Babies, Baby, Blogging, Children, Comedy, Daddy, Dads, Family, Funny, Living with Kids, Mom, Mommy, Mum, Mummy, Mummy Blogger, Mums, Parent, Parenting, Toddler, Toddlers, Uncategorized



If kids had superpowers, what would they be? Invisibility? Flight? Super strength? These would be the obvious assumptions; however, these are no ordinary superheroes.

Let me introduce you to the SuperKids.

Wonder Whinge

Wonder Whinge1As soon as she wakes up the primary noise she will expel is whinge. Whether she’s moaning about the fact she doesn’t want the blue top on as it doesn’t go with her knickers, or because you gave her a banana with the tiniest mark on it, she will whinge and whine until the cows come home. The noise itself can turn any relatively calm parent into a stressed short tempered individual. Whinge is the kryptonite to most parents.



There’s no height too high for DangerBoy. He has zero fear and no matter how many times he’s told something is dangerous, he’ll continue. A regular visitor to the local A&E department and on first name terms with the doctors and nurses. His parents are quite sure they have a mark against their name. Injuries are merely war wounds and he will proudly show off these to any passer-by. DangerBoy is averse to the words ‘Be careful’.



If it’s green SuperFuss wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole, however chips, sweets, and chocolate seem to go down well. She can sit at a table for hours if tested and is a seasoned pro at stand offs with anyone trying to get her to consume something she doesn’t want to. Occasionally she’ll decide she wants to eat something she refused to eat the previous day. This is what is known as a mind fuss.

Captain Poopy Pants

Captain PoopyPants1Don’t let his age, height, or small stature fool you, Captain Poopy Pants could put a wild brown bear to shame. He can produce vast amounts of the ‘brown stuff’ and will always catch you when you least expect it. His favourite time to declare ‘he’s got to go’ is usually just as his mum or dad are about to step out of the door when they’re already late or in a queue with a full shopping trolley. Captain Poopy Pants can ward any enemy off with his pungent aroma. Most certainly a carbon copy of his father, Daddy Poopy Pants.

Mega No

Mega No1It doesn’t matter what you ask of Mega No, her response will always be no. Would you like to help me put away all the toys you erratically exploded around the room? “NO!” Do you like green? “No! Would you like fish fingers and beans for tea? “No!” How about I give you a million pounds? “No!” There is literally no pleasing Mega No. Even when she knows she should probably say yes, her stubborn powers prevent her. The only way to catch her out is to start a question with “You wouldn’t mind if…” and end it with “…would you?”

King Question

King Question1There is no question King Question won’t ask. He will ask you “Why?” at least 500 times a day. His parents always vowed they’d never utter the words “Just because” or “That’s just how it is” but they’ve finally been broken and now consider Google a good friend. King Question has a knack of knowing exactly when to ask an awkward question, particularly in the public domain. Questions such as ‘Why is that man so big / in a wheelchair / wearing that / ugly’ can often leave his parents in a stuttering wreck whilst they attempt to respond most appropriate and politically correct way.

Move over Batman, the SuperKids are in town!

Do you have a SuperKid in your family?

Gem x

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Blogging, Family, Humour, Mom, Mommy, Mum, Mummy, Mummy Blogger, Mums, Parent, Parenting, Toddler, Toddlers, Uncategorized

I’ve Lost That Blogging Feeling

I’ve lost that bloggin’ feelin’
Whoa, that bloggin’ feelin’
I’ve lost that bloggin’ feelin’
Now it’s gone, gone, gone, whoah 

Bring back that bloggin’ feelin’
Whoa, that bloggin’ feelin’
Bring back that bloggin’ feelin’
‘Cause it’s gone, gone, gone
And I can’t go on, whoah 

Ok so I can’t go on is a bit dramatic, I can go on, I just kept that line in for effect, and partially because my rhyming skills are pretty dire (I’ll leave that to my very talented and hilarious partner in rhyme (and cake) Rhyming with Wine). But yes, I have lost that blogging feeling. In all honesty I’ve never really considered myself as a ‘proper’ blogger and here’s why.

