Category Archives: Comedy

Last Day Of School Holidays – Welcoming The Return With Open Arms.

💃 It’s the last day of the school holidays and I can’t say I’m not doing a little victory dance 💃

This time last year I was preparing for George’s first ever day of preschool, and let’s just say I wasn’t in a great place. Read all about it here. He cried, I cried, I pretty much cried my way through September. But it got easier. We both made friends, fab friends who we now have the most fun with. The little shits weren’t that bad and in this past year George has more than learnt to handle himself or deal with tricky situations. For all the anxious Mama’s packing their children off to their first day, I promise you, it gets better.

I’ll always remember pre motherhood seeing mums saying “is it time for the kids to go back to school yet…hurry the fuck up”

And my innocent little mind was thinking “oh why do you mothers detest your children so much?!”

“You asked for those little buggers, why aren’t you cherishing every gorgeous hair on their head every moment of your blessed day!” (Laughs deliriously)

And then I became a Mama. I put my kid in nursery and school holidays were still life as normal for me. Then due to circumstances beyond my control, I had to take him out of nursery. He got a place at the local government preschool system last September.

I never forget the realisation that every school holiday I would have to look after my OWN child 24/7 for a week or more! Now in all honesty the first half term in October was a blesséd relief. I think we both cried our way through September and we needed to get ‘our’ time back.

Cut to today when we are on the last day of our first experience of SIX WHOLE WEEKS of the schools being closed. I’m not going to lie. It’s flown by in a funny kind of way. All these plans we had and we didn’t get around to half of them. Seeing all these posts of “you only get 18 summers with your child” aren’t helpful.

On the one hand you are thinking “Fuck” I’ve got to make this summer all singing, all dancing, cherish every minuscule moment of every day. On the other you are thinking this was totally written by someone that doesn’t have kids! What teenager spends every day of the summer with their Mum! I’m thinking we’ve got 10 summers together max!

Anyway, that’s neither here or there. Facing facts, me and George are bored of one another. My creative enthusiasm for playing and inventing new activities is at its lowest. Owing mostly to the fact I spend ages setting something up, he looks at it and just wants to watch television or do something else. I don’t think he even knows what he wants anymore.

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Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that….

George has pretty much refused to be looked after by any family or friends this summer so it’s been full on. As a result he has tested our parenting boundaries something chronic.

He so badly needs to go back to preschool and gain some discipline and control over his behaviour. Listening to people in charge that aren’t his parents. I have huge respect to the preschool workers who take care of our little darlings each session.

We have resorted to a behaviour chart but that’s another story for another day.

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So all the mamas I silently judged pre motherhood, this is my apology to you. Looking after your own kid for 6 full weeks is bloody intensive. And don’t read this in a “she’s a cold hearted bitch” kinda way. Most mamas know I’m being facetious. Us mamas are only human and we have to have time off being in charge of mini humans.

I literally feel like tomorrow when I drop him off will be the biggest relief. Not least because I’m still not sure if he will get upset and make drop offs difficult as he did for the majority of last year. He loved it once he’s there. I’ve seen the pictures and videos as proof. Often I can see or hear he’s stopped crying before I’m out of the playground.

And what will I be doing? Well I have a few more things to prepare before my big revelation about why I’ve been so optimistic and positive of late. (Although this post really isn’t indicative of this ) .

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And when I go to pick George up I’m hoping I find a child that’s refreshed and ready to adore my company again and me him. He literally said to me, can you go out and not come back please so me and Daddy can just watch Knightrider. Thanks kid. Love you too. I’m totally ready for him to be someone else’s problem for three hours.

How do you feel about the school holidays. Baring in mind we are still going through the toddler tantrum stage. My stance may change as the years progress. Are the long summer holidays  even necessary? Couldn’t we just break up the other terms?

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

Meditating to distraction

Meditating seemed like a good idea at the end of an intense day. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately with a lot of changes life changing decisions being made at home. I’ve never meditated before, nor do I know how.

But briefly I figured that imagining myself on a desert island, toes in the sand, crystal clear water lapping around me was the perfect start. Eyes shut and lying back on my bed, I could see it. I have a pretty vivid imagination anyway but I could see how blue the water was. I could almost feel the warmth of the sand. The sun on my bare back. With my wind chime gently clinking in the back garden, the scene was set!

And then suddenly…a wood pigeon, yeah that’s right, the cooing of a wood pigeon. Then a bloody man rides past on a bicycle. Focus, focus. You are losing your way here. But I can’t get that orange fence out the corner of my eye. Just in the middle of my perfect beach scene. And then a neighbour pops their head over the fence, BBQ tongues in hand, and asks if I want a hotdog?

The to do list starts to creep back into my head and…fuck it! I’m back on the bed!

Next time I might try it with earplugs. I can see why a lot of Mamas opt for wine instead.

Please note, pinch of salt not provided with this post.

Until next time…

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

My Life, The Comedy Sketch Show – No Use Crying Over Spiders And Spilt Paint

My life often feels like a comedy sketch show.

