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.View Post
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.View Post
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!View Post