It all started out when I made a bit of a ‘boob’ of myself, and after receiving a backlash from a number of trolls (no not the ones with bright electric shock hair and squeaky voices. Although to be fair that would probably have been quite entertaining) I decided to tell my side of the tale, so I wrote Nobody’s Perfect.

Angry Troll

I’d never really understood the concept of a blog until I came across the very talented and funny Unmumsy Mum Sarah Turner. If you haven’t heard of her 1. What rock have you been under? and 2. Stop reading this shite immediately and order all her books from Amazon. What a bloody wonderful woman she is, someone not afraid to tell it how it really is, no sugar coated bullshit, just the truth and reality of what is parenting and life. So when I made my very own parental boo boo I wanted to share it amongst like minded people in the same boat. That boat capsized as a result, not something I had at all expected. Whilst there were horrible comments made, many tears shed and the evidence was clear, I was pretty dumb (and remain to be at times), I still have a lot to thank for making the ‘boob’. It brought me back the creativity I’d lost since having my two boys.

I’ve always loved writing, drawing, painting etc. but since becoming a mum it had to go to the bottom of the ‘things to do’ list, I was too busy milking myself like a cow; stuffing raisins into my kids mouths whilst attempting to get a few things from Aldi; trying not to make chicken nugget / pizza / fish finger teas every night (and often failing); and all done whilst attempting to be the good wife (my husband might refute this as ever been the case) I used to be before kids, but in reality I resembled a worn out, legging wearing, make up lacking, grump frump, with a bit of added nagging for good measure. I’d lost the one thing that made me, well, me.

Blogging is my new creative outlet, yes not quite the canvas and acrylic creativeness I used to have in the past, but somewhere for me to use my brain (don’t snigger) and imagination. I still don’t to this day have a clue what a SEO or a MOZ is, and part of me thinks if I do then I’m not really doing my blog for the right reasons, purely to gain followers. The reason I blog is because it helps me relax and get back to being me, and if people do read it, then I want them to laugh and smile. Now I’m going to get all quotey on you, from one of my favourite films Jerry Maguire

Dicky Fox – “If this [points to heart] is empty, this [points to head] doesn’t matter”.

Dicky Fox – Jerry Maguire

Mr Fox you are correct, if your heart is not in something then your mind isn’t either. That’s how I feel with blogging, if someone comes to me to ask me to write a blog about a tube of toothpaste, then I’m sorry but how the fudge do you expect me to write a piece about a bit of minty tasting sodium fluoride? Don’t get me wrong I like toothpaste as much as the next person, and if we didn’t have it we’d all look like Jeremy Kyle show guests, but I don’t love it enough to sell my soul and write about how it changed my life and made me feel on top of the world. Now I have been a little contradictory in all of this as I was asked by a company to write a blog about something I actually do enjoy, let’s for the sake of this blog call it belaxing for a natress company (I won’t go into great detail as I don’t want it to come back on me, but I’m sure you can figure out my crypticness). So I wrote it because I like to ‘belax’, and managed to write more about that than going into great detail about a ‘natress’ I’ve never even seen. After talking to my good blogger friend Dawn it would appear I had been ‘had’, as I never received anything for the post, I did it out the kindness (aka stupidness) of my own heart. So I feel I have to be very weary of this thing that is blogging especially when people are asking for your time (which is quite limited of late) and effort. There’s generally always a catch. On the other hand if L’oreal wanted me to dye my hair give me a makeover so I could flick it around in an advert I would happily oblige and declare it has changed my life. Yes I am that fickle, and also going grey, so a girls got to do what a girls got to do.

The other reason I’m feeling a bit wobbly about the whole blogging thing is on the back of a blogging conference I attended last year. I’m generally a very sociable and outgoing type of person, and I had visions of getting to London and being Mrs Social of East Social, Socialfield, instead I was more like Sister Bernadette from Call the Midwife. I’m not sure what happened but I lost any kind of confidence that I’d previously had on the train as myself and my good friend Dawn journeyed to London from up North like a couple of excited teenagers off to see Justin Beiber. I can only put it down to feeling completely out of my depth and the fact I feel a bit of a fraud. I don’t really get much chance to read other blogs unless I get a spare five minutes when the kids are sat gormless mouths open wide at Cbeebies, and that’s usually interrupted by “What can I eat now?”, “More duuucceee“, then once I’ve found said food or juice I’ve completely forgotten what I had previously been doing. I found it hard to spark up conversation with people because it’s a bit embarrassing when you probably follow every social platform of theirs but wouldn’t know them from Adam. But then that’s probably the point of these events? Must try harder next time, sorry guys. Luckily I did recognise the lovely Detrice Matthews who is the owner of a wonderful and heartfelt blog about her journey through breast cancer and beyond. I love her posts as they are real, straight from the heart, no bull, all genuine, and it gives you that warm feeling which usually results in me giving the kids a big bear hug. For me that’s what it’s all about, keeping it real.