“Who wants to read about your life!” I hear you cry.

Well, you for starters otherwise how did you find yourself here eh (winks slyly whilst dodging a virtual slap). So I’ve always had a knack for making my seemingly normal and pretty average life seem a little more entertaining. I don’t know if it’s my ability to see the positive in everything that allows me to give my everyday situation a lighthearted edge. But nonetheless I often feel like if I was starring in my own episode of “Friends”, in that I may get a few titters if anyone was watching in.

So it’s been a few crazy weeks. Ain’t it always!

The other day something which at first seemed initially terrifying, soon became absolutely hilarious. I was in hysterics. After the shock subsided and my heart rate went down of course.

I literally try my damnedest to make sure George doesn’t develop arachnophobia., or any phobia for that matter! I had it myself up until a few years ago when we accidentally cured it with hypnotherapy. It was bad.

Every Time I was in an enclosed space with one I would scream or cry or both. Enclosed being a room in my own house! I love gardening but hubs would often find me doing some weird strip dance in the garden where I convinced myself one had crawled in my clothes. I used to even get colleagues to catch them in the corridor at work. Just in case it made its way into our department.

So arachnophobia majorly tamed, I’m pretty brave and even catch the buggers now! So this is how a pretty ordinary Friday went down.

I was washing up in the kitchen, seriously I feel like I live at the kitchen sink! We were due to go out and I knew my mum would be turning up whilst we was out. She always walks straight in and does the washing up if I haven’t. So in an effort to show her at 34 I’m a responsible adult and I have actually washed up the breakfast stuff by mid afternoon here I was.

George was merrily eating a kinder egg and watching Zootropolis of all things in the lounge next door. Suddenly he started screaming. The I’m-being-kidnapped-by -a-maniac-that’s-climbed-In-The-Window kind of scream. I ran in and as my eyes scanned the area, I saw a daddy long legs climbing up his bare thigh!

I’m usually all like “oh hi mr skinny legs, how can we help you today” when we see a spider. But the poor kid was just sitting there clutching his kinder egg and screaming, tears rolling down his cheeks. I smacked the spider with a nearby cushion then grabbed George and whisked him off the settee to the floor. As I gave him a hug to calm him, I showed him the defeated spider laying stunned on the settee.

He had a kinder egg so to be fair the situation calmed pretty quick. I told him I wasn’t scared I was just shocked by his screaming. As I wiped his tears and removed the spider I began laughing hysterically (although I also do this when I’m nervous). George smirked as I explained why it was actually quite funny. So fingers crossed that’s turned that into a happy memory and not a future phobia.

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I don’t know about you but I’m a huge advocate for women being self sufficient. Despite having been in a long term relationship for 20 years, I don’t believe in man jobs and woman’s jobs. You may often see me use the hashtag jokingly embracing my inner pussycat doll with #Idontneedamantomakeithappen. I grew up watching my mum take her hand to everything and was encouraged to do the same. Not always successfully. Read all about the time I used an aerosol to hammer in a nail here.

So in our house I’m Jackie of all trades. Cooking, cleaning, DIY, decorating, gardening, changing a car battery, you name it, I can do it, or I’ll give it a go. So here I was painting our bedroom. We stupidly painted 3 of the walls brown when we moved in ten years ago. A vision of chocolate and duck egg blue was achieved but it was time to neutralise it as we are looking to sell up.

So here’s me on day two of white washing the walls with a magnolia emulsion. Day one went great. I painted the whole room in the last hour before preschool pick up. Then gave it a second coat after picking George up. Don’t ever let it be said that you can’t get shit done with a toddler around. All you need is an iPad and a pack of Haribos.

So day two and it needs a final coat. I’ve just about enough of my lush satin paint to finish the three walls. Let me set you a scene. The furniture is all pushed to the middle of the room. The tele is covered with a dust sheet in case there’s any splash back. I pick up the tub of paint, place it on the windowsill (yeah you see where this is going) proceed to prise the lid off. It’s a little stuff after using it the day before.

It pops off quite forcefully, the tub flips….the end of the divan, the bed sheets, the laminate flooring covered! Thick oozing paint. Thankfully hubs was due to go out in ten minutes but was still around because at that moment I really did need a man to make it happen! I needed him to lift the bed whilst I got the paint off the leg and stopped it being smeared across the floor. Lots of kitchen roll and wet wipes later (yet another use for wet wipes) and everything was clean. We lost the bed sheets but they were looking tired anyways.

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Image Courtesy of Pexels.com

The bastard paint was now over half gone, Luckily I managed to mix some other paint in to make it go further and the bedroom is now looking lush, it virtually glows in the dark! Moral of the story? Open paint on the bloody floor with the dust sheet down already you twat!

I literally couldn’t wait to tell my mum and sisters as it took us all right back to our childhood. My step dad John was up a ladder, paint on the top of her ladder, carpet down…you guessed it. The poor watering can got kicked all the way down the garden as me and step sis were sent to McDonalds to get a large milkshake to cheer him up.

