Children, Comedy, Funny, Humour, Parenting

You Have to Laugh Tag

As a member of the SmileSquad I was tagged by the amazing folk at You Have to Laugh  into their new shiny #youhavetolaughtag. It’s all about being able to smile and have a laugh about the many trials and tribulations of parenting.

Here are my responses;

1) Fill in the gap: Before I had children I never …..

…imagined I would get asked so many questions or deal with as much poo before 7am.

2) What is the most annoying toy that your child owns or has owned and why?

Generally anything electronic bearing the words VTech. However, there is a particularly annoying cat shaped keyboard my son owns which makes me want to frantically rip my ears off.

3) Would you rather be covered in poo or covered in puke?

My logic tells me that if I were to be covered in poo then it would probably result in me also being covered in my own sick, whereas if I was covered in sick then I’d only be topping that up with further sick rather than a mix of both. It’s a lose lose situation quite frankly.

4) Is Peppa Pig more annoying than Postman Pat is bad at his job? Discuss.

I have a bit of a confession, I really like Peppa Pig, for one she keeps my son incredibly entertained and most importantly occupied. I also quite like the fact my son has a giant fairy Peppa Pig soft toy which drives his dad nuts “It’s pink and it’s got a bloody wand!” Shove your Transformers up your jaxy daddy this boy is in touch with his feminine side. Postman Pat on the other hand does irritate me, he’s fairly shoddy at his job and spends more time getting stuck in trees than actually delivering post.

5) What time constitutes a lie-in in your house now and how does this compare to your pre-child days?

7:00 – 7:30am is generally when the small people make their presence known. Usually by bouncing on us in bed or announcing loudly “It’s morning time” or “I need a wee”. If it’s a weekend we have been known to utilise the power that is Peppa Pig on the iPad for an extra half an hour or so.

6) What is your favourite swear word or swear word combo and when was the last time you used it?

I’m a bit like the Will Smith (without the rapping, acting or being a bloke) of blogging, I go easy on the swears, but if the occasion calls for it and it enhances the context then I may have a moment of potty mouth. Cockwomble. There we go.

7) Tell us your worst ever nappy or potty training experience.

Every nappy or potty training experience is the worst but the moment that will always be engraved on my mind is when both my sons (at the time 2 and new-born) both had well, shall we say particularly loose bottoms. I’ve never seen or had to ‘deal’ with quite as much brown stuff in my life. To make matters worse I decided to take them both out in the double buggy for some fresh air.  That would have been completely fine had I not forgotten the wipes and only realised this when I was too far from home…. ARGHHH! Cue one exploding toddler stood in the middle of a park with no toilets in sight. I had to use another nappy to clear up the mess whilst his brother screamed on the account of a separate explosion. It was stressful to say the least and there was a lot of washing put in the machine and wine consumed that night.

8) There is no electricity and won’t be for the next week. NONE. After eating the contents of the freezer (assuming you have a gas cooker) what the hell do you do with yourself?

If the electricity issue was only at my house then I would go to the gym / local pool a lot, not just for fitness but to utilise their warm showers. If the electricity issue was worldwide, I’d track down Bear Grylls and basically do what he tells me to.

9) If you didn’t need the money and didn’t have a little one what would you spend your days doing?

I would travel the world, drive a Mustang, eat/drink too much, dance a lot and relax. As much as I moan about the whinging constant questioning and lack of time for myself, I wouldn’t swap my life. I intend to do it all when I retire and the kids have flown the nest *sob* anyway.

10) If squirrels ruled the world, what do you think would be the advantages and disadvantages?

That’s just nuts!

Advantages:

  1. President Squirrel would have more brains and personality than the current president
  2. There’d be a lot of hidden things to find which would be quite fun, it’d be like an ongoing episode of Funhouse
  3. You could bribe them with nuts
  4. Who wouldn’t want to see a squirrel in a suit?

