The vomit fear is real.

“Oh Jesus Christ, did he just heave?  Holy fuck I can’t deal with vomit.  Oh my god, I think I feel sick, I bet the little clingy slobbery sod has passed it on to me.  How am I going to cope with projectile puke when I need to be sick.  Shit I think my mouth just started watering a bit.  FFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK”

I’m pretty sure not one of you actually enjoys throwing up, it’s not a pleasant experience for anyone HOWEVER I would like to claim the prize for person least able to cope with puke.  If I get even the slightest queasy feeling my brain just completely goes into overdrive, I start to sweat, my heart feels ready to jump out of my chest and I have some kind of mini panic attack.  yes it’s ridiculous!  At 28 years of age I should be able to handle a tiny little bit of vomit, not to mention of course that I have two little bug breeding machines living in my house I seriously should be used to it by now.

I’m just generally not good with illness at all, don’t get me wrong I’m a mother, do-er of everything and therefore if I get the flu or my left arm is hanging off I still have little choice but to crack on. If one of the kids gets ill, or even before they get ill, if one of them sneezes more than once in 24 hours I get completely neurotic and start googling symptoms.  In nearly seven years this completely insane very protective in a caring way routine has remained the same, as consistent as my completely insane quirky puke aversion it goes like this:

  1. Meningitis- “Thomas you look a bit warm, are you ok?  Are you sure? Do you feel sick?  Are you sure you don’t feel sick?  OK well come over here then.  You feel warm,  PAUL GET THE THERMOMETOR THOMAS IS ILL.  Ok Thomas does your head hurt? are you sure?  Just look at the light.  Oh shit he squinted, PAUL HURRY UP HE IS SENSITIVE TO THE LIGHT.  YES I KNOW ITS A BRIGHT FUCKING LIGHT, HURRY UP HE COULD BE SUFFERING FROM MENINGITIS HERE AND YOUR WASTING TIME!  meningitis is nothing love don’t worry.  No you won’t die.  What have I told you about TV adverts, it’s all lies.  Now is your neck stiff turn it to the side… more… more… more… keep going, yes you can stretch it more than that.  Oh bollocks he says it hurts.  PAUL HURRY THE FUCK UP!  Take you’re socks off let me feel you’re feet.  No I’m not weird this is necessary, they feel cold.  I know its freezing today but still your feet are like ice.  Ok buddy lets just put this in your ear.   Don’t worry you can sleep in mummy’s bed tonight Daddy will have to stay on the sofa.  36.8, your fine kid carry on.  Yes I know you told me so.  No you cannot sleep in my bed there’s nothing wrong with you.”
  2. Sickness bug- Thomas are you ok? You coughed a bit just then and swallowed afterwards, do you feel sick? are you going to be sick? I’m not panicking I’m just concerned.  No I’m the adult here I do not panic over a bit of vomit.  I know there’s not actually been any vomit but there is the potential for vomit if you feel sick!  I’m not panicking.  OK I’m panicking a bit.  Will you make sure you get it in the sink or the toilet because you know how I loose my shit if I have to clean it up and then I throw up on top of your puke and its just a fucking nightmare.  Thanks lad, you’re the best.  Are you sure you don’t feel sick though?  I do a little bit now.
  3. Chicken pox- “Paul Henry has chicken pox.  Yes I’m sure this time.  He has all of the symptoms, he’s been moody and clingy and streaming with a cold for the past few weeks.  Yes, he is always moody and clingy but he doesn’t always have a cold!  I know he’s teething again but so what, he’s got a spot now as well on the back of his right leg.  There’s no head on it yet no,  but it looks like there’s gonna be soon.  I overheard a woman at playgroup saying her nieces, best friend’s, next-door-but-three neighbour had them so he’s probably caught it from her kid.  Yes it’s possible do you know how contagious it is?!  I’m just going to text all the other mums who we have been in contact with this week to warn them.  Done.  What do you mean the spot has gone?  It was there ten minutes ago in the bath.  Let me see.  For fuck sake, I’ll text the other mums tomorrow and say it went overnight, I don’t want them thinking that I’m nuts or anything. 

Told you I’m completely useless not the best with illness.  I am never cool calm or collected but throw an illness in and I immediately start to loose my mind Britney style!

If ever you feel genuinely worried for your child’s well-being contact 111 (UK) for medical advice.


One Messy Mama


One in, One out: My son the not so great artist.

Our house has a very strict one in one out rule, not so much with children, we let Henry in and still kept Thomas but definitely with the ‘art’ the children create.

