Pop A Troll?

The pair of them are on the sofa, trying and failing to navigate some Paw Patrol videos on YouTube, while I work at the kitchen table.


I’m making an effort to let them do a bit of “surfing” as I genuinely do worry that my 1980s approach to technology is possibly going to leave them completely inept when the rest of their classmates are flying through tinterweb. Honestly, mine can use the tellybox remote, but that’s the height of scrolling here.

They’re on the search bar and Mini-Me is trying to type in what they’re looking for…It’s PAW PATROL! She starts to spell P…A…Princess (who is ALL about pretending she has a CLUE how to spell right now), interrupts:


“Pah – awww – pap” (pause for effect)

“Aaaaaaaaa”

“TROLL”.

“POP A TROLL…”

Sorry what now?

“What are you spelling Darling?” I ask. “Paw Patrol” she answers. There’s that look again. The one that is now daily occurrence. The ‘Seriously Mammy how do you NOT know this’ look.

“Say it slowly for me?” I’m trying not to laugh.
“Pop A Troll”

Aaaaaah OK. SO it seems that the cartoon that has been constantly on our tellybox and with which her bedroom is literally filled, has in HER head been called “Pop a Troll…”

I don’t think I’ll bother trying to explain this one. It’s too cute and now I can not unhear it!

Kind of reminds me of realising that Coronation Street was not in fact Corn Nation Street and that Emma Dale was not an actual person.

Sorry Whodeewhat now?

“OK girls… movie time!” (because if I have to intervene in your fucking 387th row of the day, I may SCREAM.)

Mammy reaches for her phone to rev up the beloved Disney Plus, excited already about the inevitable peace and joyfully joyful quiet that Mammy will now experience for approximately 90 minutes.

I’m planning a cuppa and a sneaky Double Fecker/insta scroll in the tillyday room and am already relaxing in thoughts of imminent calm that is about to be magiced via Disney Plus into my home…

“We’re not allowed Disney Plus!” announces Princess, wide eyed and deadly serious.

“Of course we are. Don’t be silly!” I laugh.

“No She’s not EVEN Lying like Mammy. It’s banned for the rest of the week…”

“Says who?” I demand.

I’m bemused. I’m confused…I’m slightly terrified…

“Says Daddy!” says Princess, still wide eyed and suddenly so fecking virtuous and obedient that it’s OBVIOUS that she will NEVER be coerced into betraying The Daddy.

“Since when?” Mammy is seriously wondering if I blanked out and missed thiat particular row, but in fairness, every day is merging into the next at the minute and I gave up on listening to every single conversation in mid April.

“Since the last night when we were up really late and SHE wouldn’t get out of my room” admonishes Mini-Me, obviously not ready to forgive Princess. “He says it’s banned for the full week…”

Shit.

“Ok I’m sure Daddy didn’t mean a full week. Hang on until I call him to check.” I grin through gritted teeth. My palms are a bit sweaty to be honest. I’m panicking a little… just slighly jittery at the prospect…

A week without Disney Plus? Has he lost his fricken MIND?
I go to the other room and pretend to ring Daddy.

I don’t, for he is back in his office this week, being busy and stressed, and so it’d be unfair of me to ring him now to discuss… because obviously the DISCUSSION would consist of me launching into something along the lines of “WHATTHEFUCKiswrongwithyoubanningDisneyFeckingplusforafullfeckingweek? ARE YOU MAD? It’s OK for you Mr I@m in the Fecking OFFICE all week. YOU don’t have to play waitress and bouncer to these two all fecking day do you!? So I’m SORRY but Disney fucking PLus is NOT being banned for a week, not on MY WATCH. K?”

To which he’d OBVIOUSLY concede and apologise and grovel at his utter silliness and naivity and agree with my decision to reverse the punishment…

So why waste time annoying him right then eh? (I’ll get him again…)

I come back into the room and tell the two minions that Daddy has said that it’s not banned for the week, but just for the day, which is met with rapturous joy and much appreciation for “clever Daddy!”.

