Sometimes it’s hard being a Mum. Sometimes it’s really very bloody hard. I mean please don’t get me wrong because I love being a Mum. I love this job, it’s the greatest job in the world and most of the time it can be incredibly fulfilling. But sometimes it is as rough as nails. SOMETIMES you spend each day longing to toss the kids in bed for the night. And SOMETIMES you want to throw something out of the window in a fit of rage. Might be yourself. Might be the kids. Might be the dog who just got under your feet so bad that they knocked you onto the floor and then ate all of the pancakes you just made even though you have a freaking cold and you DESPERATELY wanted to be in bed but you made them anyway coz you know it would make your kids smile. #ATotalLegendForAtLeastThirtyWholeSecondsLol #BloodyDog (more…)
WHO IS THIS TINY LITTLE SASSY PANTS SHOUTING AT ME FOR SNACKS, AND WHERE HAS MY BABY GONE??!! I mean she LOOKS like my baby, smells like my baby, eats me out of house and home like my baby, and certainly still has the hair of my baby (grow dammit, grow!!), but… but… but she is all grown up now. Well, sort of. (more…)
Sigh. The hardest thing about being a mumma, is about experiencing all of that gosh dang mumma guilt. Yep, that all encompassing and irritating as hell mumma guilt. *Shakes fist at the Mumma Gods in the sky*. (more…)
So, Facebook keeps taunting me lately. It keeps showing me all of the images of my sweet little girl from a year ago, when she was still relatively fresh out of the “oven”. Those pics make both my heart and my ovaries explode. Stop it Facebook, Stop it. The longing for my sweetly fresh baby is KILLING ME! (more…)
Right people… Hands up who has a toddler!! *Throws both hands up into the air and shakes them about wildly* And hands up who sometimes thinks that toddlers were ONLY put on this earth to test the absolute frick out of you?!! *Throws hands up in the air SO HARD this time that I fear my arms may disconnect themselves from my actual body* Well, let me tell you a story or two. About the times when the toddler tried to absolutely break me. (more…)
You know what is weird about parenthood? Ok, so once you have kids many, many, MANY things are weird, like what you find under your fingernails in the dead of night. Or whether you should scrub your tongue hysterically … or just swallow … after a baby milk spews in your mouth. #EwNoThanks But those aren’t the weird things that I am talking about. (more…)
Oh my beautiful baby girl. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was excited beyond measure. I imagined who you would be. What you would look like. Who you would grow into. I didn’t know if you were a boy or girl, but I assumed you would be a boy. I don’t know why. So the day we found out that you WERE a girl brought with it a mixture of both excitement and apprehension. Want to read about my pregnancy? Well, check out my Diary of A Crazy Pregnant Lady here. Firstly, I was so excited about what lay ahead. I could picture our future together. The things we would do. The things we could share. One day you will have your own family, your own babies. And I will be there for you, not so much by your side, but to help you whenever and however you need me. Yes, I could see it all the second I knew you would be my sweet baby girl. But I was nervous. Because I knew that life may be harder for you than it would be if you were a boy. That more will be expected of ...
What has happened to my baby? I don’t know where she has gone, but when I went to get her up a few mornings ago I found a little almost toddler type person in her place. One who was howling in rage because her brother is in her cot with her and trying to give her a kiss. A kiss? Who hates kisses? Sigh. #MummaNeedsAffection (more…)
People, people, people. Sighs *shakes head*. I am SHOCKED over here, and I honestly think that my brain is starting to go numb from all of these thoughts about parenthood. Oh, wait… the numbness could just be because I don’t sleep any more due to a toddler who desperately tries to move himself into our bedroom at least 4000 times a night. Yes, but what are you shocked about? You ask. Well, let me tell you, I creepily reply, whilst sitting on the toilet with another tiny person on my lap who has their whole body essentially wrapped around mine. #NoPrivacyEver (more…)
You know whats bloody annoying? When you try and “punish” a child for being a total turdburger #HeIsThreeSoItHappensFrequently, and it stops working. Like, it no longer words at all EVEN though it used to work like a treat. Fark. (more…)
* B L O G T I M E ! *
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So, I have decided that I am going on strike. From cleaning, I mean, which is actually impressive when you think about it because I already try to avoid cleaning as much as humanly possible.
The only issue is, is that so does everyone else in the household. Sigh. .
But I think that’s the problem.
Because cleaning the house we live in from top to bottom is such a HUGE task, that is is actually quite overwhelming to think about doing it all on my own…
But I shouldn’t really be doing it all on my own should I? Hell to the nope. .