Another person I recognised and really wanted to get the chance to speak was to was Sarah Turner (The Unmumsy Mum). I often say if I was to meet an idol (sorry I know that sounds so cheesy) I’d play it cool and be myself. I could not have been more fangirl if I’d have tried. I was so bloody nervous, the person who made me feel normal, less of a failure as a mum, the reason I posted the picture in the first place, and the one who inspired me to start the blog was stood right there in front of me, not only that she gave me a welcoming hug. I’d like to say I remembered our conversation but I was a little bit taken back by the whole experience. Sarah asked me how things were which would have been the perfect chance to have said something comedic and normal(ish), but no instead I just said “Yeah, you know motherhood and stuff, it’s a bit crazy. Sorry about my boobs by the way. I won’t get them out or anything“. Cue the awkward silence. If you’re reading this Sarah, I can only apologise for my David Brent style outburst. It would seem I didn’t really play it cool at all, I full on fell through the bar like Del Boy.


With so many amazing bloggers out there such as Rhyming with Wine, Detrice Matthews, The Unmumsy Mum, Hurrah for Gin, Brummy Mummy of 2, Beta Mummy, Whinge Whinge Wine (I could go on forever), I find it hard to come up with new content, because why would I want to reiterate what someone else has already said in a much more entertaining and clever way than I ever could? I want to have that originality, and most importantly I need to enjoy it for me. If anyone else likes reading it, that’s a bonus and a bloody great one.

So whilst this is a bit of an affirmation for me (but more of a kick up the arse) I want other bloggers to remember what made them start blogging in the first place and why they love doing it. Don’t get caught up in how many followers you have, what rank you are on Tots 100, how many linkys you’ve joined, how many comments you’ve made etc. Do it for you, don’t let it stress you out, it shouldn’t feel like a chore, write because you want to, not because someone is telling you (unless it is your full time job, then as you are).

So I I’ve basically talked myself into sticking with it, and to try not lose that blogging feeling. I might only get one post out a month (if that), I probably won’t join up to any linkys, I may disappear from the social media world for a few days, and I will probably always be a blog link, but I’m good with that because I got that little bit of creative me back.

Gem x

Celebs, Christmas, Comedy, Film, Funny, Humour, Uncategorized

10 Reasons to be More Like Buddy the Elf

Buddy the Elf, what a guy! If the world had more Buddy’s in it, it would be a much better and entertaining place. So how can we be more like him?

1. He loves Christmas and all its magic

Buddy (being an elf and all) is all about Christmas, there’s no time more magical. A festive season when you can eat chocolate for breakfast every morning (or in Buddy’s case syrup laden spaghetti with a sprinkling of Smarties).

2. He has a great vocabulary

You can always rely on Buddy to come out with a brilliant word or phrase. Cotton headed ninny muggings is pretty hard to beat.

3. He gives a lot of compliments 

“I think you’re really beautiful and I feel really warm when I’m around you and my tongue swells up”


Everyone loves a compliment, and Buddy is never  short of one. It’s such a simple thing to do, and just like Debs it can make someone’s day. Go on give someone one today (a compliment you filthy minded people).

4. He’s a bit naive and innocent 

“You did it! Congratulations! ‘World’s Best Cup of Coffee.’ Great job, everybody. It’s great to meet you”

Whilst being completely naive and innocent isn’t always the best way to be, Buddy sees most things in a very positive and literal way. Something we could all do from time to time (unless your names Joey Essex then you already do).

5. He loves to sing (even if he is a bit off-key at times)

One lesson Buddy has taught us is that the best way to spread Christmas Cheer, is singing loud for all to hear. Go on get your sing on even if it takes a few Proseccos and sherries to get you going.

