The Only Girl in the House

Ba-humbug to Baby’s First Christmas: Gift List

Ba-humbug to Baby’s First Christmas: Gift List

At the risk of coming across like the Grinch pissing on Santa’s parade, I’m going to admit I’m not a huge fan of going overboard for a little one’s first Christmas (each to their own though!). This has good and bad points for Casper: on the plus side – he will not be sporting a green and red, elf onsie, neither will he be found supping on Grandma’s xmas roast given the mini-blender treatment; on the downside, my poor little Tiny Tim will not be inundated with so presents he doesn’t know which one to bang/throw/dribble on first. Maybe I’m just incredibly cynical after a couple of 1st xmases, but new parents, I hate to put your cinnamon and clove scented candle out but your bubs will undoubtedly give a glassy eyed clueless look for a large portion of the day and, although a cliche – they WILL genuinely enjoy the box and packaging so much more!

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Why I’m Disappointed in 1D

Why I’m Disappointed in 1D

Maybe it’s because I’m a mum of boys, or maybe I just have a soft spot for floppy hair – either way, I couldn’t have been prouder when 1-D came third on X-Factor 2009, propelling them on a meteoric, sex (and allegedly drug) fuelled roller coaster of international success. Little did the bright-eyed Harry Styles know as he whispered into the winner, Matt Cardle’s ear: “Think how much pussy you’re gonna get!” – that he would, in fact, be on the receiving end of quite a bit of the feline synonym mentioned. But 1-D, despite my years of loyal motherly love (even as your tattoo count entered triple figures and you actually got facial hair!), you’ve disappointed me in the past few weeks; as much as I am a die-hard fan of your free-spirited boyish behaviour, I am also a real girly-girl – willing to stand-up for womanhood and all its fabness at the drop of a tampon!

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Counting My Blessings: Half Term

Counting My Blessings: Half Term

Wow, what a week?! We’ve come crashing into Monday after a somewhat hectic half term (not quite over yet – we’ve got an inset day today!) and surprisingly I’m pretty upbeat about all that has happened in the past 7 days. Considering I’m running on next to no sleep, courtesy of Casper – Captain of #TeamNoSleep; we’ve had the boys at home all day, every day; and we’re facing a giant house move in 3 weeks (eeek, a bit of denial over that one) – I’m blissfully grateful for all the stuff going right. Don’t panic, I’m not about to get all gushy and holistically thankful to a higher being – but sometimes I find it good for the ol’ mama soul to take stock of my blessings – it puts things in perspective. On a day when things might not seem so perky,you know the ones when you’re pre-menstrual, the kids are fighting non-stop, the washing machine is stuck on an error-code that might as well be an outer-Mongolian dialect as no-one knows how to fix it, you run out of tea bags just as you’re gasping for that first cup of the day and you dash into the car to finally get to work only to remember you forgot to fill up with petrol – these are the days I’ll most need this list, to remind me, things really aren’t that bad!

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Fanny Bone Ache aka Pregnancy Pelvic Girdle Pain

Fanny Bone Ache aka Pregnancy Pelvic Girdle Pain

It started about 20 weeks into my third pregnancy – a searing pain, shooting through the middle of me, stopping me from moving like a normal human being, let alone walking without wincing. It commonly became known in my house as “Fanny-Bone Ache”; there was no other way of describing it – it was a severe ache of the bones around my nether regions. I’d pleasantly bumbled along through pregnancy 1 and 2, none the wiser that this thing actually existed – no one had mentioned it, it wasn’t covered in the myriad of baby books I poured over as a first-time mum and 2006-2007 (first pregnancy years) weren’t big for internet in terms of mums chatting to one another. So, when at 20 weeks I found myself waddling and limping like a Christmas-ripe goose with a twisted ankle (do poultry have ankles?) and, suffering quite badly with a pain similar to that time I underestimated the height of the metal bollard whilst leap frogging, I felt as though my little pregnancy bubble had somewhat deflated.

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When Did (my) Kids Become So Useless?

When Did (my) Kids Become So Useless?

Ok, be warned this might get a little bit sweary!

When did modern day kids become so fucking useless? I mean this in a very loving, motherly way – as in, why the hell can’t kids seem to do anything for themselves anymore? I don’t want to set my little birds free from the nest, when they one day head off into the big wide world (the day will come right?), for them to trip over the first man-hole cover in the drive because they didn’t think to look where they were going.

My little rant observation, comes after a Saturday during which…

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