Birthday Party Rejection

You see the pictures on my instagram – a busy, happy and healthy brood of boys. What those pictures don’t tell you, amongst other things like the dirty laundry piled just out of shot, is that one of those beautiful boys believes he’s “not good enough”! Everyday he battles with with painfully low self-esteem, emotions he’s not equipped to control, anger that rages out of frustration to communicate effectively, and ostracisation.

But I’m not going to write about H’s anger issues as there’s no diagnosis, no cure and, at times, everyone around him is floundering for answers to help this little boy. Instead, I want to share a little of my frustration and anger – as unlike H, I’m able to highlight the exact things that make me seeth (poor Mr Only Girl!!).

Suffering from rock-bottom self-esteem has always left H looking externally for approval, none more so than that of his peers. In a bid to make/keep friends he always asked for the biggest, bestest birthday party, inviting as many people as he could remember. The planning would start 6 months in advance: the venue, the theme, the cake, the invitations – he’d make list after list of his ideal day, only comparable to a bride-zilla high on smell of luxury, letter-pressed stationary. I was always happy to go along with it, as it was something he enjoyed planning and, as a mother to a child continually alienating himself from friends due to volatility, I just wanted him to feel part of something special.

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Why I’m Dreading No More Playboy Nudity

The past week or so has seen seismic shifts in the world of showbiz, as iconic faces have passed onto better places. No longer will my children grow up in a world where David Bowie will take centre stage as a multitude of imaginative personas – giving the message: if you wear face-paint with conviction everyone will roll with it! Fortunately, both Rickman and Bowie ensured their work remain timeless and immortalised – at the flick of a switch I can show my children the importance of questioning if there’s life on Mars and the beauty of a man with eyeliner. But unlike many articles I’ve read in the past few days mourning the loss of Professor Snape and our Goblin King, it is in fact the “passing” of an institution that has me most concerned for the world my children are now going to grow up in.

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Older Mum vs Young Mum: My Experience

With older, new mums outnumbering young mums for the first time ever in 2014, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ve changed as a person and a mother in the last ten years. Last week I turned 31, I know, not THAT old but certainly a lot older than the fresh-faced 21 year old that became a mother a decade ago. But since turning 30, I’ve had the best year EVER, I’ve absolutely loved it and I’m actually looking forward to 31 ‘cos the fab-ness just keeps on rollin’! 30’s rock, and becoming a new-mum again at 30 was, and is, bloody awesome.

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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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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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