Step 1: Child complains of cold hands. Step 2: Search every consumable outlet for teeny tiny gloves. Step 3: Proudly present new purchase to child, who throws themselves to ground in disgust at prospect of wearing gloves. Step 4: Store unloved gloves in safe place. Step 5: Forget safe place. Step 6: Child proclaims... Continue Reading →
Lesson eighteen: Keep the pyjamas on
Mother [to herself]: Aren’t they playing nicely. I’ve nailed this. Mother [to children]: I’m going to get dressed my little cherubs, lights of my life, future of my world. Children: [Completely blank the person who gave them life] Mother leaves stage left Mother enters stage left Mother: Fucks sake (In the 30 seconds allotted for... Continue Reading →
Lesson seventeen: I should probably just retrain as a vet
In my top 5 stressful situations* is a vets trip. Today it was inevitable as the King of Melancholy broke a nail. Leaving one mutt at home isn't an option unless I want a new basement dug out, several noise complaints and some surprise interior design. So that leaves two options; 1. Take both dogs in,... Continue Reading →
Lesson sixteen: Because I said so
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.
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 →
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 →
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 →
Lesson ten: Balls are more important
Now we have an heir and a spare my husband is booked in for the chop chop op. It's pretty understandable to have some nerves ahead of any procedure but there is a lot of wittering going on about a knife going near his fun zone. If it's mentioned he gets nothing but sympathy from... Continue Reading →
Me and my DDs: dogs and dependants 