I’d like to point out that no watering cans were harmed in the writing of this post, none made after the year 1995 anyway 😜

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

My life, The Comedy Sketch Show -Two Weddings, A Missing Diamond, And What’s That Clicking Noise!

My life often feels like a comedy sketch show.

“Who wants to read about your life!” I hear you cry.

Well, you for starters otherwise how did you find yourself here eh (winks slyly whilst dodging a virtual slap). So I’ve always had a knack for making my seemingly normal and pretty average life seem a little more entertaining. I don’t know if it’s my ability to see the positive in everything that allows me to give my everyday situation a lighthearted edge. But nonetheless I often feel like if I was starring in my own episode of “Friends”, in that I may get a few titters if anyone was watching in.

These past couple of weeks have been hectic, crazy, fabulous, stressful madness. We have attended two wedding weekenders, got some amazing shots in the New Forest, a week in the Isle of Wight, One airshow, visited several family members,and the rest of life in between.

Our trip began to Southampton to watch one of hubs maternal cousins get married. It was a beautiful day and anyone that knows me, knows how much I love weddings. I have recently written about my own wedding here .

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We managed to sneak away in between the wedding breakfast and evening ceremony to get George to nap. Hubs took us on one of our favourite and awe-inspiring drives, The New Forest. We first discovered The New Forest last year on a staycation at Sandy Balls (yes that really is the resort name). This time around and with me looking a bit better than my standard mum life get up, we captured some beautiful shots with the horses. This is one of my faves.

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As we headed back for the evening reception hubs programmed his satnav and off we went. It felt like we had been driving forever when I knew we had only gone 20 minutes down the road getting there. Suddenly hubs stopped.

Hubs: “Oh shit, Mum asked me during breakfast how far away the ferry terminal was for tomorrow. I programmed it into the nav to show her”

Me: “What does that mean?”

Hubs “It means we are just coming into the ferry terminal! We’re half an hour away from the wedding venue now”

Well you can imagine my face. We were using my valuable vodka drinking time after all.

The first of our beautiful wedding weekenders over, we headed on with the in-laws, straight to catch the ferry for a week in the Isle of Wight. This shall be known as the holiday were many “fucks” were uttered.

After our first day at our holiday home, I called my Mum. I was speaking to her when I looked down and realised my engagement ring, which belonged to my Nan and is over 75 years old had lost the diamond! The only diamond! Gone! “Fuck” My Mum told me not to panic and whilst everything in me told me I should be distraught and crying…I wasn’t. I’m so precious of my ring. It’s not worth much monetary wise, but sentimentally it means the absolute world to me.

Cue me and hubs crawling round on our hands and knees in a 4 storey townhouse with thick beige carpets! It was a dead-end before we started. It was never found. I suspect it’s now floating through the sewers of the Isle of wight. My Mum has since paid for it to be replaced and reset. It’s such a good feeling to have it back on my finger, looking its beautiful self. I hope my Nan loves it as much as I do.

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Our lovely little holiday home may have had 4 floors but they packed in enough furniture that tripping over things was easy. On the first day, pre diamond disaster, I walked into a chair leg and spent the night sleeping with my little toe throbbing. Our room was in the loft and it was so hot and stuffy even with the windows wide open.

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That night I woke up to a weird noise. It was a loud horn. I wondered if it was some sort of thing only Islanders knew about. Did we have to evacuate. Hubs was still awake so I asked him. It was a fog horn. No need to evacuate. Where the fuck we would evacuate to I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that bit through. The fog horn continued most nights on and off for the duration of our stay and I soon realised why the houses are so cheap there!

But my beautiful town house woes did not end there. We were on a budget due to the wedding hotel blocking some of our money accidentally. Hubs was eager to try the nachos when we went out for lunch but decided it would be cheaper if I made some that evening. Mine is better anyways. I picked up a nacho kit (which I never use!) and set about making us an evening snack. I found a cheese grater and the cheese grater found me.

It turns out this was the mo-fo of cheese graters. I’m used to a flat grater and this was round…. it wasn’t long before I lost something else….one of my knuckles! Fuck!

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This pic is the day after. It really fucking hurt! My Nan in law was threatening to try and flap the skin back over whilst hubs was asking if I needed stitches. It was comedic stupidity at its finest. Vom!

Just to top it all off, hubs and I have been trying for another baby but to no avail. No violin needed. My body is in such a state at the moment. So we kind of had the choice to stop made for us as I’m under a consultant for severe hip pain. I’ve had it the last 2 years or more but the last few weeks it’s got really life limiting and it’s not improving. So adding baby weight to my body wouldn’t have been sensible.

The doctor gave me some strong anti-inflammatories to help me deal with the pain. I read the stupid leaflet, which you should never do, because someone has always reported something horrific. And there it was;

…may affect your chances of falling pregnant as ovulation can be affected. Should you fall pregnant whilst taking these tablets, please tell your doctor immediately as they can cause mutations to the unborn child…

All sounding fabulous so far! So I decided I’ll take them to get me through the next month of events and hope everything goes back to normal, I’d already ovulated that month as I was due on my period the day of the wedding (what joy!).

