A Short Story of Hope Pinched from My Instagram {Life After Divorce & Depression}

I often worry that I fill my Instagram stories with mundanity only rivaled by a ‘lifer’ in solitary confinement; the day-to-day drivel which remains on repeat week after week – it’s my life, I love it, but I’m perfectly aware that it’s not for everyone entertainment-wise! It lacks the ingenuity of Nicola of the wonder-stories-tastic WeeSlice, the mothering hilarity of Susiejverrill and the warm, encouragement (and llama enabling) of Gemma, Mutha.hood . Then I get a late night email reminding me exactly why I need to share those insignificant, ‘nothing’ moments/minutes/days – it’s hope and to someone, somewhere, that’s exactly what they need.

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Meet The Jams | The Financial Truth

I’d be fibbing if I said The Mumsnet thread hadn’t rocked my somewhat rainbow hued boat; or, at least temporarily punctured my Instagram-bubble of confidence in people’s kindness. I’d managed to learn from its well-hidden teaching with regards to a layperson’s understanding of all the garb surrounding #ad or #gifted and adjust my posts to ensure no one was left unclear as to whether money had changed hands, I’d been sent a freebie or if it required #Ipayforshittoo! I’d taken the constructive feedback and managed to move on to a more positive place, until the subtext of that thread was thrust back in my path amongst the comments on my instagram, similar to a mouthful-of-Weetabix sneeze coming your way – it was unexpected, a bit grainy and not wholly welcome.

It was a well-meaning comment on an average Instagram post; the image is irrelevant to this tome, but the comment, in part, tickled my goat again.  It’s the perception that ALL “insta-mums” are “well-off/middle-class” and occasionally flouted as “elitist” that irks my tits.

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The Truth Behind THAT Picture

It was only last week I was waxing lyrical about being real when it comes to being a mummy – how for every pic that makes it to my instagram feed there have been at least 10 almost identical images, just not quite so flattering. With 5 boys in tow from 0-13 getting everyone in one frame, looking in roughly the same direction and without flipping the bird, is nothing short of a miracle . So, on these rare occasions I plaster that bloody pic everywhere in the same way a fashionista might brandish her black, snakeskin Berkin bag she found in a charity shop for £4.99! Yes, that’s how I feel about the wonder of a picture featuring all 5 boys, in some semblance of “acceptable” – like I’ve stumbled across a £30k bag for a couple of quid!

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Are You a Social Media Stalker?

Have you ever rocked up to an event, to spot that special someone? You want to run up to them, throw your arms around them and screech “How are you? How are the kids?”… only… View Post

The Rise of the Monochrome Mummy

I’m seriously into my Instagram right now, in fact, scrap that – I love my IG! But I’ve noticed there’s something on my feed which gives me more visual pleasure than other images: a slightly… View Post