Disadvantages:

  1. You’d never be able to find your keys or most things for that matter
  2. Dentist bills would increase, have you seen their teeth?
  3. They’d ban words such as squirrelling as they would be derogatory terms
  4. Scrat would have a lot more competition for his nuts

11) If you could have anyone round for dinner, alive or dead, which 3 people would you choose? (NB – If you pick a dead person they would be alive during dinner – you wouldn’t just be dining with a corpse. That would be creepy)

Tom Hanks, Will Ferrell, and Will Smith. Amazing actors and all round lovely chaps. It would be a night of laughter, plenty of dancing to ‘Jump on It’, and lots of interesting tales to be told.

12) What is your favourite funny blog post ever (your own, or someone else’s)?

My favourite blog post ever has to be My Womb is a Squash and a Squeeze by Rhyming with Wine, it’s a parody of the well-known story A Squash and a Squeeze. What can I say about the amazing Dawn? She and her blog are absolutely bloody wonderful. She is the Julia Donaldson of the blogging world. Her posts are so cleverly put together and very relatable. Dawn is a real talent and most definitely someone to look out for. Clever, witty and hilarious, if you haven’t read her posts already then get over to her site (www.rhymingwithwine.com) right now and you’ll know what I mean. Did I mention we wrote a children’s book? Keep your eyes open for that one.

Lastly and purely to plug my own Blog I would say my best (and most recent) post is SuperKids which I also drew the illustrations for. I hope you like it.

So, there you have it, I hope you laughed.

Time for you to carry the baton;

Squidge and Boo

Educating Roversi

Grumblings of a SAHM

  • Copy and paste the twelve questions below into your own blog, or if you don’t have a blog, just do it on Facebook. Or the back of your bus ticket.
  • Answer them.
  • At the end of your post, tag at least 3 bloggers/friends who you’d like to fill out the #YouHaveToLaugh tag and let them know!
  • Add two of your very own questions and remove two that you don’t like as much from the original list – it’s all about evolution.
  • Use the badge code at the bottom of this post in your own post so that people can click to see this page and these rules!
  • Let us know when your post is up by tagging us on Twitter with #youhavetolaughtag at @youhave2laugh and we will retweet it. We’ll also link to it below in this very post so your answers could be seen by everyone else in the world who completes the tag! We could be talking literally  tens of people!

The questions:

  • 1) Fill in the gap: Before I had children I never …..
  • 2) What is the most annoying toy that your child owns or has owned and why?
  • 3) Would you rather be covered in poo or covered in puke?
  • 4) Is Peppa Pig more annoying than Postman Pat is bad at his job? Discuss.
  • 5) What’s the funniest question your child has asked you?
  • 6) What is your favourite swear word or swear word combo and when was the last time you used it?
  • 7) Tell us your worst ever nappy or potty training experience.
  • 8) What is the funniest thing that has happened to you as a parent?
  • 9) If you didn’t need the money and didn’t have a little one what would you spend your days doing?
  • 10) If squirrels ruled the world, what do you think would be the advantages and disadvantages?
  • 11) If you could have anyone round for dinner, alive or dead, which 3 people would you choose? (NB – If you pick a dead person they would be alive during dinner – you wouldn’t just be dining with a corpse. That would be creepy)
  • 12) What is your favourite funny blog post ever (your own, or someone else’s)?


 

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-60amount-of-poo-produced-75whinge-level-30questions-asked-0

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

I’m very proud to be part of the Meet Other Mums #blogsquad you can find my original blog on their fantastic webpage http://meetothermums.com

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Champagne Super No Way


We’ve had this very posh plonk for nearly a year so it seemed wrong not to drink it on a night away from parental duties. 
Will it be drunk on a yacht whilst bikini clad babes and six pack toned hunks parade their assets whilst listening to the latest funky house beats from a French DJ spotting a man bun and ray bans? 