I have never been one of those sentimental people who feels that hoarding everything in the loft space is a good idea, in-fact the quicker I can get the monstrosities out the better!

I’m not being a smug bitch or anything but I could totally make a better space ship out of empty toilet rolls than any of my kids, I choose not too because WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A TOILET ROLL TUBE SPACE ROCKET?!

Don’t get me wrong some things I keep for a while before they get ‘Lost’ or ‘blow away when the backdoor opens’.  Things like cards at Christmas and mothers day that they make at school,  I’m a total advocate of keeping those to look back on when my two boys have abandoned me and I’m a lonely old spinster with fifteen cats.   If nothing else they will come in handy if I run out of cat litter,  however is it really mean of me to recycle a piece of A3 paper with one scribble on it that that quite frankly son looks nothing like spiderman.  Or the bad guys he is apparently fighting.   In fact it simply looks like a purple line on a massive piece of paper.

A) When did Spiderman start wearing purple?

B) How can one purple line on a massive piece of paper be representative of several different characters?  I’m no art dealer by any means but I’m pretty sure even the most contemporary of artists are required to go into a little more detail before it can seriously be classed as a masterpiece!

If I kept everything the boys made I would be fighting my way through the paper mountains every morning to get to the kettle and that my friends would never end well!

Coffee before Art any day, in fact coffee before life most days!

Unfortunately the inevitable has happened and Thomas has now started to pick up on the fact his small van gough inspired masterpieces keep going missing:

“Mummy, where do all my pictures go when they come off the fridge?”

*Trying to get to the kitchen and retrieve screaming, teething toddler some calpol, manoeuvring ninja style through the contents of toys r us which are spewed all over the lounge floor*

“In the bin lad”

*cringe as I realise I made the mistake of telling my six year old the actual truth*


*throws head in hands, starts to try and force out tears, looks at me like I’m the reason poverty and war exist*

“Why do you hate me so much mum?”

Seriously it was one fucking line on a massive piece of paper.

One Messy Mama

The problem with willies.

So we all know that men have a very deep love for their willies.  So much so that most men feel the need to walk around, hands down pants cradling the little love at every opportunity.  Gross.  Wouldn’t you think that the amount of time they spend ‘getting to know’ their dick’s they would learn to aim it so that ALL of the wee lands in the toilet bowl!

As the mother of two boys I fully anticipate a life of constant “Get your hands off your willy!” chats, I didn’t quite realise how quickly that would start though.

Thomas was about a week old the first time I thought I had given birth to a future sex pest,


“what’s the matter, is the baby ok?”

“I think he’s gone through puberty already, look he’s got a hard on!”

queue a lovely fountain of baby pee all over my jeans.  First lesson in raising boys, their little soldiers stand to attention when they need a wee.  Lesson learned.

Whilst relieved that my week old son was in fact not a future sex pest (at least hopefully no more than the rest of the  male population) this was the first instance of many willy-gate dramas.

I always thought that man bits were super sensitive I mean you accidentally knock a mans dick they roll around for an hour like you’ve just castrated them with a rusty blade, seriously man flu has nothing on ball aches, I realised that this must just be rubbish the day my one year old son stretched his little wiener all the way up to his nips, I mean he just kept pulling and pulling with some weird smile on his face, as if he was letting me into some kind of man-code secret.  I have concluded that this must mean that much like man-flu men pretend to be seriously hurt if you sucker punch accidently knock their genitals.  It’s all an attention thing,  bloody men!

I have also discovered that the age a boy starts to value his balls more than his life is way younger than I thought, when Thomas started playing football about a year ago they were practicing that weird human wall thing they do if some one is taking a free-kick, the coach told them to place a hand across their chest in-case the ball hits them and they get hurt and the other hand was to cup their manhood for the same reason, I swear to god every single kid forgot about a hundred times to cover their vital organs such as their lungs and heart and instead opted to use both hands to cradle their genitals, after all is life really worth living is you can’t spend it thinking with your knob?

Being a girl. a girl who’s spatial awareness is completely out of sync with reality, willies cause me no end of stress, jeans with a zipper on are far to risky in our house so we avoid the crotch zip whenever possible (we’ve all seen “There’s something about Mary” right?).  I have before now completely forgotten to tuck the little fella down when putting a nappy on and Henry peed in his own face out of the top of the nappy.  Thomas has asked me hundreds of times what a willy is for and why it looks like a sausage roll and now finds it hilarious to shout “Look mummy its willy rolls” as loud as he can every time he sees one, thanks kid, I used to like them!

