Category: Uncategorized

Wedding anniversary number 11 in self imposed lockdown with the kids

As we watched the three little angels beat the shit out of each other one night we realised they don’t have anything to look forward to. We’ve been shielding the girl for months. They’re sick […]

Mum Solidarity

We’re in it together, or so you would think. So why then do other Mum’s push you over the brink? We’re all sleep deprived and worn out, especially she, so why make it worse, just […]

Selective Hearing

Once upon a time (the other day), my husband came bounding into the kitchen, phone in hand, asking me “can you hear that?” Behind him were a trail of children (sometimes I lose count) all […]

To Mum

My first born leaves me little notes by my bed all the time. I know when he’s done this because it will cause him to hysterically giggle at any point where he thinks I might […]

Lazy Sunday – a true story

I have a vague-ish recollection, a memory or maybe it’s a dream. Perhaps it’s a daydream since I don’t sleep or even a really vivid birthday wish. Or it could be a story, the sort […]

Happy Birthday to the tall one

Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday oh look how you grew. I remember when you were tiny, when all you did was poo. Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, I’m sorry […]

I don’t want to be a ‘No Mum’

I don’t want to be a ‘No Mum’ or a shake your head “is that so?” Mum. I decided long ago that I’m aiming for a ‘sit back and let it all go Mum’. I […]

How to carry out the most perfect bedtime routine

Announce it’s bedtime and continue to do this for at least 40 minutes, while also throwing a few ‘if you don’t go to bed you’ll loose your tablet’ empty threats Head up the stairs and […]

Does anyone really like ironing?

I do not iron. Please don’t get the wrong impression, actively choosing not to iron doesn’t necessarily mean looking scruffy… I just hate ironing They say ‘hate’ is a strong word don’t they. So, on […]

It’s a Dad thing

I remember the days when my husband’s old ways would include baggy jeans that hung at his knees. Now he’s a Dad, gone is the lad, he wears trousers with belts and tools hanging down, […]