No, it will be drunk lukewarm from plastic wine glasses in a standard double hotel room (bought through Groupon of course, we’re not made of money you know) whilst watching the Chase and Pointless. Why I hear you ask? Because that’s how we roll, it’s time to wind down, and quite honestly we’ve forgotten what it’s like not to be asked for cheese and juice every two minutes.

Gone are the days of bikini clad yacht posing (although if I’m honest I’ve never done it, the closest I ever got was having a cup of tea on the ferry to Bruges). This is reality, and I’m good with that. 

Cheers everyone! 

Gem x

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Mission Kidpossible: 10 Reasons Why Toddlers Would Make Great Secret Agents

Secret Agents might not all have the same ability as Ethan Hunt climbing an 828m tall building, or the je ne sais quoi of Mr Bond emerging from the sea in ridiculously tiny trunks (I may have re-wound that moment back a few times to check where the beach was, obviously), but we all know they’re out there somewhere doing super top secret stuff to ensure the safety of the nation and to prevent the likes of evil chair wielding cat strokers.

Usually Secret Agents are 21 and over, but what if the information and intelligence gathering duties were passed over to the likes of toddlers? “What?” I hear you cry, well read on and you shall discover why toddlers would make great secret agents.

1. Anyone who owns a toddler in this current day and age will know that they seem to be born with built in technology and swipe intelligence. Whether it’s a phone, a tablet, a tracking device, a radio transmitter, or a Single Digit Sonic Agitator, the kids are all over it.

2. They have supersonic hearing especially when the word chocolate, sweet or anything remotely unworthy of little ears is uttered.

3. Toddlers have the ability to fit and hide into the tightest of spaces. They are best at doing this in busy social situations, any clothes packed sale rails, signs, and doors are a preferred choice of camouflage.

 4. “Awww look at her, look at her wittle chubby chops, she’s soooo cute” BOOOOOOOM! You picked the wrong toddler to get all cutesy with. Cute kids, what a way to lull the enemy into a false sense of security.

5. Deadly poo and farts with the incredible ability to empty a room in t-minus two seconds. How a small person can make a stench a farty pig would be proud of is beyond belief. 

6. Nocturnal ability. Night or day, who cares when you’re a toddler, if you want to have a tantrum about a toy helicopter at 4am in the morning then who cares because you’re a toddler and time means sh*t. Night missions, no problem.

7. 20/20 eyesight. The unbelievable ability to spot a toy/sweet/chocolate/train/aeroplane/parent eating chocolate (delete as necessary) from miles away. 

8. Fluent in a number of languages, primarily English with a smattering of gobbledygook.

9. Courage, I’m not talking the Lion from The Wizard of Oz courage, I’m talking the no fear when jumping off the top of a table/chair/climbing frame/stairs/bed (the list is endless) kind of courage. This also relates to the courage of not giving an actual damn, for example asking a lady why she’s sat in a wheelchair and why that man’s so fat (cringe).

10. And finally the constant questioning, oh god the constant questioning *grabs wine and takes a glug*. If there’s one thing toddlers are sh*t hot at, it’s asking questions…all of the time.

Imagine the scene

In a room a suspected drug lord is sat across from a intrigued toddler.


Toddler: “What’s a drug lord?“, “What’s a drug lord?“, “What’s a drug lord?“, “What’s a…

Suspected drug lord: “Somebody please stop this kid!

Toddler: “Are you a drug lord?“, “Are you a drug lord?“, “Are you a drug lord?

*The suspected drug lord shakes and wipes the sweat from his brow* 

Toddler: “Are you a drug lord?“, “Are you a drug lord?“, “Are you a drug lord?“, “Are you a drug lord?

Suspected Drug Lord: “YESSSS, someone shut this kid up, I confess, YESSSSS I’m a drug lord!

The struggle is real, being an over questioned parent, not a drug lord obviously.

So there you have it, toddlers would make pretty valuable additions to the secret service no doubt about it. Although you’re not having mine MI5, I’ll put up with the questioning, chocolate/sweets radar, and atomic farts for a little while longer, you can have Mr Bond back.