The idea that an emergency pee stop is easier with boys is also a complete myth, at home standing up for a wee is apparently the necessary way, who cares if your bathroom constantly smells like one massive urinal no matter how many times a day you clean it.  If your outside though they still need you to hold them up like you would with a little girl because why make life easier?  The problem is willies have a mind of their own, a girls wee just falls in the direction its pointed, a boys wee defies gravity, it windmills about everywhere and splashes you in the face before landing on your new suede boots, yes this has happened to me.

Revenge is of course sweet and when Thomas was coming up for three he went through this weird nudist phase and refused to wear any clothes or underwear, and one day all of a sudden a bird flew and hit our window, Thomas was horrified and wanted to know why the bird didn’t just see the window and fly away, never one to miss an opportunity to traumatise my children, and remembering a story my mum had told my brother (thanks for the parenting advice mother),  I told him that the bird thought his willy was a worm and was coming to eat it, that’s why he needed to wear at least underpants so the birds didn’t get his little pecker, and to avoid any further bird casualties.  I didn’t really think this through as for the next six months getting Thomas to go into a paddling pool outside or have a bath when the window was open was impossible!  I definitely shot myself in the foot, it was the longest, hottest, sweaty bathroom filled summer ever!

The biggest problem with being a mummy to boys?  It’s definitely what’s in the pants!

The Pramshed


It’s in the bag: what do you have hiding in there?

I had one of those heart stopping moments earlier, you know the ones where your phone has disappeared into the Bermuda triangle known as (fake)  Mulberry, yes the Handbag!  My life is on my phone and once you think it may be gone theirs no gong back, you HAVE to find it immediately before you actually die.

with sweaty palms and whilst slightly hyperventilating i spewed the contents of my handbag onto the shop floor.  Upon emptying it onto the shop floor I realized how much my life had changed in the past ten years!

Gone are the days of phone, tampon, condom (I may have been slightly ‘loose lipped’ but at least I was safe!) lip gloss, bronzer and a pair of clean knickers (safe AND clean, what a catch!).


Nervously scrambling through the dumper truck worth of shit I found:

  • An empty sweet packet, family sized but consumed solely by yours truly!
  • A packet of pasta in sauce, good for slimming world, uneaten due to over-consumption of sweets.
  • A book, for those ten seconds I get at the play center before I get dragged into some hideous ball pit with not only your feral beasts but other people’s as well!
  • Henry’s beanie hat, one of about a hundred.  I’m pretty sure this is the one he robbed from TKmaxx because unless I was still drunk from the night be fore’s wine I would NOT have paid for this one!
  • A notepad and pen, just in case blog inspiration hits me while I’m doing something  when I’m out and about, also a good distraction for screaming toddlers if you can’t sexy bribe the other half and end up taking the little love to Asda with you!
  • 4 loose Lemsips.  Who knows, I’ve not even been ill this winter!
  • half a board of Kirby grips because what can’t they fix!  Handy for when your button pops off your jeans (or you eat too much and have to undo your button!).  I’ve given up bothering about my hair these days so they’re purely for other stuff.
  • An electric fag, yep still using it as a pacifier and five lighters just because the pacifier doesn’t always work!
  • A chewed up organic kids snack bar, I’m pretty sure I remember being starving and attempting to eat this in order to stop myself dying before I could reach a watering hole however it was gross! have you tasted these things? urgh!  No wonder we grow up craving chocolate, its our subconscious doing its best to stop us eating this crap ever again!
  • A whoopee cushion, sme wooden building blocks and a piece of train track, I have two boys, enough said.
  • Two left over boiled sweets and a mini packet of love hearts, now consumed.
  • A Christmas card addressed to Thomas, I’m against the idea of Christmas cards anyway but thanks for the thoughtful gesture child who shall not be named in order to avoid Thomas being crossed of the list next year.
  • My “Lost” bank card that I cancelled last week causing me massive inconvenience!
  • A nappy, luckily unused although I wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been a used one in there.  Don’t judge you would be surprised how many places don’t have nappy bins in the toilets!
  • various empty sweets wrappers and old receipts, I would like to blame the kids but I don’t have a mother controlling my daily sugar intake so I eat way more sweets than them!
  • spice girls greatest hits CD, in case of low self-esteem and lack-of-self-worth moments and also handy as an ice scraper for car windows.
  • General ming, crumbs, slimy stuff and grossness.  I didn’t even open the pockets because that’s a whole other article.
  • My phone!  hidden under all of the mess and lying in some sticky substance there it was, phew!  I did get some strange looks when I took it out and wiped it on my jeans leg before handing it over, force of habit, my jeans were already full of crap anyway, did I mention I have two boys?
  • And finally stuck to the back of my phone, noticed as I was handing it over to the shop keeper, a massive night-time sanitary pad/maternity pad because tampons can no longer handle my post-kids heavy flow.  To be fair it really didn’t make any difference he already thought I was gross anyway!