Cue mid holiday madness in the house of horrors as I realise my period is 7 days late! For Fudge sake! Not now! Off to the shop I go, standard pregnancy test I always get (I’ve done a lot of these things ya know). Nothing! No literally I mean nothing! It’s a bloody void test! What are the actual chances? I’ve never had a void test. Back to the shop, I pick up 2 this time just in case…negative. Thank God. Although its weird feeling when only a month ago I was using all my eyelash wishes for the opposite. Do people still wish on their eyelashes?

One trip home from the Isle of Why Me! And another beautifully glorious wedding, whereby hubs tested the theory of whether you can sing church hymns whilst impersonating Johnny Cash…you can. And we are back home.

Whilst I love a staycation, I feel I’m ready to venture further into the big wide world for our future holidays. I feel I owe it to George. I’ve found some fab tips on How To Plan The Perfect Family Holiday .

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But wait… listen closely…yep that’s me. Everytime I stop my engine there is a weird clicking noise. Now it’s not the typical engine cooling down clicking noise, and we have actually discovered the clicking noise happens even if you just turn the key to ignite the battery and not the engine so who the hell knows.

What I do know is, I took it to the garage and approached them with the query;

“At the risk of sounding like a complete woman…there is a strange clicking noise coming from my engine”

I absolutely hate it when garages treat me like a “silly” woman. Like we can be fobbed of and spoken to like an idiot because it’s a car and cars are for men or some such shit like that. Ooh I wonder if I’ve just noticed a gap in the market for all female mechanics? You can get women only gyms and taxis so why not.

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Image courtesy of www.pexels.com

So the guy is none the wiser. Guesses at the throttle flap and says they will call me with a quote. They don’t. I also inform him that I’ve recently made a discovery via the wonders of Youtube that if your electronic car window is stuck you can close it with this snazzy trick.

Slam the door hard, whilst holding your finger on the window up button. It works! Something about jolting the connection.

So one week and no phone call later, hubs and I, ok hubs gets the credit for this. He discovers that the clicking happens without actually starting the engine. He takes it back to the garage and tells me they’ve booked it in for next Tuesday and will charge me £35 to “take a look”!

“Huh! They looked at it for nothing when I took it!” I say “what the heck did you do!”

The next morning I called the garage, and explained. The receptionist repeatedly asked me if I realised where they were and if had the right place. I was getting rather exasperated because I knew exactly who and where they were. They didn’t have any record of my husband booking the car in.

It’s now we find out the REAL reason my car was looked at for free! Whilst relaying the story to hubs when he got home from work, he pipes up that he had actually taken the car to a different garage. The garage that I shouted out “…and don’t take it to xxx garage because we had a bad experience!” That explains the fee! My garage doesn’t charge! Doh! The next morning I returned to MY garage with my tail between my legs to offer an apology for my idiot husband.

My car is now fixed, thankfully, and the clicking noise has stopped. Halejuah!

It’s all fun and games eh! I’d totally love to read about some of your recent crazy life tales in the comments below.

Parenthood epitomised with epic song lyrics

I think I’ve spent way too long living with hubs in that I now randomly walk around at home singing. Sometimes it’s songs that have already been made, other times the poet in me makes up little rhymes to summarise whatever emotions or activities I’m going through. I’d actually love to be a songwriter, but not a singer, save that role for someone who can actually hold a tune.

This is a side of me that no one except hubs and George see as I manage to stifle it if we go away with family. People often laugh when I say I am shy but in certain areas that I lack confidence, my shyness prevails.

Since I became a Mama to George and quit my career in pharmacy, I spend ever-increasing amounts of time at home. Often not seeing many other adults in person for more than a few minutes. The joys, stresses and tribulations of parenting go unnoticed by the world and so I need an outlet for dealing with the variety of emotions a parent at home with a child goes through in a day.

This outlet is song. As I warble my way around the house I find myself singing songs to express how I’m feeling. It is by doing this that I’ve discovered some artists are unknowingly epitomising parent life…for me anyway. See if you agree. Sing along if you know it.

Sam’s Town – The Killers

“Now, why do you waste my time?
Is the answer to the question on your mind
And I’m sick of all my judges
So scared of what they’ll find
But I know that I can make it
As long as somebody takes me home
Every now and then
You know I see London; I see Sam’s Town
Pulls my hand, and let’s my hair down
Rolls that world right off my shoulder”

Kids are forever wasting our time with their indecisive whining..just my house? It’s always the wrong cup, the bread is sliced in the wrong shape, the list goes on… We have all been judged by at least one person in our role as a parent right? This song represents for me everyone who’s had their parenting skills judged. But also for everyone that just wants to have a day off of parenting, have someone grab them by the hand and take them to London or their nearest fun town so they can let their proverbial hair down. Just me?

Somebody to love – Queen and George Michael

“Ooh, each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what you’re doing to me
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just can’t get no relief, Lord!”