Gem x

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Beauty in to Beast

Like many little girls, Belle was always the Disney princess I aspired to be. Beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, and kind. Let’s not forget that amazing dress and the fact she got her Prince Charming in the end (Well after a miraculous shave and a crash diet).

So did I turn out to be the beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful and kind Belle? In a word… no, although I’d like to think I’ve mastered the thoughtful and kind element. The other two aspects are very much debatable.

I didn’t get the big swishy dress, but one thing I did manage to do was bag my very own Beast Prince Charming, and I’m happy to report he has much less fur and less bitey teeth. He’s pretty crap at timekeeping and I’m relatively sure he has a mild to medium form of narcolepsy, but all of that aside he’s definitely a keeper.

Life is good, but bloody hell it’s hard and certainly not the fairytale I dreamt of as a young girl. That said I can’t help but wonder what Belle would have been like after she had been married to the Beast for five years with two little mini Beasts in tow.

img_0538
Disposing of poopy nappies was not the fairytale Disney princess life Belle expected
So in true Disney style below is my interpretation (with a bit of a Yorkshire twang) of Belle’s song with a more realistic angle. Feel free to sing along.

Belle:

Little house, in a quiet village

Every day like the one before

Little house full of whingey people

Waking up to say…

Little Beasts:

Mummy

Daddy

Mummy

Daddy

Mummy

Belle:

There goes the toddler waking up, like always

The same old whines and moans to yell

Every morning just the same

At 6am mini beasts came

To see a poor tired parents frown

Beast:

Good morning Belle

Belle:

Good morning Daddy, er I mean Beast

Beast:

Where are you off to?

Belle:

Aldi, I need to pick up some strong coffee, nappies, wipes, milk and bread.

Beast:

That’s nice. Can you get me some sandwich meats for lunch? LITTLE BEAST!! Stop poking me in the head

Townsfolk:

Look, there she goes

The lass is strange, no question

Dazed and distracted, can’t you tell?

Man:

Never part of any crowd

Woman:

Cause her head’s up on some cloud

No denying she’s a mummy now, that Belle

Man 1:

Ey up!

Woman 1:

Good day!

Man 1:

How is your family?

Woman 2:

Ey up!

Man 2:

Good day

Woman 2:

How is your wife?

Woman 3:

I need….a Greggs

Man 3:

That’s too expensive! *What Greggs?!

Belle:

There must be more than this abysmal* life!

*Ok so abysmal is a tad extreme but I was struggling to find something to rhyme

Man at the Library:

Ah, Belle

Belle:

Good morning. I’ve come to return the kids book I borrowed

Man at the Library:

Finished already?

Belle:

Yes I’ve read it to them at least a hundred times and they still aren’t bored yet. Please tell me you’ve got something else?

Man at the Library:

Not since yesterday

Belle:

That’s alright. Ok then we’ll borrow this one (After an argument with toddler over said book as it’s not the right colour or size)

Man at the Library:

That one? But you’ve read it twice!

Belle:

What Charlie Cooks Favourite Book? Yes it’s my favourite, I like doing all the voices; my pirate and knight are especially impressive.

Man at the Library:

Well if you like it all that much, it’s yours

Belle:

Really? What actually free? What’s the catch? I mean do you need my email address or something so you can constantly spam me?

Man at the Library:

No catch, I insist!

Belle:

Nice one, ta very muchly!

Townsfolk:

Look, there she goes, that lass is super human

I wonder if she’s feeling well

Men:

She seems a little snappy

Women:

Because her nose is in a nappy

Townsfolk:

She needs to be an octopus that Belle

Belle:

Ewwww…isn’t this disgusting?

It’s my least best part of being mummy

Here’s where I see the bogies

Crusting on my newly washed leggings

On both my knees!