Then, The wee doll, who only two minutes ago was fully loyal to Daddy asks, “So what’s on Netflix then?”

I’m either incredibly proud, or absolutely fecked from here on… I haven’t decided yet.


And to be honest, I don’t care. I’m too busy enjoying the calm and quiet. 🙂

I am Screen Time Dinner Mum

“Tut tut. Look at those parents using their phones to distract their child. Tut tut.
Lazy young parents of today. Not able to handle their kiddies in public. Whatever happened to conversation at dinner? Tut tut. In my day… yadda yadda fucking yadda.”

Now. Mammy did not HEAR the actual shpeel of verbal diahorrea that was ACTUALLY coming out of the older couple’s tight-set mouths, but the looks and disapproving glances at our table (and the table beside us might I add) when The Him stuck an episode of “Ben & Bolly” on his phone were more than enough to tell us what they were thinking.😡

Now. I am not one who condones screentime at the table, either at home or in public. And actually, our 6 year old does NOT get to look at a screen when we’re eating. Not a hope… but the twoublemaker? Absofeckinglutely. 😂

The couple Saw a snippet of our day. They saw the 9 minutes where Mammy’s lovely dinner had gone cold as she’d spent her time ensuring that Princess did not launch her plate at Mini-Me’s head or SPILL the glasses of milk all over our dinner.

They DIDN’T see the 2 hours of the girls playing at their Doll’s house and in their bedrooms this morning.

They DIDN’T see the 3 hours of fresh air and exercise in Glenveagh.

They DIDN’T see the 45 minutes of colouring in and general chatter as we waited to order and eat.

What they SAW was the “We need to distract the minion for a few minutes to allow Mammy to finish her food and Daddy to order a coffee trick” that most parents turn to as a last fecking resort when their Knackered child has reached their quota of sitting and behaving like a good little girl.

I’m sure they meant no harm. I’m sure they’re lovely. I’m sure they would never have allowed it. Whatever.

Did it bother me? Eh…no! 😂 But I’m pretty sure it might have bothered another Mammy. This Bad Mammy Wagon seriously considered letting her watch another 3 episodes so I could order another glass of grapes. 😂 I didn’t. Cos see, that WOULD MAYBE have been cause for the tutters to tut.

I finished my Yummy dinner. We drank our coffee and we turned off the EBSD. (ElectronicBabysittingdevice)

Then we drove our fed, watered and quite relaxed wee family home.

And we didn’t give a tut what the tutters thunked. They didn’t see the full movie you see. They only saw the blooper reel. So really, their review doesn’t matter, does it?

Now.
A glass of grapes on a Sunday night? How very dare I!? Yay!

Happy Bank Holiday Sunday Bitcheepoos.

Any fun for me?
Mammy x

I am So Takeawaying Thursday Mum

Hurray and Woohoo!

Thursday is Takeaway Day.

It’s time for our local Ocras to get their weekly phonecall from me as I lift the girls from creche.

“AsmallkidspizzamealandaportionofplainsausagesplleasheandthankyouJoe”. 

“TenminutesMaria!” (He doesn’t even have to ask who it is.  That’s service for ya!)

And I look forward to it soooooooooooooo much.  Not because I am going to eat it.  No.  This Mammy is back on the wagon and as much as I love Joe’s pizzas, I am being good (during the week anyway!)

No.  I look forward to it for a few reasons.

Mainly because I am still traumatized by the sausages incident of last night.

Secondly, because I don’t get home until almost 6pm if I go to see Jim and my minions will be “Staaaaaaaaarvin Mammy” if they have to wait for me to cook.

Thirdly, because after the generally organised and productive start of the week, I’m running out of gas/petrol/thewilltolive and quite simply can’t be arsed cooking. (reminder to Him, we still need ACTUAL gas too!)

And most importantly, it means happy kids, no dishes and a headstart on my Thursday night Happy Mammy Blitz.