This opening verse completely epitomises how I feel when I get woken up at 6am or earlier each morning. Par for the course, and whilst I’m not religious I totally imagine every parent getting up and wearily singing this into the bathroom mirror whilst one or several children hang from their legs demanding milk and CBeebies. Just me?

The Lazy Song – Bruno Mars

“Today I don’t feel like doing anything
I just wanna lay in my bed
Don’t feel like picking up my phone
So leave a message at the tone
‘Cause today I swear I’m not doing anything”

I sing this song and reminisce, for just a moment, about when days like this were possible. I love and loathe the responsibility of parenting. Of course it has so many rewards but from the moment that little dot is conceived, they will forever be in your thoughts. Doing nothing at your own pace is a distant memory once you become a parent. AHHHH the days of playing GTA on the Playstation are but a distant memory lol. Still love this video though.

Cbeebies Bedtime song – Goodbye Sun, Hello Moon

“Goodbye sun
Now that the day is done
Its gonna be
Night time soon
Good bye sun
We’ll have more fun tomorrow
Now its time to say
Hello moon
Goodbye sun hello moon”

Oh come one! What self respecting doesn’t have a CBeebies tune as their current soundtrack for life! I know as soon as I start singing this song, that the daily parenting grind is nearly over as we approach the bedtime hour. George quite enjoys me singing this as he dozes off. My 13 hour slot as children’s entertainer, laundry women, caregiver, maker of food, wiper of arse is nearly over. Thus approaches my evening chill time.

I’ve very fortunate that at 3 and half, George now more or less sleeps through the night. Trust me this is only something he started in recent months and he still has his moments. I’m totally grateful for a bit of evening time to myself and hubs. I know so many friends and family, who for one reason or another don’t get this. Back when George was newborn, nighttime was most definitely not something I looked forward to.

I’m completely aware that these tunes all focus on the stresses and strains of parenting. But for every moment of difficulty, there are hundreds of moments that give your heart that warm glowy feeling.

Being a mum is the hardest thing I’ve ever done but it’s also one of the most rewarding. You don’t always feel like you are getting it right, but you know you try your hardest to make these little humans the most incredible versions of themselves they can be. And so I end with this song, which I planned on having on my birth playlist. Something I pointlessly made, thinking I would give two shites about listening to music whilst I was in labour. It a song that’s forever stuck in my mind when I realise how incredibly lucky I am to be a mama to a happy, healthy little angel.

Special Angel – Malcolm Vaughan

“You are my special angel
Sent from up above
The Lord smiled down on me
And sent an angel to love (to love)
You are my special angel
Right from paradise
I know you’re an angel
Heaven is in your eyes
The smile from your lips brings the summer sunshine
Tears from your eyes bring the rain
I feel your touch, your warm embrace
And I’m in heaven again”

I hope you’ve enjoyed listening to some of my favourite songs that, for me,epitomise parenthood. What are yours?

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

My Life, The Comedy Sketch Show, part 2 “I’ll be in the bedroom”

My life often feels like a comedy sketch show. It would be wholly appropriate for someone to follow me around, editing in slots of canned laughter at various points in my day. Today’s sketch is aimed at my bedroom antics.

I’m not some ditzy, brainless knob head. Ok maybe the knob head part could apply to me. I pride myself on being relatively intelligent. I aim to try and learn something new every day.

Intelligence aside, and no I’m not arrogant, I’m just not afraid to highlight my positive traits and confidence. Trust me I’m happy to point out my flaws and ugly traits too. So intelligence aside, I somehow manage to lack a certain amount of common sense.

I think a lot of problems with common sense were apparent back in school days. The teachers used to say the answer was right there in front of me. But I was alway looking past the easy answer and searching for the more complex answer. Believing problems are never solved with the easy answer.

Just in case my lack of common sense isn’t enough of a giggle for you, my knob bead tendencies also mean I regularly put my foot in it when talking to people. Usually people can see the funny side as it’s never intended in an offensive way. I always go out of my way to make people happy.

This week has been hectic, preparing for holiday and lots of birthdays to buy for and send out and visit people. The washing pile is always the Bain of my life. We had booked for my friends hubs, Mike, to come and renew our fence. He’s a fab handyman and has now hand made us a beautiful fence for the front of our house.

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The evening before, chatting to hubs about our plans for the next day, I said to him I would be putting washing away up in our bedroom whilst our friend Mike replaced the fence.

I often play through scenarios of how events and situations will go. In my head I thought about offering Mike a cuppa and then using my child free time to get the clean washing put away, maybe even packing for holiday. George would be at preschool so it would get done in no time. I would want Mike to know that I wasn’t going to stand and watch him work but that I’d be available if he wanted a drink making or if he needed to run anything past me. Then it popped into my head;

“If you want me Mike, I’ll just be in the bedroom!”

Yeah that sounds wholly inappropriate! Way to give our newly made friends the wrong impression about me. Smiling to myself at the idiocy of this, had I actually said it without pre-thinking it, hubs asked me what I was smiling at. I told him and he laughed and promptly declared me a knob head which we do, cussing and sarcasm is our thing.