Woman:

Now it’s a wonder why her name means “beauty”

Her looks are fuelled on Zinfandel

Shopkeeper:

But behind that zombie plod

I’m afraid she feels a fraud

Very distant from the rest of us

Group of mums:

She’s struggling like the rest of us

Yes, normal like the rest of us is Belle

The next part is traditionally sung by Gaston and Lefou, but for the purposes of this it shall be sang by the beast and Trevor (yes I totally made that up) his best friend. 

Trevor:

Wow you look knackered Beast. Are you tired?

Beast:

I know, yes I’m exhausted. I’m always working, the kids are non-stop and Belle does not stop nagging at me

Trevor:

Oh dear, it doesn’t sound like the fairytale it used to be

Beast:

I know I still really love her but she just seems to have lost her mojo

Trevor:

Does she not still have that flouncy gold dress?

Beast:

No she mostly lives in snot and food stained clothes and never wears matching bra and knickers.

Trevor:

But she was…

Beast:

The most beautiful girl in town? She was but now she has more hair on her legs than I ever did

Trevor:

That bad huh?

Beast:

Yes well since she had the kids I’ve been put to the bottom of the pile

Trevor:

Go on then tell me about it

Beast:

Right from the moment when the kids were born

The trouser kisses were just shelved

Although I must agree

She makes a nice hot tea

So I need to re-woo and de-hairy Belle

Group of mums:

Look Beast it’s hard to be a mummy

Hey Beast it’s hard to be a wife

Give her a chance, she feels like screaming

It’s not the perfect mummy kind of life!

Man 1:

Ey up

Beast:

My bad!

Man 2:

Good day

Man 3:

By heck!

Matron:

She’s shoving cake in

Woman 1:

You need some wipes!

Man 4:

Some nappies…

Woman 2:

…Two packs!

Man 4:

…Four pound..

Woman 1:

It’s real life

Beast:

There’s too much poo!!

Woman 2:

My head…

Man 5:

Those kids…..

Woman 2:

They’re cute

Man 5:

…They smell of hamsters

Belle:

There must be more than this abysmal* life!

*Once again, a bit harsh, and purely for rhyming slackness

Beast:

I’m so proud to call lovely Belle my wife! (Even if she does look a bit of a bugger and nags a lot)

Belle:

Life as a mum can be a little stressful

Often a challenge not to yell

I used to be quite slim

Pass the tonic and the gin

It’s super being a mummy

Bar the wobbly wibbly tummy

Yes I do love being a mummy…..it’s just swell! (Well most of the time)

And they all lived happishley ever after.

The End
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10 Things I Hate* About Two

*Hate’s a very strong word, I much prefer ‘dislike’ or ‘don’t really enjoy’, but let’s face it they wouldn’t have the same ring would they?

This is in no way related to Heath Ledger or Julia Stiles, no this is my honest take on why having two children can be, well shall we say – challenging. I often look back to when I had the one and there’s no doubt about it, it was hard, bloody hard, but if I really think about it I had so much more opportunity to nap and watch This Morning than I do now. Oh how I miss you Phil and Holly.

So here are the 10 things I ‘don’t really enjoy’ about having two little people.

1. It’s about as rare as an eclipse when both children have a nap at the same time. The only way it’s possible (or at least in my experience) is to drive around in the car playing Classic FM like a 95 year old lady called Doris on her way to the local garden centre. Believe me it works.

The difficulty then is managing to get them both successfully out of the car and transferred into their beds. It almost always ends with one of them waking up, so the feet up – cup of coffee in hand – Come Dine with Me afternoon session I had ambitiously planned is swiftly cancelled. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love playing and chasing around after my boys but just 30 mins peace without having to answer one hundred and one questions would be lovely. In reality what do I do when the ‘rare eclipse’ strikes? I clean and tidy.

