Do I Get on With My Step Kids? | Step Family Problems

A question that occasionally pops up in my DMs or on email is “Do you get on with your step kids?!”, usually followed by a brief tale of a “blended family” going a bit tits up. So I’m bringing this one outta the parental shadows. Sure, it’s taboo as no one wants to publicly declare that they don’t like/don’t get on with an innocent sprog; least of all the spawn of their beloved. It’s a toughie, but with well over half a mill step families, currently squabbling under one roof in the UK*, it’s an issue that’s going nowhere!

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The Loneliness of Being the Mum of a Naughty Boy

Motherhood is a lonely gig. Day after day, dropping off, picking up, feeding, making chitter-chatter with the smallest of people, there’s no beating around the parental bush, it’s isolating. Mind you, my loathing of church hall baby groups, coffee shop meet ups and general “not great with real people” attitude (one might go as far to say anti-social, but that might sound like I’m on the brink of an ASBO – which I’m NOT!!), were nothing in the social spectrum of isolation I’ve experienced since being the mum of a “naughty boy”.

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Casper’s First Day at Nursery | Vlog

Wednesday saw Casper’s first day at nursery – my littlest of beans at only 2 years and 1 month, I wasn’t sure if he was ready, or, more to the point,if I was ready! So, with iPhone in hand and with not a second to spare as we were already running late, I thought it would be a fab idea to film the highs and lows of our day!

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What to Expect from The Only Girl in the House | Mission Statement

When I hit the very scary “publish” button for the first time two and a half years ago, I had the intention of bringing stylish family interiors to the masses. But I found bringing my interiors day job into my hobby of writing like latching on a creative leech to the heart of my ju-ju – it sucked the life out of my writing. In addition, I was about to drop our boy number 5 into the world so my brain was addled with all the new amazing baby garb that had been invented/re-invented since 2008; we were living in a rather uninspiring, dark rented house – so taking swoonworthy interiors shots was like trying to catch the slippery soap in a lukewarm bath (impossible) and I found it piss easy to bemoan life with a brood of boys to anyone that would listen, whilst struggling for my next interiors post subject matter. Something had to change – and it did.

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Birthday? What Birthday?

It seems like only a few weeks ago I was writing about why we didn’t “do” presents last Christmas for all the boys – and yet now, my Grinch like antics have spread like the Child-Catchers sneeze of doom to Casper’s second birthday this coming Monday. Yes, my darling little cherub of a ‘baby’ is turning two and what are we, his abnormally large immediate family doing about it? Diddly squat, that’s what?! There’ll be no Daily Mail headlines of this toddler’s parents lavishing him with a diamond-encrusted tractor ride party at Daylesford Farm with Mr Tumble and co as special guests, at a grand cost of £237k; in fact, the headline will just about make it to my personal Facebook page and perhaps my Instagram, with a modest picture of the tot in question ramming his face with the Asda equivalent of Colin the Caterpillar cake. Last minute guilt might also manifest in the shape of a Gruffalo helium balloon.

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