Fear of Flying – With Kids

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.

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Mum of Boys | Things I Never Knew

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…

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Mummy Grumble: Another School Costume

Thank god for that- school’s out for Easter! At this point, most mums I know would be staring at me with puzzled looks at my jubilant sigh of relief that the holidays have arrived. Two whole weeks with my rabble is far from a mother-earth, bond with your kids kinda experience – more of a “I need a G&T!” by 10am kinda saga, as I become an on-demand dinner lady for a fortnight. So, my joy at no more school is not that I get some quality time with my munchkins (well, just a tad!) but the fact I no longer have to be super-mum for the school’s pleasure – no more fancy-dress days, Easter bonnet competitions, sponsorship forms, cake sales………

Anyone under the impression that by the time your little humans head off to school that your life will become easier has clearly never encountered a school newsletter, PTA email or school office text reminder. Once the two eldest boys started at our quaint, village primary school, I was all prepared for days filled with work, evenings preparing dinner and chatting about our days activities then skipping off to bed at a reasonable hour. Oh how wrong could one mama be?!

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Mum Vs Roller-Disco

Every Friday, without fail, the 7 yr old skips out of school, with an eager face asking – “can we go to the roller-disco tonight, pleeeeeeeaaaassseee?”. It’s a blessing and a curse that our local leisure centre fling open their doors every Friday night for a weekly rave on wheels – super that kids have a great place to expend that end-of-week excess energy but a bloody nightmare for any adult tasked with accompanying them; leaving me with the resounding feeling I must have done something wrong in a former life!

Why?I hear you say, would an event where the kids get to roll around like the cast of starlight express on a methamphetamine induced high, burning energy, getting excerise all whilst socialising with their peers, be a bad thing?! Ha, the people asking that question have clearly never experienced a village leisure centre roller-disco as an adult – so let me take you on a sensory journey, my roller-disco hell which I experience every Friday night…

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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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