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Tag: children

Good Lord, he really is a little shit isn’t he darling?

  You could never have met anyone on this planet more desperate, more excited and more suited to be a grandparent than my mother. She had me, her perfect only child, obviously, and then began her wait to become a grandma. She waited a long thirty years. I saw her disappointed face after every relationship went sour. I think she thought it might never happen. However, I was slightly worried about telling her I was pregnant as it wasn’t great timing, wasn’t planned, and I was living in sin in a fairly new relationship. I took a deep breath in Costa coffee and told her “you’re going to be a grandma.” I apologise to the patrons of Costa that morning who were witness to a lady shrieking, screaming, howling and…

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Why Mums Can’t Diet

This morning I trundled my large arse off to play group with my youngest son. I only fully woke up about five minutes in when he smacked a tambourine off my right tit and started trying to choke himself on a mini maraca. I realised where I was and looked around the room at the other mums dancing to “the magic ring” (insert joke here) looking like bloody idiots. To stop myself from smashing my skull into the opposite wall in time with the bananas in pyjamas song, I started to think about my diet plans for the day ahead. Gluten free toast for a late breakfast with some nut butter and a banana I mused. Some fancy herbal tea throughout the day to keep hydrated I thought. pulses…

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Smelly Poos

Smelly Poos Don’t whinge about your husband some people don’t have a husband or a boyfriend for that matter or friends even – to have a coffee with, and a natter some people are lonely and despair if he won’t fill the dishwasher, do you really care? You could be widowed, or too ugly for a man hold on to him Ducky, for as long as you can. Don’t go on and on about how much you loathe your job don’t you know some people have to thieve and rob? some people can’t get an interview or type a CV some can’t get their head around a bloody PC. Don’t moan about your dinner, praying to Venus oh if you could just. be. thinner Some people don’t have meals,…

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Don’t holiday with children – recalculating. The Journey, part 1.

  A holiday with my mother and my two children always begins the same: An arrangement to be picked up at a specific early time by mother, say 8am and a short text the night before to double check time and an assurance that the weekend will be an opportunity for me to relax. The morning comes with several frenzied texts at 6am checking if I am ready and will I be ready early, a warning not to pack too much and a semi veiled threat that money has been paid to get in early so I better be ready on time. You can practically feel the sense of relaxation wash over me as I battle with a baby and a zealous toddler into outfits and scramble 75% of…

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