And even though I want help, I have lately been noticing something that has made me semi uncomfortable. Something that makes me think that we have been setting the wrong example for our kids so far. .
And that thing is that my daughter has started helping me unload the dishwasher. She helps me sort out the laundry. And she helps me clean down the table (well, her table anyway). Although her older brother helps out with little things when asked, he does not do it out of love of his heart. He needs to be asked every damn time.
Whereas my daughter doesnt have to be asked at all. Its like she wants to help. She wants to make my load lighter.
And I love her for it… But at the same time I don’t like that at all. .
I want both my children to help equally.
I don’t care if they are a boy or a girl.
I want EVERY member of our family (including the dog if we can somehow train him to put out the bins lol) to do their share of taking care of the house that we ALL live in.
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Because it isn’t up to one person (or one gender). Or it shouldn’t be anyway. .
To try solving this problem, we are going to utilise a chore chart in our house where chores are divided equally and fairly.
So everyone shares the load, and people all learn to look after and respect what they have.
Oh, and also so mummy doesn’t have a nervous breakdown… .
That sounds fair right? So head to the link in my bio and read my latest post about this exact issue, and then come back here and tell me - what chores do you get your little ones to do each week?
Leave a comment below and tell me all about it xx
* T O T A L A V O I D A N C E ! *
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Bath time. Geeeeeeesuz. That time of day is certainly hell in a hand basket ammiright?! .
I can feel grey hairs sprouting out of my head even as I think of preparing for bath time... because it’s like preparing for a battle.
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As soon as the water starts running the kids sprout horns and turn into wildlings. They run circles around the house, they squeal at the top of their lungs, they throw cushions on the floor, they toss clothes recently shed downstairs whilst shouting “DELIVERY!” at the top of their lungs. They dance. They fall down. They. Will. Not. Submit. To. The. Bath. .
When we finally catch them to toss them in the water, The Girl turns into human spaghetti going limp in the hopes that she will slide herself out of my grip. The boy starts flailing in his fathers arms yelling “ONE MORE RACE DADDY! ONE MORE! I MEAN TWO MORE! JUST TWO! NOOOO!”
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When we finally manage to toss them in the bath we start the next battles. “SIT ON YOUR BUMS!”, “DON’T THROW THAT AT YOUR SISTER!”, “SIT IN YOUR BUM I SAID!”, “STOP WHACKING HIM, HE DOESN’T LIKE IT!”, and our all time favourite - “STOP BLOODY SPLASHING!”, as we are hit in the face by a tsunami of bath water. 💦
And don’t even GET ME STARTED on brushing their teeth, I swear our neighbours must think someone is being murdered in the bath every single night, when all we are trying to do is give our kids fresh clean breath and sparkling teeth. FML. .
However this stressful nightly event has led to my husband and I trying to find creatively sneaky ways of getting out of bathing the kids... .
Before I can even open my mouth the husband will yell “I’m off to the toilet!” to which he disappears for 15 minutes or at the very least until I am saturated from head to toe and ready to toss all toothbrushes out of the window. Damn it.
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But that’s ok because the next night I get in first. “I’m going to fill up The Girls water bottle!” I shriek as I dash downstairs and lay on the couch for 15 minutes in semi-peace, or until I hear my husband desperately calling for help from the bath room. .
It’s a nightly ritual. And it sucks. Sigh. .
Is it the same at your house? Let me know below ❤️
* P F F T A N N O Y I N G ! *
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You know what’s annoying? Freaking meal times. Sigh.
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I actually have to say that I am pretty lucky in that I have two relatively good eaters, but mealtimes still SUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
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The most frustrating thing is when they take a bite of their dinner and let me know how delicious it is and how I am the best “cooker” in the world. And then in the next bite they tell me that it’s yuck and they don’t like it. Sometimes it gets pushed away in a huff, and sometimes it gets spat dramatically on the floor for the dog to schnaffle up. 🤢🤢
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And both of those options fill me with rage. 🤬
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Farrrrrrrrrk. Yes, Raaaaage. 🙅🏻♀️
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Why is it so hard to enjoy a delicious meal, a meal that I just spent ages cooking because everyone wants to cuddle me instead of letting me cook freely like the culinary genius that I am (not). #IHonestlyLoveItJustNotWhenSomethingIsBurningOnTheStoveTopLol
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When they tell me they hate the food I’ve cooked, I take the food away. But once I take it away they both immediately howl and ask for their food back. FML. You LITERALLY just told me you hated it. I’m-a confused. 🤷🏻♀️🤷🏻♀️
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Kids. Sigh. They never ever know what they want. Its so annoying and happens every single time. They are giving me emotional whiplash. .