I thought it was funny, so the next day I told Mike the story anyways. Then I thought I’d better text his wife in case they were both new to my humour and he went home and declared me a home wrecker. And people say I over think things! (Shrugs and winks)

On the subject of Mike, and no I’m not obsessed he’s just pretty much one of the few adults I’ve spent time with this week. I messaged him the day before the impending fence job to tell him I had cleared the bits in the garden and woke up all the big spiders. Remember Fred? He replied;

“Marvellous, no creepy little buggers to deal with, hopefully”

“No,” I responded by tapping into my messenger “I’ll keep George indoors out of the way” Gave hubs a titter.

We have this thing, me and hubs. We’ve agreed that he kind of sets the bar for whether something is funny or not. It actually takes a lot to make me laugh. Except myself. I can bring myself to hysterics, I’m talking crying with laughter. Aside from Dad jokes, I’m slow on the uptake and whilst I might smile and appreciate the hilarity of something, it’s rare I proper belly laugh. So hubs is the decider on whether something is funny.

I thought my response to Mike was pretty clever, made me smile so it must’ve been funny. I told hubs and he smiled. One more for the canned laughter crowd.

Finally for this week, on the advice of another friend, I thought I’d share with you another knob head decision. We are almost a year since George was potty trained, yet we go through phases of him wetting himself several times a day. Not fancying a million accidents on our roadtrip, I thought I’d dash out early this morning and grab some pull-up’s. So focused on price…one brand was £7 was 20 odd! I grabbed the supermarket own brand. They had a choice of pink or blue (let pull-ups be pull-ups ffs!). Grabbing the blue, I paid and headed home.

Uber efficient I shredded the receipt before tearing open the pack and asking George to take his kecks off so we could put the pull-up on ready for our trip. As a grabbed a pull-up I thought it rather large. I’ve bloody picked up a pack for 8-12 year olds! Dammit! The branding is slightly misrepresentative, as friends have pointed out. What a twat. Off hubs went to buy the right size.

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Moral of the story? Don’t shop on an empty stomach before 8am in the morning when you have a million things to do in your head and a time restraint. Just pay the £7!

Have you done or said anything silly this week? Go on, try and make me smile.

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

My life, the comedy sketch show.

It occured to me that much of this blogging malarkey is focused around writing about your life. Should anyone actually be interested. But much of what us bloggers write are now well thought out, controversial, educational pieces. That’s when we are not writing reviews. But what about the mundane, everyday realities of life?

“Who wants to read about your life!” I hear you cry.

Well, you for starters otherwise how did you find yourself here eh (winks slyly whilst dodging a virtual slap). So I’ve always had a knack for making my seemingly normal and pretty average life seem a little more entertaining. I don’t know if it’s my ability to see the positive in everything that allows me to give my everyday situation a lighthearted edge. But nonetheless I often feel like if I was starring in my own episode of “Friends” that I may get a few titters if anyone was watching in.

Today has been a fine example. After conquering this mornings toddler meltdown before 6am, I dropped the Georgeous off at preschool. There are some great mums at the preschool and we often have a little chat. We got to talking about my mornings childfree plans.

I’ve got a bit of a crazy week trying to organise the house in prep for going away. We also have a friend coming to fit us a new fence and gate tomorrow. Checkout Bored Monkey UK for your Essex craft and handyman needs.

So I was explaining to my fellow mamas the need to move bits away from the fence in prep. My reluctance being, that I knew a huge spider was living in that vicinity with who knows how many of his mates. One of the mama’s amusingly named him Fred and then off I went home to tackle Fred and his temporary eviction.

Fred was the least of my worries. On the way home I stopped in town to collect hubs meds from the chemist. As I was walking along I noticed a bank note on the floor. With no one close by and it being right in the middle of the path, I picked it up, wondering who could have dropped it. The owner nowhere obvious in sight. On closer inspection it was a Nigerian bank note for 500 Naira. I popped it in my bag and decided to Google its value whilst I was walking along. I wanted to know how much I was dealing with here before deciding how best to find its owner. As much as you can with an abandoned note.

Shit! It came up it’s worth £1,030 great british pounds! I suddenly felt like I was in too deep! Who carries a grand’s worth of note on them. It was fresh, not damp so it’s obviously been dropped recently. Shall I hang around and see if anyone comes wandering back looking for it?

I check for CCTV camera’s thinking the person could maybe find it that way using local shops. I couldn’t see any. I called hubs and he told me if it’s unclaimed after 30 days it’s effectively finders keepers. We have a local Facebook page I could post it to, but how best to word it so I don’t just get a chancer claiming it. After all it’s a currency note. It’s not easy to prove the owner.

Then my little devil kicked in. Of course I would feel absolutely terrible keeping it secret and spending it but we are all guilty of thinking a little naughty sometimes. But that poor person. What did they draw it out for? What was they going to spend it on? But George would love a trampoline and a fancy wooden playset in the garden. Hmmm.