6. He’s not afraid of hard work

He might have only managed to build 85 Etch-A-Sketchers, but it’s 85 more than you or I could build. He’s a dab hand at making toys, even if he does wreck his fathers wooden desk in the process.

7. He’s easily impressed

“Have you seen these toilets? They’re GINORMOUS!”

Whilst the man in the Empire State buildings lift probably wasn’t impressed with having to stop at 102 floors, Buddy saw the beauty in the pretty lights. Every time you use a lift now, you’ll probably have the urge to do the same.

“It looks like a Christmas tree”

He also got excited about the fact he’d seen a dog.

“So, good news – I saw a dog today. Have you seen a dog?”

Sometimes we’re so busy looking at the bigger picture we miss the small things that really matter. We should probably be impressed with the simpler things just like Buddy.

8. He doesn’t take life too seriously

Whether it’s spinning around in a rotating door until you vom, or busting out your best dancing moves to Jump Around in a dingy post room, letting your hair down at times is just the right medicine. *Please Note* Drinking ‘syrup’ and dancing on tables during work hours may cause you to lose your job.

9. He has impeccable telephone answering skills


He answers the phone in a very clear and positive tone, taking interest in the caller, and all done with a smile.  Something a lot of customer services advisors could do with putting into practice.

10. He just loves to smile

There’s nothing more infectious and welcoming than a smile, and Buddy has got it down to a tea. Although remember there’s a fine line between looking generally friendly or a complete lunatic.

Buddy the Elf is the balls and no Christmas is complete without him.

Merry Christmas, and don’t forget…

Gem x

Celebs, Comedy, Disney, Fairytale, Film, Food, Funny, Humour, Smiling, The Little Mermaid, Uncategorized, Yorkshire

An Ode to Yorkshire – Nowt Like a Tea (Little Mermaid Style)

Yorkshire, a bloody wonderful place where people eat tea instead of dinner; say “Morning” “How do!”, and “Alright” to complete strangers; often use words like ‘fettle’, ‘mardy bum’ and ‘bugger lugs’; regularly say a rude four letter word beginning with c and ending with t when they’re actually saying ‘couldn’t (you know the one); a region so wonderful even France wanted a piece, which then laid the way to Tour de Yorkshire; a place called home to many a wonderful folk such as Dame Judi Dench, Sir Patrick Stewart, Jessica Ennis, Nicola Adams, Leigh Francis (proper bo I tell thee!), Brian Blessed, Dickie Bird, Mel B, David Hockney, Jarvis Cocker, Sir Ben Kingsley, Michael Palin, Jeremy Clarkson, Vic Reeves, Ernie Wise,  Corrine Bailey Rae, The Kaiser Chiefs, Def Leppard, the list is endless. Basically Yorkshire is the balls, or in Yorkshire terminology ‘the dogs danglies’.

So in true Colleyswobbles style another one of our favourite Disney classics has been re-adjusted for your entertainment. Imagine Ariel and Sebastian we’re from good old Yorkshire. Ariel is tempted to move down South, but proud Yorkshire lad Sebastian (let’s call him Bazza in that case) has some advice for her as follows;

(To be sang in the style of Under the Sea, YouTube it if you need a reminder)

Ariel down South, it’s a mess. Life in Yorkshire is better than owt they got down there.

Sean Bean is always keener
Suppin’ his tea with cake
You dream about going yonder
But that’s just a big mistake
Just look at the folk around you
Right here in God’s Country
Such wonderful things surround you
Nowt like it, it’s all for thee

Nowt like a tea
Or Wensleydale Cheese
Petal it’s better
Up where it’s wetter
Take it from me
Up on the Moor we stroll all day
Down South, they on tubes drinking latte
There’s no time for joking
We’re full time devoting
To suppin’ tea

The beer is always dearer
Pay thirty quid for steak
You dream about going down there
But that is a big mistake
Just look at the deals around you
Right here on your front door
Aye wonderful things surround you
What more are you looking for?

