We’re on week three of ‘Why?’ All hope is lost. Send help and an encyclopedia. Why? Well, apparently I know nothing about the world around me and any explanations I am able to offer are not satisfactory. Why? Because you’re a toddler and there's no known cure. Why? I don't know, because of brain development... Continue Reading →
Lesson fifteen: Fear the dark
Humans are programmed to fear the dark, afterall a sabre tooth tiger could jump out and drag us away in to the dark. That's what we're told but I think there could be another reason. There's one nocturnal sound that never fails to make me freeze in fear. It cuts through the night like the... Continue Reading →
Lesson fourteen: A rant is good for the soul
I could apologise for the following swearing, but I wouldn't mean it. Don't read if you don't like fuck, because I say fuck a lot. Fuck.
My daughter isn't wearing a tutu and tiara and my son isn't head-to-toe in biege and that's hard for you because there's a chance she could be a he, or he a she, or she a she and he a he and you just wouldn't know how to type cast them?
Off you fuck.
About the DDs
The dogs; Spotty Crotch and Poo Monster. The kids; a Mini Dictator and Boob Baby. My sister tells me a mating is considered successful after the offspring has had offspring. That’s setting the bar a bit high so I’m aiming for bedtime, if we all make it to bedtime I’m winning.
The child formally known as Boob Baby
Well that's it. My body is officially mine again and I never have to breastfeed for the rest of my life. There's some real positives to this; - No more making sure my tops have easy access - No more bloody expressing - Alcohol - Lots of alcohol - Normal, regular person bras - No... Continue Reading →
Lesson thirteen: A nice cuppa fixes all
One of my new favourite places to spank money I don't have is Babi Pur. They've got everything from toys, clothes and baby carriers to lube, deodorant and sandwich bags. They've got your back, and it's all just about as planet friendly and ethical as you can get. So I have to spend all that... Continue Reading →
This one is for The MD
I'll try to do you justice, my little rainbow baby. My first baby. My sleep is for the weak baby. My little chatter baby. My never stops talking baby. My please stop now, I didn't think it was possible for the first year and a half of your life, but now I'm certain if I... Continue Reading →
Lesson twelve: There is so. much. excrement.
Looks like I'm sticking with a theme for the blog (see Lesson One); shit. I've run the numbers and the input to output ratio in this house does not add up. Every street has a fat cat that roams around getting fed by eight different families and I'm starting to wonder if my family are... Continue Reading →
This one's for Poo Monster. Before Boob Baby and the MD there was Poo Monster. I remember looking at him when I was pregnant wondering how I could ever love something more than I loved his little face. Sure, Spotty Crotch was there but he barely tolerates me. He only has eyes for Mr DD,... Continue Reading →
Lesson eleven: Hippies lie too
I've been trying to close the boob bank overnight. I had two glorious nights where young Boob Baby (boob by name boob by nature) only woke once. This was just to lure me in to a false sense of security before knocking me right back in to 'team no sleep' with a thud. So my... Continue Reading →