I am a blogging misfit, organisation is not my strong point, this is my handbag let’s not even talk about the now ruined Pink Lining nappy bag i was so desperate for and was going to look after forever.  I shit you not all of that was in my handbag and we have a separate nappy bag too!  I would ask what the contents of our handbags says about us as people but I’m terrified of the answer so instead I will stick with:

What little secrets do you have hiding away in your bag?  Is there anyone out there as gross as me?


The Diary of an 'Ordinary' Mum


Shop of the week: teddyb_original

It seems time keeping is not my strong point!  10 days since my last shop of the week, the clue is in the name Lauren for goodness sake!  Planner/diary recommendations anyone?

Anyway moving on… This weeks shop of the week is the amazing teddyb

We first placed our order a while ago now and we have had our tees and hoodie for about a month but to be honest I had convinced myself I had already had them as my coveted (obviously its well sought after!) shop of the week but I’ve not (so much happy post, so little blogging time!) so here goes!


Our “good vibes only” is our favourite tee!

teddyb_original make the most amazing tees, hoodies and rompers you can choose from a range of designs both slogan tees and personalised options, we have had three items from them in total, all of them have been outstanding quality, the cotton has been super soft and they have all been a really good fit.  one of the biggest problems for me is always the vinyl used to print on the tees, it often cracks or peels away especially during winter when you have to use radiators of tumble driers but all of the items we have had from this amazing instashop have washed and dried perfectly!  We will definitely be ordering more!


our “Nope… not today” long sleeved tee is from @teddyb_original


Getting your hands on some teddyb_original of your own is super easy just follow them on instagram and then DM to place your order, also a great opportunity to get to know the lady behind the clothes, she is so lovely and helpful, throughout the whole making process she was in touch letting me know where she was up to with my order and gave me some sizing advice which is always really handy, nothing worse than stalking the postie for a week only to open something that doesn’t fit!  I think she must be superwoman because not only does she have a new business she also has five little’s to care for and still dispatch and delivery was super quick!


“It’s a Henry thing” hoodie



When ordering I would advise to stay true-to-size, 2-3 fits Henry perfectly, unless of course you want the oversized look.  As you can see from my pictures the design of these products is amazing and they have become some of our go-to tops.  The new range has recently come out and is great for you monochrome loving mummy’s like myself (I have a few things on my payday must have list) so head over and get your hands on a bargain!  All of the items in the shop are very reasonably priced especially taking into consideration all of the products are made to order when she gets a minute (how she ever gets a minute with five kiddies is beyond me too!)

Follow @teddyb_original on instagram to check out the new range and grab your own.

all views and opinions in this article are my own, I was not asked to review these products and was a paying customer, I just like to spread the small shop love!

Happy shopping lovelies!






V-day or D-day? Valentines day sucks for everyone!

Anyone else think cupid is a seriously weird looking little fucker? I mean seriously a man wearing a nappy and trying to shoot you with an arrow is the stuff nightmares are made of so why the hell do we waste insane amounts of money trying to get the bastard to pay us a visit?

Valentines day isn’t something I’ve ever celebrated, in large part because by the time by boobs grew big enough to attract boys I was a Mosher/Goth and its totally not in the code to celebrate such pleasantries, do I feel like my life has suffered in any way because I don’t have a million stuffed animals holding love hearts and some cards filled with cheesy poems?  Nope!

Completely new concept it seems, but if you do love someone, fancy some one, just wanna have sex with someone, spare yourself fifty quid and just tell them!  Not on February the 14th because its cheesy, predictable and if it’s been a year since you last told them, probably not even true!  YOU DO NOT HAVE TO SPEND A FORTUNE OF YOUR HARD EARNED CASH IN ORDER TO LET SOMEONE KNOW YOU WANT TO GET YOU’RE LEG OVER!

To me it seems obvious that valentines day was a concept made up by some man who decided that the money he would spend would totally be worth the blowie he gets on March 14th which conveniently is ‘Steak and blow job day’ (the lengths some men will go to) a day designed to make up for the effort required on valentines day, well I don’t know about you but if the effort put in is that annoying it requires a reward I will save myself some jaw ache and they can keep the cheesy gift thank you!

