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.

View Post

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…

View Post

The Pleasures of Motherhood – Ironing & More

I think it happened somewhere between the episiotomy and the endless sleepless nights, a seismic shift in my pleasure receptors and what I consider a reward. Once upon a time I took great pleasure in travelling, new shoes, finding the right shade of lip gloss with a zero hair-stick factor – I’m not saying these things no longer give me pleasure, but these days they are considered more of a luxury. After having children, the little time vampires have an effect on how you view menial tasks; perhaps it’s because prior to the little second-suckers entering our lives we would freely roam super markets, taking minutes deliberating over which fresh juice one might prefer to sup in peace on a lazy Sunday morning, or leisurely separate, not only lights from darks but, silks from wool as we generously applied a suitable washing solution based on the fabric composition.

But not only do I dream fantasise of a trip to Waitrose (sod it, I’d be just as thrilled with a Lidl these days) on my own, for at least an hour, without having to separate what looks like Tyson Vs Holyfield in the bakery dept as my 7 & 8 yr old go hell for leather for the third time whilst childless twenty-somethings gawk in disbelief, but I find myself ranking household chores into things I must do first before I’m allowed to move on to the more “fun” tasks.

View Post

Mother of Boys – The Fear of Guests

Last Wednesday was a very exciting day (at least in my books), after weeks and weeks of waiting the architect was finally coming to our house to reveal the plans for our much needed extension (in case you haven’t seen the last blog about this, check it out!). The thrill, the wonder, the anticipation was nearly overwhelming, but this was soon taken over by The Fear!! The fear that only a mother of boys could possibly appreciate.

View Post

Happy Pride – What my 4 yr Old thought of the Boy with 2 Mummies!

Just a short and sweet post from me today with a little nod to all the fab festivities going on in London – erm, you might have heard of this colourful little thing called PRIDE!…

View Post