I usually shy away from blogging about the latest trending subject matter – fodder to soon become tomorrow’s chip paper’s just not my bag; neither, until the last few days was politics. But after Friday’s revelation that our fine and glorious country will be leaving the EU, many seem quite up in arms, upset, offended and brutally disappointed with the outcome. Panic not, I’m not about to wade into a political rant. This is not to berate or applaud either side of the argument, yes, we’ve all seen the enviable diplomacy of the Facebook friend that says “we all need to move forward together despite the decision”. This is simply to pose the questions asked by the generation this outcome will potentially affect the most – our children. On being informed of the Brexit on Friday morning, something which I’ve done my best to inform my otherwise pretty clueless sons about, these were the responses given from the 8 and 9 year old.… View Post
When I received an email asking if we wanted to head to Elderflower Fields Festival in the days leading up to our first ever family holiday (which you can read about HERE), I was dubious and even typed out the declining email due to the mammoth packing task that lay ahead. But, of course, not before clicking the link to see what it was all about. About 30 seconds into my browsing experience, I retyped my email and it was a resounding YES! This was a family festival, taking place in the heart of the Sussex country side with a plethora of boy-friendly madness – although we couldn’t go for the whole weekend, we could certainly put the packing, washing and ironing to one side for a day trip of fun.… View Post
There’s an unspoken understanding between parents on planes: Do whatever the hell it takes to get through. Be it seat swapping, sweet giving, playing peekaboo over a seat, snorting the innards of a sherbet lemon in a vague hope of some legal high or simply accepting that normal rules will not apply for the duration of the flight. This seems to be if your children are aged 1, 10 or 33. If you’ve ever been a parent on an aircraft, you just get it. Then there’s those pesky people that fill up the family-void spaces on a plane: The pre-kidders or the people that made the life-choice to never have the little darlings (is it too late to make this choice?!).
Here’s just some of the questions and comments I would like to put to the pre-kidders who occupied 34A and 34B on our recent travels…… View Post
It was this time last year when I cautiously made my way over to the Thomson Holiday’s stand (actually a replica airplane) at the spectacular Blogtacular conference. Like many of the bloggers in attendance I fancied a go at pitching my holiday idea to the company behind sending so many British families on their hols every year. I challenged Thomson Holidays to keep our 5 boys so entertained for a week in the sun that they wouldn’t be tempted by their gadgets – and they accepted!… View Post
En mass, I get it, we’re not only a larger than the norm family, but luck also swung firmly in the male direction when it came to our procreative efforts generating 5 boys. We get a myriad of comments ranging from the friendly, yet sympathetic “you deserve a medal – wow, 5 boys!”, after dinner has been inhaled at a restaurant; to slightly icy stares as couples mutter “god, haven’t they heard of contraception?!”, as we herd our monsters through a packed checkout in Tesco’s on a Sunday afternoon. What none of these people realise, and why would they, is that we never set out to have 5 kids, let alone 5 of the same rambunctious sex. Mr Only Girl and I were happily bumbling along as single parents with two mild-mannered (that’s a whopping lie!) boys each, until one day, we met whilst playing football in the park, fell madly in love (not a whopping lie!), became a family with four boys and then thought we’d give the baby-sex-wheel-of-fortune one more spin at having THAT girl – ooops, there’s another boy. So, in a relatively short space of time, we went from two each to five collectively! BAM! A family of seven was created.… View Post
For the last week or so, people have kindly been questioning if I’m looking forward to our impending travels, as tomorrow is the day we set off on our first ever family holiday as a septet. Whilst I would usually smile and reply congenially, I’ve found myself being perhaps overly honest with a reply of “NO, I’m fucking dreading it.”. I can’t help but think my answer, along with this blog, is some sort of cry for help – a desire to “talk it out”, to make it all better?!
I’m not sure what part of getting up at 5am with 5 ridiculously excited boys, herding them through Gatwick Airport amidst half-term madness, boarding a jet propelled metal tube rammed with potential onlookers and juggling a toddler on my lap in my solo seat for 3.5 hours, is supposed to be something to look forward to. It’s bad enough trying to contain them in our own home, with plenty of room for movement, a fridge full of food and surrounded by their creature comforts – let alone chucking them to 30k feet with a 250 strong audience and restricted personal space.… View Post
Last weekend saw me left alone with the boys at home, as Mr Only Girl fled the scene on a work trip – this mini-(anti)-break allowed me some time to fully appreciate the boy-ness that plays out in front of me on a daily basis, but is usually osmosed by Mr Only Girl, so skips past my girly gaze.
I grew up as an only child, with a single mum and attended an all-girls school – my life was officially girly. It was as girly as they came, think fake tan, beauty pageants, high heels and mother/daughter shopping trips galore. Then, in 2006, my life changed – there was nothing that could prepare me for a life with boys – things I never knew existed are now common place in my life. Today, I praise those dirty, noisey little blues for giving me a re-education. They’ve brought endless things into my life that I never really needed, don’t really want – but oddly, really enjoy. Here’s just a few…… View Post
As Casper approaches the 14 month milestone (stop child!!), it seems like a million years ago that at this same stage, with Hugo (now 9) I was due to give birth to #2 (Bruno) any day. Casper is so all consuming, in good and sometimes in not so good ways, it really does seem impossible for me to imagine suddenly having a new born thrown into the mix. Cas and I are only just learning about what makes each other tick. This week in particular, as Cas seems to want/need/get more of my time, I’m often left thinking how the hell did I do it? … View Post
The count down to our first ever family holiday has begun. In 3 weeks the brave crew over at Thomson Holidays will be jetting all 5 boys and us grown-ups to sunnier climes. So, this week saw me traipse into town (Brighton if I’m being precise), baby and mother in tow in search of the perfect mum garb for our jaunt to a warmer location/summer 2016. I’d tried and failed with my usually reliable online shopping, perhaps as I had quite specific requirements from my new, more revealing wardrobe…… View Post
I’m not gonna lie, this week over in mamaland has been hard – Tom Hardy/Vinnie Jones/the heels of my feet pre-pedi kinda hard! With a 12 month old cutting his first molars and a desire to get out in a currently not-quite-toddler safe garden (pre-extension) there’s been a lot of whinging, tantrums, tears and mud coated snot.
This week saw the first day in Casper’s 12 months when I watched the clock for bedtime. I filled with resentment every second that passed beyond 6:15pm when Mr Only Girl didn’t walk through the door in order for me to pass responsibility of small person for a molar-induced-whinge free 5 minutes. So, in the sickeningly positive spirit that everyday starts anew, what do you do when life throws you a shit day with a baby on board? Go out! Go out anywhere, just get out! Things are ultimately better when doused in sunshine – this apparently goes for teething bubbas too, as smiles, giggles and eating resumed in the great outdoors.
It doesn’t take a kaleidascopic imagination to please a little person – a duck pond, a park and his favourite ball are sufficient entertainment to ensure sore gums are forgotten and mummy’s sanity is kept in tact. And who knew, apparently swans quite like stale chilli tortillas…… View Post