I called hubby back. He’d now pulled over on his way to work as his cogs were turning. The GBP is usually worth more than foreign notes. It doesn’t quite add up. With him on speaker I opened my Google and there it was. In my tired state and not fully concentrating as I was trying not to trip over loose slabs in flip flops I had entered 500,000. My discovery was actually worth just over £1. Not even enough to buy George an ice cream. Laughing at my stupidity, hubs hung up whilst I went home to tackle Fred.

Back home in the garden and Fred is happy to run off once he sees me with the broom. He’s also clearly been taking part in the Healthy Mummy UK eating plan I’ve been following (not an ad, it’s just fab) as he’s now half the size I thought he first was. CHECK IT OUT! Healthy Mummy UK

Fred and his mates had no worries. Whilst I’m not a fan of spiders, I don’t like the idea of killing them if it can be helped. I once missed my train because I was moving a worm out of harm’s way off the pavement. I accidentally squashed a woodlouse and could almost hear the echoes of his (or her) screaming family. I instantly feel dreadful that I’ve killed someones Mum, Dad, brother, sister uncle. The world of woodlouse under my paving slab is mourning his loss this evening.

Jobs done it’s time to bring the child free period to an end. My three hours are up! I’ve achieved what I had hoped, minus making myself look foolish about the note. But before I dash off to pick the Georgeous up I see a large bumble bee scrambling around in the  dirt with a thick cobweb caught on his back leg. I try to help him get it off but he keeps buzzing it me.

“Calm it mate, I’m trying to help you, you stupid fuck” Lord knows what the neighbours are thinking.

After a good few minutes I decide that turning up late to the preschool pick up because I was trying to free a pissed off Bee isn’t going to cut it. My time is well and truly over. Not before I notice a pair of ladybirds shagging on a pallet. Literally never witnessed it in my 34 years. Can cross that off the bucket list now can’t I! And just in case you were wondering…

I’ve since learnt a lot about Ladybirds! The Truth about Ladybirds . Enjoy!

What do you reckon? Did I give you chuckle? Never mind…there’s always tomorrow…

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

“We Need To Talk About The Conditions Of My Imprisonment : …and other funny parenting stories”, a book review

** Disclosure – I was sent an electronic copy of the fabulous compilation of parenting stories in return for my honest review. This does not detract from the fact that this book is fucking hilarious and I can’t lie about it!**

I was recently fortunate to be sent a digital copy of the wonderful, “We Need To Talk About The Conditions Of My Imprisonment : …and other funny parenting stories”. This compilation of rib tickling parenting stories was sent to me by the fabulous Susie.

Susie is one of my favourite bloggers over at So Happy In Town . Mrs S.H.I.T as she is known under her blog persona, is a part of this fabulous book along with many other fantastic bloggers from across the U.K, USA and Australia.

parenting stories

With a glass of some yummy cloudy lemonade in hand (it was the middle of the day!), I set about reading some of the most truthfully hilarious 186 pages of my parenting life! When I became pregnant and as the pregnancy progressed, I became rather angry with the world.

Despite researching my heart out over what to expect, this pregnancy malarkey was total BS! Don’t get me wrong, it had its magical and wondrous moments, but my word was it tough! In ways I never thought were possible, my body punished me hourly for making it endure the supposed magic of growing a child.

Cut to once the Georgeous was born and that wondrous magicalness again returned until reality hit. As hubs returned to work after his 2 weeks paternity leave, the shit storm that was now my life hit me. And yes I loved it BUT it wasn’t as other mums had led me to believe.

It was tougher than my spinal surgery which I endured as a teen and spent a year recovering from. Tougher than climbing one of the more difficult paths of Mount Snowdon in Wales as I had done in previous years. Often relentless, overwhelming,intense and sometimes depressing.

I so wish I had a book like this brought to my attention prior to becoming a mama. Now mama to a 3 year old George, it’s easy to relate to. Whilst non parenting types reading it may think you can’t possibly live like this, trust me…you can’t make this stuff up!

This collection of hilarious parenting stories has been compiled by the amazing Michelle Tan.

“Michelle is the absurdist comic writer behind the Facebook persona, Ms. Awesome, Mother Extraordinaire, where she dispenses unsolicited funny advice about surviving parenthood.”

It’ll make you feel human, restore your confidence that you aren’t actually insane and this is in fact life for many parents across the globe even! Most of all it will leave a big, fat smile calorie free on your face. Better than any glass of wine or bar of chocolate.

Get your copy here We Need To Talk About The Conditions Of My Imprisonment…and other funny parenting stories.

Press release :- 

The book will be launched at a public event on Saturday 21st April 2018 at XSCAPE, Yorkshire. There will be activities for children and many of the writers. Families will find solidarity and humour on offer throughout the day. People will be invited to share their experiences of the absurd, surreal and downright funny things about parenting.   We want to spread the message that eating their chocolate in hiding is perfectly normal because some things in life should not be shared.

The dictatorship – life with a two year old toddler.