I can’t wait to get through this stage and for people to eat what I cook without spitting it out like it’s poo on a plate. .
So tell me, when does this happen? How many years do I have till people eat my food without complaining that it’s yuck (when it’s not, it’s bloody yum)? Leave a comment below and tell me all about it ❤️❤️
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Rad 📸 of my kids actually eating without complaining by @jessworrallphotography
* B L O G T I M E ! *
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Yes, the babe is 20 months old now. Can you believe it? I know I sure can’t.
Well, that is I can’t believe it until she does something all grown up and crazy, like sing me the alphabet song, or ask me to sit on the toilet.
WTAF babe, who even are you, you teenage acting tiny person! .
I love it though, like with my son, I love being able to hold conversations and know what she needs.
I love that she can tell me exactly how she feels (well mostly), and I love that she can express herself relatively freely.
Except for when she is telling me that I am yuck and that I should go away. That bit, I could do without. .
I love her at this age. I think that this is one of my favourites. .
And although I know what lies ahead (can you say #EpicTantrums) I look forward to seeing who she grows into as she gets older.
My little sunbeam. My little piece of heaven in a heartbeat. My tiniest love. .
So head to the link in my bio and check out the latest post about the last month of my little ones life, and then come back here and tell me -
Do you have a little tiny demanding person in your life right now? How old are they and what are they up to?
Leave a comment below and tell me all about them xxx
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BTW, rad 📸 by baby whisperer @jessworrallphotography
Tap pics for clothing deets ❤️
* R U O K ? *
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I wasn’t going to talk about this today. In fact I don’t know if I was EVER going to talk about this. But in the spirit of @ruokday I think that I should, just a little bit anyway. I think that maybe, someone might need to hear it... Or at least hear my thankyou... ❤️
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But the last two years have been the hardest of my life. Of my husbands life. My families life. .
My nephew passed away two years ago in November, and ever since he left us I have NOT been ok. I haven’t.
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I have struggled to cope with his passing. And I struggle (more times than I wish to admit) when I look at my daughter - who was born a mere 3 weeks after he passed.
They would have been 6 weeks apart had he still been here. They would have shared everything growing up and would have been experiencing all of the same things at the same times.
And now every milestone she hits, every laugh that she laughs, every day I have with her with me brings about just as much guilt as it does joy.
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I am so bloody lucky. She is here. She is happy. She is healthy. I can see her beautiful face. I can hold her in my arms all day every day. I can love her hard, and she knows it.... But he should be here too...
It’s the hardest thing to live with, and I am working hard on doing just that every day. To accept what I cannot change and to truly appreciate what I have WITHOUT the guilt if I can.
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But thankfully I have my beautiful family around me, as well as my incredible friends - who no matter how much I tried to isolate myself (especially) at the beginning or wallow in my own HUGE feelings, they are always there for me.
They always check on me to make sure I’m ok. They always listen when I talk, when I cry, when I just need to try to work out what the hell happened and how we even got here.
They have gotten me through every step of this horrible journey and this horrible recovery and I will forever be grateful.
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So please never underestimate the power of ur question - r u ok. Please never underestimate the power of your presence, your support, and the way you listen. Because you could be helping in more ways than you know.
So I hope U r ok. I will be, thanks to u xx
* F E R A L 4 Y E A R O L D ! *
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Nobody told me there’d be days like theeeeese! *Sing it Sister! 🙌🏻* ...
Actually EVERYONE told us there would be days like these but we never listened when they told us, because we knew OUR kids would NEVER be like that (pffft yeah right mumma). 🤦🏻♀️
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But lemme tell you, four year olds really are built to drive a mumma WILD! Sometimes they can be so feral that they lapse into grunting nonsensically, squealing, snorting and farting.
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And then sometimes they come out with such cuteness, such love, such hilarious sassy talk that the feral part of them seems to disappear...
Well almost. Before the feral part comes on out again. Which it does, e’rrry damn time... because, well... four year olds are farked🤯😂
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Swipe through to see my feral four year old in action - being both feral and sweet ❤️❤️
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Do you have a little feral four year old in your life? Tell me all about them in the comments below ❤️❤️
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Thanks to the gorgeous @seriously_milestones for letting us have a play with her oh so hilarious toddler milestone cards. Zee cards are funny. Check ‘em out ❤️
