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Category: baby

Mummy, I’m not a baby anymore

  Today (October 3rd 2016) my three year old son walked up to me in the kitchen and shattered my heart. “Mummy” I heard. The word I hear perhaps two thousand times a day and am ashamed to tell you makes me flinch more times than not. I was busily tidying up the debris from the kitchen and uttered “mmm?” “I’m not a baby anymore.” he said. Out of nowhere. Blindsided. I looked down at him in his penguin pyjamas. His pure, pale face staring up at me. His perfect brown eyes shining, waiting for a response. I started to breathe again and felt my eyes heavy with tears forcing their way out. “I know.” I said. And then started to cry in a way mums cry in front…

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Soft play: The Satanic cesspit of despair

It was on Friday, at around 10am, as I sat crossed legged trying not to show the room my granny knickers, on the PVC floor, wearing odd socks, in a tiny sweaty square next to a tinier ball pool watching my son take part in some sort of world record for how many balls in the ball pit he could caress with his tongue and teeth, me playing the “whose turd can I smell now?” game, wondering where my unsupervised precious first born was, because let’s face it, he’s on his own now, watching several women shovel thick cut yellow chips into their mouths eyeing Jeremy Kyle on the screen (and not their children) all the while protecting my one year old from the heavy set unsupervised nine year…


Please don’t wake your baby brother up

Every single morning starts the same. 4am. And yes we have black out blinds, and yes we have a sodding Gro-clock, and yes we have tried later bedtimes, earlier bedtimes, no naps, naps, more food, less food. The only thing we haven’t tried at this point is a tranquilliser gun, but if they manufactured a toddler safe medically approved one – I think we would go for it. But that’s ok though because he is three now and is fairly self sufficient. He can be left to enjoy squash and toast, playing with his trains in his room specifically designed for self sufficient play with trainess. He even has his own telly now. Happy days. The foil to our cunning plan is two fold. Firstly he can not seem…

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The Tiny Shoe

  It’s hard to put my finger on the moment that we knew but I think it all came down to a tiny little shoe   Oh the things that we’ll do the people that we’ll see once it resumes to just being little old you and little old me   we can have actual adults around have grown up dinner parties without having to stop between courses to wipe those little arses   we can have a clean home i’ll bring in a ‘no shoes’ law no porridge, dribble and lego strewn across our floor   we can go to foreign places to couples only resorts we can lounge around on cruises not a single child friendly caravan thought   we can Kondo the shit out of life…

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