The cost of valentines day if you choose to celebrate it is insane, I would have to re-mortgage just to afford the amount of veet needed to get sex ready, I mean who plans a luuurrve celebration in the middle of winter, that’s prime no need for shaving time!  Not to mention the new underwear, because unless Paul has suddenly taken a fancy to belly warmers no amount of fanny waxing is going to  make up for my now grey coloured granny pants.  Taking into consideration the meal, flowers, insanely expensive card is it really worth it when you could just tell someone that you love them?  The fact that valentines day babies are a real thing, and a lot of people get preggers on February 14th means I would have to purchase condoms, double bagging would be essential, did you know valentines day originates from the ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia, a fertility celebration.  enough said.  Be safe or be sorry lovelies!


Valentines day seems to be like a hidden test, a way of measuring how much your partner loves you.  If he loves you enough you get a dozen roses, which are twice as expensive this week as they will be next week by the way, you will spend half an hour writing an instagram post about how lucky you are, how in love you are, how he is the other half of your soul and you don’t know what you would do without him, edit the photo to death to make it extra special looking and post it for all of your followers to admire.  Perfect. If your partner doesn’t get you anything at all you will pretend you don’t care and still write a soppy post, probably using a really shit meme, while giving the inconsiderate knob the silent treatment.

The reality is of course that life isn’t as perfect as your valentines day instagram story, he still pissed all over the toilet seat AND the floor this morning, his clothes are still at the SIDE of the laundry basket and for the other 364 days of the year you are still expected to crack on and not complain, not to mention in order to get these flowers you had to drop lots of ‘subtle‘ reminders into conversation everyday for the past two weeks and resort to sticking pictures of flowers and love hearts on the fridge!


Valentines day is just an excuse to pretend that love is perfect and I don’t believe that a relationship ever is.  Relationships take work, constant work not just one day a year work, we need to tell the one we love that they are worth all the shit they put us through everyday, we need to apologise for the shit we put them through everyday and we absolutely DO NOT need to spend £5.99 on a shitty card in Clintons (or the petrol station if you’re as organised as me) to do it.

Valentines day is there to make us all secretly miserable, you’re single well guess what you were single yesterday and you probably will be tomorrow, valentines day is no different, buy yourself some dairy milk and give yourself some loving, let’s face it sometimes self-loving is often the best kind!

If your other half doesn’t get you anything then wahey! on the 14th March you will be chilling with a glass of wine smirking at him while all his friends are getting blow jobs, revenge is a dish best served cold.

If your other half gets you a dozen roses then that’s great, stop obsessing over the fact that loose lips Linda got a dozen roses AND a 6ft tall teddy bear, who cares!  Can you imagine that oversized kids toy staring at you while your doing the obligatory “thank you for not being shit and giving me a reason to brag on social media” shag!  And there’s a reason she got that nickname by the way, you don’t get a six foot bear for free.

February 14th is just another day so keep calm and carry the fuck on, you are amazing whatever your relationship status, if you do choose to celebrate though be careful because 18 years of hard work could all come from ten minutes of cupid induced silliness!


The Pramshed

Sincerely, Paula

Hey dark cloud I’ve missed you :-/

You know those weeks when you just feel like screaming “GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!” well that’s how this week has gone, I haven’t posted in a full week and to be honest my love of blogging although only discovered recently feels like its packed up and fucked off, much like my motivation to do anything at all other than keeping myself and the children alive.

I started off 2017 so positive and full of beans, new year new attitude and all that jazz but to be honest life has a way of kicking you in the balls just when you feel like your starting to do OK.

I’ve always been very open about my struggle with depression and anxiety on here and I feel like I’ve documented the highs a lot and so I think it’s only right that the lows get a mention too, I hate to not be my usual “don’t shave your fanny, all be friends, lets go and live in a commune and only eat what we grow” kind of self but I seriously feel like I have lost any happiness I have recently found this week.

The dark cloud that I had managed to shoo away has returned full force and has been lingering over my head, threatening to explode into a full blown storm at any second and it’s turning me into a major bitch!  I thought I had finally managed to control it, get a grip of the things that triggered the bastard and sent me into some kind of downward spiral of self pity and paranoia, what I forgot is that this is an illness not a lifestyle choice and how can I control something that isn’t controllable.

The problem with these flare ups is that they are triggered by life, the shit that happens all around you that you can’t control, so universe if your listening please give a girl a break and send some positive vibes my way because frankly your pissing me right off.