Nowt like a tea
Or Wensleydale Cheese
What is ricotta?
Wensleydale it’s not(ta)
And don’t give me Brie
Up on the Moor we stroll all day
Down South, they on tubes drinking latte
There’s no time for joking
We’re full time devoting
To suppin’ tea

Up here all the folk are ‘appy
As ‘appy as pigs in muck
With places like Fountains Abbey
Us chaps are just blessed with luck
With food like the Yorkshire Pudding
Piled onto an empty plate
A portion of Rhubarb crumble
No finer food can be ate

Nowt like a tea
Nowt like a tea
Nobody beats us
Try us and meet us
In Whitby Quay
In Yorkshire born was Captain Cook
Them Brontes wrote a reet good book
Nowt ‘ere’s worth fretting
No point regretting

Just ‘ave some tea (Just ‘ave some tea)
Nowt like a tea (Nowt like a tea)

Since life is sweet here
We doin’ reet here
Naturally (Naturally)
Even the straight folk and the gay
Drink beer in the pub on Friday
Go watch the cricket
Run down a snicket
For chippy tea

We folk are happy come what may
We got the spirit
You got to hear it
We bloody love tea!

In Hull it’s never dull
They’re friendly in Emley
Spend yer brass in Cas
They’re smiley in Filey
Eat Stilton in Bilton
Get shakey in Wakey
Do Otley dressed as broccoli (Yeah)

Nowt like a tea
Or Wensleydale Cheese
Petal it’s better
Up where it’s wetter
Take it from me
Up on the Moor we stroll all day
Down South, they on tubes drinking latte
There’s no time for joking
We’re full time devoting
To suppin’ tea

Nowt like a tea (Nowt like a tea)
Nowt like a tea (Nowt like a tea)
We got good cuisine
Our curries are mean
I’m sure you’ll agree
We got the lot, a lot of land
Yorkshire it’s bloody grand

We like our beer here
We’re full of cheer here
We love our tea

We like a flat cap here
We eat our snap here
We love our tea

Walk through the Dales here
Sup lots of Ales here

That’s why it’s better
Up where it’s wetter

Aye we in luck here
Up in the muck here
Drinking our Tea

So there you have it, and ode to the best place on earth, Yorkshire.


Gem x


The Daddy (Colleyswobbles) Tag

The wonderful Dawn of Rhyming with Wine tagged me in her post The Daddy Tag – “Daddy Pig” makes his blog debut quite a while ago (what can I say I’m a tad sloth like). The Daddy Tag was created by the very lovely Frenchie Mummy.

the Frenchie Mummy Blog

So without further ado I shall introduce you to my better(ish) half, Daddy Colleyswobbles.

As you can probably tell from the above, Daddy Colleyswobbles loves his sleep, in fact he can barely stay awake in a moving vehicle. Luckily I caught him whilst he was awake and here are his responses below.

Are you a Stay at Home Daddy or a Working Daddy?

I’m a working daddy but I feel I do my fare share at home

Would you have it any other way?

No I wouldn’t change it, well apart from maybe a lottery win

Do you co-change dirty nappies? Even the very smelly ones?

I often do the smelly ones, and I change the nappies too

A little fairy gives you the possibility of breastfeeding? Are you going for it or do you run away?

I wouldn’t go for it I like my sleep too much, and you ladies do such a great job so wouldn’t want to take away that privilege

What is the one must-have item for a daddy?

Baby wipes, even if I didn’t have kids I’d still carry them around because they’re so practical and useful

How many kids do you plan on having?

Two’s enough thanks

Lads’ nights? How often do you have them?

It feels like never but I’m told quite often by my good wife

Your children’s favourite achievement?

The moment they first said “Daddy” made me proud, now after the twentieth consecutive time it starts to wear a bit thin.

What is your best memory with your kids?

Camping when we were all together in the tent, and the boys were fast asleep in their little sleeping bags. I really enjoyed that trip. There wasn’t much arguing or falling out either which is always a bonus.

Name one thing you miss since being a daddy?

Proper date nights with my mates, just kidding, with my wife of course. Also, just been able to go see friends off the cuff etc.

Weight gain, before pregnancy, during, after and now? And we mean YOU DADDY, not the mummy!

I don’t think I’ve gained any weight, just a little bit rounder. My shapes probably just changed a bit around the belly.

Dream holiday with your kids?