2. Multi-tasking like you’ve never multi-tasked before. It’s a skill we have to adopt because we have no other choice. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been in a situation where one hand is wiping a poopy bum and the other’s preventing the toddler from doing his best impression of Eddie the Eagle. Parents have to have reflexes like a cat. I’ve never felt more like a ninja in my life. 3. My toddler hasn’t quite grasped the fact his younger brother isn’t a toy. There have been a few occasions where I’ve caught him riding his brother like a sad donkey on the beach. The words ‘gentle‘, ‘careful‘ or the phrase ‘get off your brother‘ have never been used as much.  4. Two lots of I nappies (granted not all of you will have this issue, some of you sensibly waited). I remember one particular morning changing six nappies after only been up for an hour. How is it possible for such small people to produce so much poo? Nowadays my toddler is toilet trained so this thankfully is no longer an issue. Just the one set of nappies to deal with, phew!

However, this has now brought around a new ‘challenge’. My son always chooses incredibly inconvenient times to do a ‘poo dance’ and announce loudly for all to hear “I need a poo!” mainly when I’ve either got his baby brother fast asleep in my arms (after a long time of him fighting sleep), or when we’re out and we’ve just conveniently sat down with lunch, only to have to awkwardly abandon it and single handedly juggle belongings, a baby, and a wincing toddler to a tiny loo. Let’s face it the poo was never going to be a good thing was it? 5. One of the hardest challenges for a parent is to get through the day without getting some form of food or bodily function smeared on their clothing. As the ‘owner’ of two boys, this tends to involve a lot snot, where the chuff does it all come from? If snot could be mined they could make a base at our house, and I would be one rich lady.

With two boys in tow I have double the smearage occurrence and quadruple the amount of household washing to deal with. I love spending my days filling the washer and drier (said no mum ever!). Although it has to be said I’ve become more accustomed (doesn’t have any other option so has just accepted) having that extra accessory of banana smear, or snot splatter. Who knows it could catch on. I’ll wait for your call Vivienne. 6. The noise, oh god the noise. The decibel level has certainly escalated since we first moved into our new house. At that time we had a relatively quite one and a half year old and I was seven months pregnant (yes I know we didn’t mess about, and yes moving when heavily pregnant was not the most exhilarating moment of my life, it was flaming stressful). So I imagine our neighbour thought we were a nice quiet little family to live next door to. Wrong!

The first noise worthy experience he had to endure was listening to me whining and mooing like a cow at 4am as the contractions were kicking in – one hospital trip later and BOOM! Welcome to Noisetown.

My youngest was a pretty chilled baby and sound sleeper, however the standard loud hungry baby cries he did at all hours of the night/morning weren’t the most enjoyable. If the mother and father of the child struggle to cope with the noise then I can’t imagine the neighbour was loving it much either.

Next on the noise counter was my fast growing toddler who mastered the fine (but not very likeable) art of winging. Again if even the mother of the child can’t appreciate their own flesh and bloods constant “I don’t wannnntttt thaaaaaattttt!“, “I wannnntttt thaaaaaattttt!“, “Noooooooooooooo“, “Whaaaaaaaaaaaa!“, then my poor bugger of a neighbour certainly isn’t going to either. To compliment the winging there’s also the occasional (OK then, daily) case of ‘parent losing their shit’ noise.

But those still aren’t the worst of the noises he has to endure. No, the worse noise can usually be heard around 7:20pm – 7:30pm, and comes from the mouth of the lesser spotted singing mum, also known as me attempting to sing Feed the Birds to the boys. (Less Mary Poppins more Makeit Stoppins). So I’m sorry neighbour, I’d love to tell you it’s going to quieten down, but the reality is soon there will be two wingers once my little one enters the twonager/threenager zone. I’ve heard Boots sell some pretty good earplugs, you may want to invest.