I witnessed death for the first time, a complete phobia I’ve had since as far back as I can remember.  To say it healed me completely and it was lovely and peaceful would be a lie, it scared me shitless.  It was peaceful and calm and if I had to choose a death it would go in a similar way but it’s never going to be nice.  To see a human make that transition from life to whatever is next reinforces the fact that we are all only here for a short time, that one day I will die.  I won’t live forever and that is a hard pill to swallow, despite knowing this already.  For someone who is anxious already the fear of death and the realisation that it could happen at any time sends my already fragile psyche into overdrive and I’m not sure how to deal with that.

This week has been a complete head fuck, Henry had an appointment about his heart murmur after above incident happened, que bat shit crazy style meltdown.  Obviously Henry was going to have some rare as fuck heart condition that even the most senior cardiologists had never heard of and it would probably get called Henryopathy after him because he would obvs be the first person EVER to have it.  He would definitely die, my world would end, how could I ever live on after that.  Thomas would get taken away because I was nuts and have to go and live with my mum and I would have to take up some kind of drug, not sure what because it takes me twenty minutes to swallow an ibuprofen and the thought of a needle makes me want to vomit, maybe crack you can smoke that right?!  Bollocks I’m even crap at drug addiction!  I would eventually get sober because I would remember my other son who was now also a drug addict because I had been such a shit mother and completely screwed up his life.  You get the idea. Bat shit crazy style meltdown.

I then had the high after the storm, Henry does have a hole in his heart that will need monitoring but it will likely heal itself and it’s nothing “to get excited about” as the consultant put it, seriously, excited?! are you fucking kidding me, I’ve spent a week in mourning for my child that is actually pretty healthy and googling first class drugs that don’t require swallowing (interesting results, you should give it a whirl) I’m completely excited that its nothing to worry about!  I will forgive this consultant because he was awesome, crazy as fuck and I did consider the possibility that he himself had been on speed or something similar but Henry loved him and even gave him a kiss on the way out, I was also tempted to go in for the snog after he had just made my week however he was about 4ft tall and married, still might of if Paul hadn’t been there though!

The biggest problem with depression for me is that when you NEED to do all of things you’ve put into place to help you manage your thoughts and feelings and get through the shit times, your brain shuts down.  You stop wanting to help yourself, the blogging hasn’t happened, the CBT hasn’t happened, I’ve just let it all consume me instead of fighting back.  Sometimes I question whether I actually want it to consume me, the familiarity of feeling so low is almost comforting in some twisted way, I know what it feels like and I can function so why put all this effort into feeling differently just for it all to be erased the second the slightest thing goes wrong.

The answer of course is that one day I will have more control over how I feel and how I make other people feel.  I will be able to stop the cloud before it puts a shadow over me.  I will be able to just be happy without all the effort.  I will be the best me that I can be.

I’m going to book some holidays off work, spend some time with the people I love, spend some time with my boys.  I’m going to surround myself with love and friendship and fuck everyone else.  Negativity cannot have a place in my life anymore, and therefore neither can the people that make me feel inadequate.

This week has been rough but hey I made it through, what choice did I have?

It took wine (lots of wine) the odd cigarette and an unfortunate amount of hair loss but I’m back to feeling positive again.  I’ve learned a lot about myself this week, I’ve learned that I cannot control everything and that actually that’s ok, I’ve learned that forcing myself to carry on doing the things that help me is essential next time I start to feel low – running and hiding makes it worse, and I’ve learned that I’m stronger and far more amazing than I give myself credit for.

I’ve also learned that if all else fails, there are drugs that you can smoke so I’m good.  Hey it’s always good to have a back up plan.  Jokes obvs. xx

If parenting came with a job description would you have applied?

Extremely patient, caring, slightly insane person wanted for a very badly paid post.  Must be approachable, sensitive and compassionate.

The immediate effects of the post include but are not exclusively, massive weight gain, stretch marks, engorged breasts, insane mood swings, unexplained bouts of crying followed by excessive anger, vomiting, constipation, piles and an aversion to previously loved foods.

The post requires a flexible person who works well on very little to no sleep, our client group enjoy nothing more than late night milk guzzling sessions and playing peek-a-boo at 3AM.

We need staff to be comfortable with a complete lack of social life as no holidays or days off will be given unless you can guilt trip somebody into caring for your offspring for 1-2 hours while you grab a bit of time to yourself, hours that you are likely to sleep away due to working conditions previously mentioned.

Our caregivers must not expect to have any kind of sex life unless it involves a quickie in the bathroom whilst holding the door closed with one foot and making little to no noise, this is accepted only if your offspring is either napping (no noise is then essential) or engrossed in a Disney film, in the latter instance it would be essential to make sure that there is at least twenty minutes of the film left in order to give adequate time to perform task and avoid your offspring walking in and asking why you and daddy are playing wrestling in the bath. No additional funding will be given toward any counselling sessions needed if you do not follow parenting policy.  Wedging the door closed is a safety hazard and is not recommended.