**This post has sat in my drafts for a while, forgotten and lonely.  My toddler model is now over three years old and still thriving. But before I tell you all about how “the model” has evolved, let me take you back to a year ago when I was living with a two year old. Continuing on from one of my more popular posts Life with a toddler – the 2014 model .Enjoy!**

As the parent of a toddler, I’m finding myself under the dictatorship of a two year old. In a similar fashion to a communist regime, I’m regularly told where to sit, who to talk to, how to play certain “games”. To be honest it doesn’t feel like playing when I’m being ordered what car I can and can’t play with, and exactly where to drive it. 

Mainstream music is limited to anything on the CBeebies or nursery rhyme playlist. Disney films and CBeebies get the seal of approval but otherwise the only other programme to frequent our screens are Paw Patrol and Blaze and the Monster Machines.

Our day begins at a semi reasonable hour but orders to “go downstairs” ring out on on the toddler tannoy before I have time to even open my eyes. His lordship dictates specific rules such as;

  • The bath must be completely empty of water before exiting.
  • Face washing will only commence once there are at least three toys in the sink of water.
  • Drinks will only be drunk if provided in a container to Sir’s satisfaction.

You may be familiar with the term “terrible twos”. It’s a widely used phrase that many people now know and use. Closely followed by the supposéd “threenager” phase.  As my parenting journey began as a follower of the gentle parenting regime, I was led to believe these were not ideal terms to label a your toddler with.

However, being a good few years into this parenting shizzle I can confirm that these are inevitable stages that your mini dictator will go through. At two years old you will have days that you will swear this model truly can be terrible to be in the company of. My own experiences are teaching me that patience and calmness help.

When your mini dictator goes into terrible mode whilst in a public setting, a huge dose of trying to ignore what’s happening  goes a long way. People may stare because they either don’t have this model or they haven’t for a long time and they have forgotten what it’s like to take it out. Remain calm, composed and patient and this will help settle your mini dictator back to it’s usual lovely self whilst showing the world that “you’ve got this shit”.

So if you’ve recently installed a future mini dictator into your fine self and you are reading this, never fear, we’ve all pretty much dealt with this in year two. For anyone going through year two with their model I hope my tips help. I’m learning that the cuteness mode is ever increasing and the fun mode has now been upgraded. This upgrade allows you to enjoy their marvel at everything and days out feel a lot more worthwhile. Gone are the days where you take your early model out, waving it at fish tanks in an aquarium hoping for a reaction.

If you have read all of this and have no idea what I am going on about, please rest assured that this is a tongue in cheek account of living with a two year old. The good, the bad and the ugly.

Can you relate?

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

The year of the alternative advent calendar.

For me, 2017 will be remembered as the year that advent calendars went mad. They stepped into a whole new level. Some smart Alec (where the heck does this phrase come from?) decided that chocolate advent calendars were not enough. Cover my ears! You can now get an advent calendar containing almost anything.

Of course there have been “fill your own” advents for a while now. Mainly focused on children and adopted by parents who don’t want their precious munchkins having chocolate or because they suffer with allergies. All fab reasons.

But now our little munchkins are being indulged by the supermarkets. A couple of pound (if that, thank you Poundland) on a chocolate advent calendar will no longer suffice. You can now be nagged into buying advents anywhere from £15 upwards to £10,000 (yes really, the feature gift being a £300 Dyson hairdryer) containing Cars, Lego, Playmobil, Frozen characters. The list is endless. I know this isn’t that new but it’s got bigger and more varied this year. Everyone is in on the act.

As for the adults? Well this is where the fun really starts. Counting down to Christmas? For many this is still a celebration of the birth of Christ. So why not count down with a sex toy a day (enter monkey that sees no evil emoji here)! I’m not religious myself but I’m sure this has gone down fabulously amongst those who still hold sacred the true meaning of Christmas.

Sex toys not your thing? We’ve got wine, gin, Yankee candles, bath bombs, makeup, some YouTube girl that everyone has gone bonkers over her charging £50 for bits you can find for a quarter of the price. I just can’t even imagine how next year can top this! Will people be hitting self storage. 25 lockup’s, each containing a new Range Rover a day for the missus. Our consumerist minds have gone mad!

So this year I’ve treated myself and hubs to a little more upmarket calendar in the form of Lindt Chocolate. £5 each in Asda if you don’t mind (not an ad).  Next year I may well demand a nail varnish or bath bomb advent calendar who knows but for now I’ll sit back and enjoy my first love, milk chocolate. Mm mmm. And this little festive rhyme for your reading pleasure.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

12 Yankee candles

11 Star Wars Lego’s

10 sample scents

9 gins for drinking

8 Peppa Pig toys

7 fizzy bath bombs

6 tins of Pringles

5 wines for swigging

4 Clarins skincare

3 toot toot cars

2 nipple pasties

And a box full of stinky cheese.

I hope you enjoyed that. Hands up if your are now googling nipple pasties?

Advent

Have you and your family opted for an alternative advent calendar this year? Please share them with us. Seasons Greetings to you all.

Much love until next time.

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday