For their Dada

My rules may control the fun, but you inject the fun in to this operation. That came naturally to you. You see the bigger picture. You're not offended if Daddy isn't the favourite, instead propping me up when only Mummy will do. You carry them when their legs are tired and swing them when their... Continue Reading →

The MD and the Unidog

One day the MD, the Unidog and Mummy took a walk. 'So kiddo, what type of cake would you like for your birthday?' asked Mummy. "Unicorn" said the MD decisively. 'That might be a bit tric-' "UNICORN" Mummy was silent for a moment, internally cursing her choice of words. 'What flavour cake' she thought, 'FLAVOUR'.... Continue Reading →

Mrs DD; a CV

Key skills A persistent individual with a diverse, self-taught skillset and an emphasis on attachment methods, interspersed with episodes of screaming in to pillows. Recent achievements include not losing either flight risk at the supermarket, remembering to put the defrosting meat out of the dogs' reach and taking the washing out of the machine within... 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.

Poo Monster

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 eight: Our house is a death trap

With a baby crawling about again I'm reminded what a death trap our house is. There's the choking hazards, the poisoning risks, stairs, fire, fury and four little beings hell bent on exploring each one.  First up there's everything that goes in their mouths. Spotty Crotch and Boob Baby are determined to steal the MDs... Continue Reading →

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