Partner must be accepting of body hair particularly in the bikini line area which applicants will only make time to groom if offspring requires swimming session and applicant is unable to find shorts to cover very excessive body hair.

Applicants must have a solid relationship capable of withstanding previously mentioned conditions as well as an increasing resentment of each other due to feelings of inequality and hatred towards spouse caused by burdening you with aforementioned offspring.  Relationships often suffer at best and dissolve all together at worst, all spare hours (if any) should be dedicated to maintaining your relationship by talking about nothing other than the offspring and bonding again over your shared frustrations.

Applicants will be expected to agree to a wage of £82.80 child benefit per month non-negotiable with no option for unpaid sick leave due to job being a year round position, circumstances such as illness, physical or mental, are irrelevant.

High chance of sickness due to offspring catching every germ they come into contact with particularly if you are lucky enough to be able to afford nursery fees, also high rates of depression and anxiety often related to hormone changes and commonly referred to as “post-natal depression” applicant will be expected to ‘soldier on’ as offspring require continuous care regardless.

Applicants must accept the presence of unprecedented amounts of snot, vomit, urine and the far to frequent poonami.  Applicants need not be comfortable with the above however will still have to deal with them when the situation requires action, this is expected to be about 100 times a day for the first three months slowly reducing over the first four years of your contract until eventually your offspring is well-trained enough to manage said situations independently (this is a rough estimation and time scales many vary).

Applicants must perform well under pressure and be able to manage challenging behaviour effectively, no training will be given.  Applicants must be aware of the likely hood they will be in receipt of verbal, physical and mental abuse starting with niplash should you choose to breastfeed (when offspring squeezes nipple between gums whilst throwing head in backwards motion) and the pulling of any hair applicant has left after three months of colic and night feeds.  Behaviour is expected to gradually become more challenging and the above is followed by supermarket meltdowns, physically assaulting other children, throwing objects of varying weights at applicant and others before eventually developing into verbal and mental torture.

Applicants are expected to have the skills of a Nurse, cleaner, chef, law enforcement officer, accountant, counsellor and social worker just to mention a few.

Applicants must be goal driven and offspring must meet government set targets and development goals in order to prevent applicant feeling like a complete failure, applicants must also be of strong character and avoid getting dragged into the mother games and competing for offspring superiority.  Applicants must try at all times to stick to both the girl code and the parenting code meaning that judging your fellow parenting colleagues is against ALL parenting policies.

Benefits to this vacency include lots of hugs, lots of laughs and lots of fun as well as most importantly a whole lot of love.

Applicants can be assured that no matter the pressures of the job it is all worth it (when they are in bed and you can do the cleaning in peace!).




3 Little Buttons


When is done, really done?

“I swear to god, I’m done in.”

“One more thing and that’s it I’m done”

“I can’t take much more of this, I think I’m done with it now.”

This week I’ve said all of the above at one point or another, the usual story the kids are driving me nuts, I don’t get enough sleep and what I do get is broken by everyone going about their day-to-day lives while I’m attempting to get my head down after work.  Paul has been less than understanding, I have been far less than patient and life in general has been all in all a little bit shit.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what “done” really means, the official meaning is obvious:

no longer happening or existing:

“her hunting days were done”

synonyms: over · at an end · finished · ended · concluded · according to

But in reality how do we really know when we are done and ready to draw a line under things, even if we know they aren’t good for us anymore?  The word ‘done’ seems so flippantly used these days that when things are really done people just don’t seem to get it, it doesn’t have the same oomph as screaming “Get the fuck out of my house!” or “Seriously kids I’ll give you ten seconds to pack it in before I throw the Playstation in the bin” and yet admitting to ourselves that something is ‘done’ and meaning it seems like such an impossible task.  What if we regret it?  What if the world ends because we have decided to stop something?  What if we are single handedly responsible for the collapse of the EU?  All from making a hasty “I’m done with this shit” bad decision! 

There are lots of things in my life that have been put in the ‘case closed’ file and yet they still affect me in so many ways, school, past relationships, old jobs, old friends.  All of these things are ‘Done’ and yet I still feel like they are so relevant and that they shape who I am today, some for the better and some for the worse either way they shape me.

I trust a little less easily than before, I love a little less freely and I guard myself way more than I should all because of these things that technically are ‘done’.