Similar to what we’ve just had at Ibiza, all inclusive but the kids would go into the kids club for a couple of hours each day.

Dream holiday without your kids or even without the other half? (You’re allowed to dream)

It would have to be some kind of trekking holiday, something a bit adventurous. Something a bit Bear Grylls, without anyone just to disappear for a short time and see some sights. A bit of a bucket list job. I’d also love to go to America to see the Dallas Cowboys play.

How has your life changed since having kids?

I’m less fit, I’m more tired, I’m a bit more podgy, I’ve got less money, less free time, I’ve got less nice clothes, I get less ‘loving’, but when all is said and done, I’m happier.

Finish the sentence “It makes my heart melt when…”

The boys say, “I love you Daddy”, usually followed by “Can I have a biscuit / another story”.

Favourite beers brands and football team?

Although it’s not strictly beer, Stella Cidre. Primarni is the main brand I wear these days. Football is cack, it’s all about Rugby League. The only team I really support sport wise is the Dallas Cowboys (American Football).

Huggies or Pampers?

Neither, Aldi nappies are the dogs danglies.

Have you always wanted kids?

Yes most definitely

Best part of being a dad?

Mentoring my boys and watching them develop and grow day in day out.


So there you have it, he made the whole thing without even nodding off, impressive 🙂

If you want to take part in #TheDaddyTag , just pop across to Frenchie Mummy blog to find out more.

My three nominations are..




Please can you tag me on Twitter (@colleyswobbles) when your posts are on so I can have a good old mooch, don’t forget to tag @frenchiemummyas well.


Gem and Mr Colleyswobbles x

Babies, Baby, Children, Comedy, Daddy, Dads, Family, Funny, Home, Housekeeping, Housewife, Humour, Living with Kids, Mom, Mommy, Mum, Mummy, Mummy Blogger, Mums, Parent, Parenting, Toddler, Toddlers, Uncategorized

Tot Trumps

The title may have led you to believe this is about little people parps; well you can take a sigh of relief as this is not the case (in all honesty I’m not really convinced that would make a great read anyway).

So what do I mean by Tot Trumps? Well you may be familiar with Top Trumps, if not I shall let Wikipedia give you a quick brief;

“Top Trumps is a card game published in 1968. Each card contains a list of numerical data, and the aim of the game is to compare these values to try to trump and win an opponent’s card”Source, Wikipedia

Tot Trumps is exactly the same the only difference is that it relates to all things baby, toddlers, mums and dads.

Baby Vs Toddler Trumps


Speed of eating – Baby 60 / Toddler 20

Once babies have got the gist of the wonder that is food there’s no stopping them, they can’t ram the stuff in quick enough. Granted some of the food doesn’t actually go in their mouths, but they’re trying their best to try all of those new textures and flavours. In stark contrast a toddler, a now esteemed pro, well ish, at food can give a tortoise a run for their money at taking forever to eat their chuffing food. Never before have the words ‘Eat your food’ need to be repeated on such an epic scale, and usually on a morning when you’re rushing to get ready for work.

Poo produced – Baby 75 / Toddler 65

It’s a well known fact that babies and toddlers can produce a fair bit of poo. How such small individuals can produce a dump the abominable snowman would be proud of, I’ll never know. But babies definitely win this round hands down. Their actual amount of bum nuggets may be lesser than that of a toddler, but the impact and explosion factor more than make up for it. When you physically have to cut a baby grow off your tiny child because they’ve formed a blast which could put Hiroshima to shame, the poo to child size ratio definitely outweighs that of a toddlers. When you’ve changed nine nappies before you’ve even stepped out of the door, you know they’re in with a good chance of winning the ‘Shit Machine of the Year Award’.

Whinge level – Baby 30 / Toddler 85

Babies haven’t really mastered the art of whinge, they generally cry more than whinge, but once they hit toddler/threenager age the whinge level is turned to full pelt, and boy do we know about it. What does whinge sound like? Think of Janice from Friends laugh, then times it by 20 and repeat at least 30 times a day. Now that’s annoying, painfully annoying. “I don’t want to eat off that plaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttteeeeeeee, it’s pink, waaaaahhhhhhhhh”; “It’s raining!!Waaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”; “I don’t want a baaaaaaaaaaatttthhhhhh!”; “I don’t want to wear those shooooooeeeeeeessssss!”. If the government bottled enough whinge they could have a serious defence weapon on their hands, parents all around the country would be raking it in. In reality whinge has no effective use other than being seriously fudging annoying.

