and riding the hormonal rollercoaster, You’re already doing a great job.
You’re brilliant and your minions wouldn’t have you any other way.
You’re THEIR world.  You’re all that they know.  You are all that they need.  You are enough…
They don’t need a book to tell them that… neither should you.💙
Some days will be chaos on a plate.  Others will be jigsaws and giggles.💖💖

Whichever it is in your house today, Keep ‘er lit Mama Bear.

 You’re fablis xxxxxx