I lose count of how many times a week I have a little conversation with myself (we all do it, I’m not crazy) and decide that I’m done with Paul, he pushes all of my buttons (not in a good way) I don’t feel like he understands me at all and he is more stubborn than I am which is impressive really.  We argue way more than we should, sometimes in front of the kids I am ashamed to admit (we don’t shout argue we just make little digs at each other in patronisingly sweet sounding voices, but still in front of the kids is not acceptable) and I have never met a man who can piss me off quite as well as Paul manages it.

It’s easy to convince your mind that you are ‘done’ but sometimes your heart just isn’t ready to listen.  Sometimes we can be just half ‘done’.

People telling you that you should be done, parents pressuring you to just be ‘done’ already and your well-meaning friends telling you that they would have been ‘done’ with it ages ago is not helpful because they can all tell your mind what it already knows but your heart doesn’t listen, your heart is all about the feels not the thinks.

The fact of the matter is even when we might think we are ‘done’, emotionally, physically or mentally our heart keeps beating and we carry on, even when we conclude a situation it still shapes us, changes us in some way no matter how subtle a change that is, it’s still there.  Our todays effect our tomorrows and nothing is ever really ‘done’.

Me and Paul have obviously made up now, as always.  He still drives me crazy, but it’s not always in a bad way, and my heart just hasn’t quite caught up with my head yet.  Sorry mum.

Until another time lovelies, I’m done.

Shop of the week: Milly’o

Has it been a week already?  I can’t believe we are on the last day of January, 1/12th of the way through the year.  When my mum used to tell me time fly’s when you’re having fun (or races by when your chasing two children) I never actually believed her, turns out she was right, again!

We have been lucky to receive lots of happy post this week, some from our old faithful’s and some from a few new shops we’ve never bought from before, all of it has been amazing but there are a few things that stood out in particular and so my
(obviously sought after) honour of the “Shop of the week” title goes to the rather amazing Milly’o.


I’ve been stalking this shop for a while, counting down until payday as you do, and I placed a small order for a knitted pom hat and a pair of striped leggings, both of which are amazing!

Being my usual indecisive self I had no idea which colour combination I wanted for Henry’s hat, I spent lots of time discussing the pro’s and con’s of each one with the lovely Milly and in the end they were all so lovely the conversation ended with me making no decision at all and asking for a surprise.  I knew I would love it whatever the colours, the quality of these hand-made products is obvious just from the pictures, Milly makes them all herself in an old mill in Coxley (it’s down south to my fellow northern beauties) and has been making unique kids clothing since 2012, she studied design and textiles since she was 16 so this mama knows her stuff!


a few Milly’o designs

Milly went with the blue hat with a cream pom which was the total right decision because it looks amazing!  Henry is obsessed and now is seen most often running around the house in just his nappy and hat, if I dare to take it off, for fear of heat exhaustion, Henry runs over and points at it shouting (yes actually shouting quite angrily) “aaat mama!”.  So I guess the hat is a hit with the little destroyer too!


The leggings we bought are also of amazing quality!  The material is so soft and they completely indulge my love of monochrome, those of you who haven’t yet realised, I am partial to a bit of old school black and white.  We ordered the 2-3 because Henry is blessed with his dads never-ending legs and he has plenty of room to grow in them, they fit more like a harem at the minute which looks so cool but as he gets bigger they will fit more like leggings.  The waistband is always a big deal for me, I think it’s so important that above all else your littles have a comfy tum, they will spend the rest of their grown up lives squeezing into jeans that are slightly too tight so while they are constantly rolling and climbing around they should always be comfy.  The waistband on these leggings is super stretchy and soft and has a lot of give, meaning that comfort and style can go together after all!

Paul was concerned that I was dressing Henry like beetle juice these days when the leggings first arrived (like Paul has a clue about trends or fashion!) but loved them once they were on.  Trust me this alone is an achievement, unless they’re tracksuit bottoms Paul is usually underwhelmed to say the least, these are definitely a new favourite in our house!

As I’ve said before one of the best things for me about shopping small is getting to know the makers and where our clothes are coming from, I love to support small businesses and help someone in some small way achieve their goals, Milly has been so lovely throughout the whole transaction, we have had a few little chats over the past couple of weeks and she is so nice, and obviously patient dealing with me and my lack of decision-making skills!

There is a massive selection listed on Etsy, tie dye, bibs, leggings and of course the hats! If there is anything you’re after that isn’t on the site drop Milly a message and she will try her best to sort you out, I promise she is lovely!

For a piece of the Milly’o amazingness head over to the Etsy site now and check out what is currently available but it is also worth following @_Milly_o_ on instagram for some extras that aren’t listed on the website.  Happy shopping lovelies!