7. Both of my son’s have an obsession with hiding things. If I could compare them to an animal they would be squirrels. Squirrels hide nuts, well my children hide just about anything they can get their hands on. On occasion the selected object in question has rather inconveniently been my keys, and always on a day when I’m in a rush to get out of the house. When my eldest was about twenty months old I caught him looking rather sheepish whilst standing near my relatively expensive speakers. Having remembered music was starting to sound a bit tinny, I put two and two together and decided to get my Mrs Marple head on. After shining a torch in the back of the speaker I discovered a plethora of items, I’m talking pens, golf balls, small knick knacks, toys, cars, a stylus, you name it, it was in there. After a lot of vigorous shaking and probing with some BBQ tongs the little hoarders stash had been retrieved. The speakers have never fully recovered, but they’re now out of reach from the ‘little squirrels’.

My ‘little squirrels’ secret hiding place

 

The plethora of stashed items found in the speaker

 

8. I am a nag nag. A double nag. One of my most used words is “No”, along with the phrases, “Please don’t do that”, “Get off that”, “Can you stop doing that please?”. This is one of the parts of motherhood I really don’t enjoy, in fact I’d go as far to say I actually hate it. I really didn’t want to be a naggy mum but when one of your children is constantly pressing the sky record button (we have a lot of random Part Rec programmes in our planner), whilst the other decides it’s a good idea to smudge his bananarey hands all over the sofa, then Mrs Naggy McNaggyson from Nagthorpe has to make an appearance.  In the past I’ve read a few articles about alternative ways to say no, but when your kid’s about to jump off the top of the slide head first “Please could you refrain from jumping off the top of the slide darling” just doesn’t cut the mustard, because ultimately the kids probably already committed to it, then cue a mammoth wait in A&E and a potential mark on the social services risk register. However nagging does have it’s uses, let’s face it if there was no such thing as nagging then there would be a lot of unpaid bills, and half done jobs (not a dig to you hubby obviously😂).

9. You have to choose. I don’t mean as to which child is your favourite (that varies on behaviour obviously), I mean there are situations where you have to balance out their needs and make an on the spot decision. I’d liken it to a game of Top Trumps. For this example I shall rename it ‘Tot Trumps’. ‘Toddler doing poo dance’ vs ‘Baby touching TV remote’. Now let’s see the stats:

Toddler Doing Poo Dance

  • Risk Factor: 95
  • Danger Level: 95
  • Speed: 70
  • Whinge Volume: 85

Baby Touching TV Remote

  • Risk Factor: 60
  • Danger Level: 20
  • Speed: 80
  • Whinge Volume: 65

The toddlers needs win on this occasion. Deleting an unwanted programme on the Sky planner not a problem, having to scrape poo off the living room floor? I’ll pass thanks.  10. When we just had the one baby waking up in the night, the hubby and I were a little more inclined to leave him for a bit to ‘cry it out’, or at least do that thing most couples do and have a ‘stand off’ (or should that be ‘lay off’) and wait for the other to make the move. Nowadays as soon as a hint of a decent cry emerges we’re quicker than Mo Farah after eating a bowl full of Quorn to react and ensure their cries don’t wake the other. After all what’s worse than a child waking up at 2am the night before you’re up early for work? Two children awake at 2am the night before you’re up early for work. So there you have it, those are my 10 Things I ‘Hate’ About Two, but it’s not all Tot Trumps, squirrels and noise. The tight Yorkshire lass in me is incredibly happy that we saved a flipping fortune on clothes and toys etc. Even though I know the pain of a second child all too well (having to endure the bobbly unfashionable hand me downs, getting the second hand bike, etc.) I’m now the sensible(ish) parent trying to be careful with money, so I’m pleased the clothes we bought and gratefully received for my first born have been used again and they’ve both got their wear out of them.

Ultimately the best thing about having two children is that my son has now got a buddy to share his childhood with. He has a friend, a best mate, a Robin to his Batman, an Ant to his Dec, and vice versa. Watching them play together is a wonderful thing, it makes me go all mushy (when they’re not having the “I was playing with that”, “Mummy, he took it off me” sharing issues).

We’ve made two beautiful boys and we couldn’t be prouder, even though our house permanently smells like farts.

Love you boys X

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