Questions asked – Baby 0 / Toddler 99

Once again toddlers win this hands down. When they’re not asking a question they are thinking about their next question. If they are unable to think of anymore (as rare as a lunar eclipse) they turn to the trusty filler phrase we all know too well – “Mummmmyyyyy?” / “Daddddddyyyy?” Once those words leave their mouths we know in t-minus 3 seconds there’s going to be a “Can I have a biscuit?”, “Why do cows moo?”, “Can a cat and a dog have babies together?”, “Why is grass green?. We feel the panic, the pressure not to give them a bullshit answer and definitely not the “Just because…” answer (although after the 100th, ok then 50th question of the day this is a completely acceptable response). Google has possibly made most of its earnings based on panicked parents around the world. This is further proven by the fact if you type ‘Why’ in the search box; the first question to come up is ‘Why is the sky blue?’ now that has quizzed and unsure parent written all over it.

Mummy Vs Daddy Trumps

Copy of Speed of eating 60Amount of poo produced 75Whinge level 30Questions asked 0.png

Time to self – Mummy 20 / Daddy 60

What is this time to self thing? It sounds delightful. Once children arrive on the scene time to oneself is, well…limited.  A once very private visit to the porcelain throne is now a social gathering where the kids continuously fetch their detached toy car wheels, dried up Playdoh and usually the loudest VTech toy they can muster for your viewing ‘pleasure’; A hot cup of tea once leisurely sipped whilst relaxing on the sofa watching back to back episodes of ‘Masterchef’ is soon replaced by lukewarm tea drunk in between changing nappies, picking up toys, and watching ‘I Can Cook’. Its official the ‘time to self’ moments for a mummy are not exactly relaxing. During the very the rare moment when the kids nap (after a well deserved fist pump) do mums relax? Nope they do jobs, think washing the car, cleaning the house, painting, jet washing the patio, making the tea, scraping crusty Weetabix off the floor/chair/table etc. It’s a fact that some of us actually go to work for a break, the chance to drink a hot cup of tea and to have a wee in private, ah bliss. So where does Daddy time to self come into this? Well perhaps I should have called this Trump ‘Time spent on the toilet’ (No pun intended). Somehow Daddy’s toilet time is sacred and long, oh so bloody long. Seriously who takes that long to take a dump? In reality I think probably 30% is pooping time and 70% is faffing on phone time, but who can blame them, we all have to have our little pleasures when we can manage to grab them. It’s a fact, daddies can hands down beat baby and toddler in the pooping stakes.

Showers taken – Mummy 40 / Daddy 70

One of the most frustrating things a mum can experience is when Daddy walks in after a day at work and declares “I’m just off for a shower”, all made worse by the fact that mummy has spent all day at home with the kids and has had zero opportunity to get a clean (making a third day Glastonbury reveller look pristine). Poor mum has been waiting all day for that special Timote moment, yet he waltzes in clearly not picking up on the fact flies are now circling her. All to be made worse by the fact he’s going to spend at least 45 long minutes ‘having a poo’ before his rather lengthy shower *Rolls eyes*

Gym membership usage – Mummy 25 / Daddy 75

Happy Days, Cheeky Monkeys, Rascals just a few names of ‘Gyms’ this mummy has stepped into recently. These gyms don’t harbour the weightlifter’s, protein shake drinkers, and the lycra clad toned crew you’d normally associate with the gym, no these contain tired looking parents watching on whilst their children run around and swing on various items like chimps. The closest thing to exercise is the parent squat, ‘sit down to a drink of tea, stand up to go save child dangling from the top of the climbing frame, sit down to have a sip of tea, stand up to stop child pushing another child on account of them having sharing issues, sit down to have a sip of tea, stand up to retrieve child from the top of the climbing frame due to sudden declaration of needing a wee/poo, sit down to drink cold tea’. The only thing that comes out lighter at the end of the session is a purse. The regular gym usage is probably the reason why daddy Wobbles looks like a model off the front cover of Men’s Health and the regular Play Gym usage (and cake eating) is more than likely the reason mummy Wobbles looks more like a  Teletubby on the front of CBeebies Magazine.