My Thursday Mammy Blitz is class.

No matter how knackered I am, I make Thursday night all about cleaning.

I get the girls to bed, do the washing, clean the sespits that are the bathrooms, mop all the floors and generally leave the place as clean as possible so that when we get home on Friday evening, it is actual down time.  I’ve mentioned it before.  I’ve done it for years. For me, the best thing about Friday evening is coming home and not having to start cleaning and doing housework.  It’s a mess again by Saturday, but hey!  Whatever works eh?

And the ABSOLUTE best thing about my Mammy Blitz, is that my reward for being such a superorganised-notsausageburning-shitMum, is that I get a glass of wine in front of the tellybox before bed.

And now that I have Derry Girls to look forward to on Channel 4 at 10pm, it’s going to be even better.

derry

Ain’t nothing dousing this good mood today.

Now!

Have a good one!

I am Still That Friday Feeling Mum

Mammy has “That Friday Feeling”.

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Once upon a time, “That Friday Feeling” meant going straight to a licensed establishment with one’s co-workers for a bevvy or beverages. Or it meant finishing work with an air of excitement at the prospect of going home, spending a few hours primping and preening oneself to perfection, trying on 46 different outfits, popping open a bottle of something exciting at 6pm and stepping into high-heels, before going into town with whoever for dinner, or drinks and a boogie.

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It meant not only the excitement of getting out, but also the joy of KNOWING that you could lie on in your bed until whatever time you wished on Saturday morning, before deciding to be very “grown up and sensible” by staying in on Saturday night.

Or you know, getting ready and going out ALL over again!

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Oh, how things have changed.

Now while Mammy does get the odd night out, it is usually prepared for by a spray of dry shampoo, grabbing a top that doesn’t need ironed and a 5 minute slap on of the muck-up; sometimes after the girls have gone to bed, or sometimes my speciality…the one legged Babby-swing, where Princess swings on my leg as I try to apply mascara.

But while I am not going out tonight, Mammy still has “That Friday Feeling”‘; you know the excitement, the relief and the joy? It might be slightly different to what it used to be, but it’s still here… just like me really.

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Me, right now!

Now, “that Friday Feeling” means much more:

  • It means no homework for Mini-Me.
  • It means excitement at the prospect of not having to make lunches for the morning.
  • It means firing the contents of the Freezer into the oven and not feeling one bit bad about it. Call it “Freezer Friday”. They love it!
  • It means no work for 2 and a half days!
  • It means not watching the clock to make sure the girls get to bed before 7.30pm (and some nights, watching the clock to MAKE SURE they are in bed by 7.30pm!)
  • It means a mental switch off from school, where I can allow myself to NOT worry about the notes I need to do, or the copies that need marked.
  • It means knowing that when they are in bed, that I can sit on my arse on the sofa and watch whatever I want, without that feeling of “I should be doing…”
  • It means being able to spend time writing, or reading, or simply scrolling the interweb to watch what other Mammies are doing with their Friday feeling.
  • It means putting on our PJs once we all get home and not feeling one bit bad about it!
  • It means being able to say “yes” if Mini-Me asks to watch a movie at 6pm.
  • It means being able to pour a glass of wine without feeling dreadfully uncouth and Scummy Mummyish for drinking on a school night.
  • fridaywine
  • It means pouring a second glass if I so wish.
  • It means not having to plan out what everyone is wearing before bed.
  • It means not setting an alarm clock…
  • It means a generally happier, more relaxed Mammy, because there is a certain celebration and achievement in the fact that I have made it through the week with all of my Minions and myself mostly in one piece.
  • It’s a joy that is difficult to describe, but Friday evening is absolutely my favourite time of the week. And while it might be different now, it’s just as exciting and it’s much more wonderful as when I was young and free.
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Now, I’m old(er) and not so free, but I’m a better me and I’m exactly where I want to be. So bring on the fluffy socks and grapejuice Ladybelles.

It’s Friday and It’s Fablis.

Have a good one.