Fun Factor – Mummy 65 / Daddy 85

It’s pretty hard to be fun and enthusiastic when your kids have just emptied their entire box of Paw Patrol jigsaw pieces all over the floor for the third time followed by an epic chalking session on the wall. It can be bloody frustrating and stressful at times so we have to be forgiven for not always wanting to build a giant cushion tower and being jumped on whilst the ‘bad’ guys go “POW POW POW! “. When mums are fun we really bloody are, baking cakes, making dinosaurs out of loo rolls, jumping in puddles, painting, and if we’re feeling really crazy we even let the kids mix the Playdoh. So what gives Daddy the edge? Well for one they’re daft as brushes, but they’re also a bit more inclined to take risks, and let’s face it kids love a bit of danger. The first time I saw my husband fling our little boy up in the air I nearly had a pulmonary, but my little boy couldn’t get enough “More, more!” We could probably all learn something from each other, perhaps us mums should be a little more wild and try not turn into the Riskinator (The risk assessment robot), dads maybe you could just adopt a little bit of Riskinators pre risk and safety analysis?

So there you have it, your introduction to the world of Tot Trumps. The only good thing around these days with the word Trump in.

Gem (aka ColleysWobbles)

This post was originally featured on Meet Other Mum’s #mumtribe

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The Parent Crap

I love my husband dearly, he’s my rock, and all that lovey dovey blurb… but some nights I want nothing more than to roundhouse him to the floor! (Before you start, I don’t condone violence and I would never actually do it, but imagining it in the style of a Peter Griffin/Family Guy cut away clip makes it ok, right?).

Tonight is a prime example. The two children (I’d once lovingly lugged around like an overweight gorilla for 18 long months, propelled into the world in the most undignified and painful way from my noo noo, and sacrificed my once pert boobs to) have told me more than enough times this evening, “No Mummy I don’t want you I want Daddyyyyyyy!!!” accompanied with a scowl the grumpy cat would be proud of.

Granted, it’s not entirely Daddy’s fault he is awesome and very cuddly, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to get all Chuck Norris on his ass!

All I wanted was a cuddle, but instead I got a wriggling octopus with a one word Daddy Dictionary. Grrr!

So yes, I’ll put my hands up and admit it. I’m jealous! How does he do it? Am I doing something wrong? Am I too strict? Is it because I’ve gone back to work and they’re mad at me? Is it because they genuinely don’t love me as much? #mumguilt

In all honestly I don’t know why. I am however starting to realise that life as a family isn’t all Von Trap sing-alongs whilst parading through the meadows hand in hand, and I’d question anyone who said otherwise.

The faultless pictures you see on Instagram aren’t real. Mr and Mrs Perfect’s model family photo frolicking in a strawberry field was probably taken on their twenty second attempt on account of joyful Johnny shoving strawberries up his nose and sweet Susie flashing her knickers for the thirtieth time.

Before we had the boys I remember saying to people “We never argue, we get on so well, we’re best mates, blah blah blah“. Post kids, were still best mates, but argue? We do now. I’m not talking the dramatic Eastenders throwing plates at the wall “Ger art of ma pub!” type arguing, but we do have our disagreements and fall outs like most people. Why? Here’s a bit of parental maths:

cook-offAnother thing that adds to the ‘parent crap’ is the resentment. I never thought I’d resent their Daddy for going to work, but I remember thinking he was staying late at work to check out the hot toned girls who actually had time for the gym (unlike his baby bellied wife). I thought it was his way to avoid the crazy bedtime routine, but in actual reality he was working his backside off to pay bills and keep his job.

On the flip side he resented me for staying at home with his two little boys having all of that time to make memories whilst he was at work. A vicious cycle. The only way to avoid it crumbling is to tell yourself your both in it together. You’re a team. A family team.

So whether my little snot rockets are Daddy’s boys or Mummy’s boys it doesn’t matter, we’re a team, a unit, and they will have our undying love until the day we are no more.

(Seriously though kids, you best start giving me more cuddles or Daddy’s never going to get another cup of tea).

Gem x

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