The 10 Commandments Of Being Mum

Thou Shall Flush Sh*ts That Are Not Your Own
Every morning before the dreaded school run I do a a quick 'poo check'. I go to both of the loos in the house and flush away a turd from what ever grim person in the house left it there. I'm not gonna lie. Sometimes I think it is my husband.

Thou Shall Carry Sh*t That Is Not Your Own
Whilst I don't have babies anymore so am not expected to lug around bottles and nappies. My pockets are now filled with all sorts of crap. Conkers, half eaten apples, crisp wrappers, snotty tissues. And don't get me started on when little buggers that say "OF COURSE I WILL NOT MAKE YOU CARRY MY SCOOTER HOME! I'M A BIG BOY". We've all fallen for that trick.

Thou Shall Be Expected To Remember EVERYTHING
Homework projects, lunch money, fancy dress for 'Roman Toga Day', street dance fees, dentist appointments, presents for kids you don't know, food to keep small humans alive. Your brain is full to the brim of so much crap there is only a really small part left. Which is reserved watching TOWIE and sending the odd angry emoji to your husband about flushing the toilet.

The Eternal Struggle Of Trying To Juggle

This week I nearly lost it. OK this week I did lose it. And I did that thing where I rant at my husband who looks truly bemused about what on earth is going on. Why is his wife doing the sobby shouty thing he hates so much when all he did was walk into the bedroom with some washing to put away. This week I truly feel that the juggle is real. It appears that the pressures of parenting, rather than alleviating with them getting older, they are getting stronger. There are no books to guide you on the many and varied tasks you are expected to do that fall under 'mum-min'.

This week has included three after school activities, the preparation for trips, harvest festivals, toast money, lunch money, sandwiches for packed lunches on the days she doesn't have lunch money, organising play dates, two days off for a poorly boy, ordering school photos, buying appropriate gifts for a seven year old. My diary is full of endless confusing notes that say things like 'WELLIES' or 'SILLY HAT'. And this is before I have even thought about cleaning my house, working and feeding the humans I love to keep them alive.

I Will Always Love You (Even When You Hate Me A Little Bit)

To my beautiful girl

This week has been a bit of a tough one. There's been upsets and disagreements. There's been appointments and crying. There have been moments that despite me trying to do my very best for you. You seem to have decided that you don't like me that much. And it's broken me a little bit. I'm hoping you will read these letters when you are older. When you have children of your own. Or perhaps when you are in your teenage years and you declare me to be a "bit of a knob head". 

So I am categorically stating here. In black and white. Even when you hate me or think I am being the biggest of knob heads. I my love. Will ALWAYS love you. Which probably is a bit annoying isn't it? When the chips are down and you want someone to shout at. That someone has become me. When you're doing something that perhaps isn't a great decision and someone needs to point it out. That someone has also become me. I'm your sounding board. I'm your bad cop.

11 Reasons Mums Look FIT AF In The Autumn!

Oh autumn you amazing thing of beauty. You are the one season in the year when us Mum's come into our own. When we feel slightly more human. In fact sometimes it can be said we even look "a bit fit". Summer? Is hot and clammy. We can never tell if it's going to be a bit cold so we sweat under our boobs in our Mum coats, forget to shave our legs and end up in maxi skirts and leggings all the time. Winter we worry about snow, forgetting mittens and slipping arse over tit in floral Matalan wellies. Spring is spent with our hood up moaning about the rain whilst we wait for summer. Which we have forgotten we hate.

But autumn? Is our season. Because in autumn our Mum's uniform can be passed off as an actual choice. That we went into a shop and decided to look a certain way rather than just shoving the nearest thing onto us as we run out of the door. So behold the 'looks' us Mums rock in Autumn. And for once? Feel part of the in crowd. Instagram says we are bang on trend. And who are we to argue?

Thick. Black. Tights
I favour my tights to be black as the nights sky and coming right up to my tits. Ideally under my armpits. Don't tell anyone but I wore my maternity tights till my son was three. And only then stopped as the gusset went. Tights hold in bellies. Tights smooth out hairy legs. Tights? Were created by God for us to enjoy.

I would actually like these tights to be a bit higher

When You're 'That Family'

Today we went to Chessington World of Adventures. They have a lovely little area where you buy tiny tubs of nectar for £2 each. Then you walk through and feed the birds. A bit like Mary Poppins. I looked in and saw all these families happily posing for photos with teeny tiny birds gracing their arms. They were smiling. It looked perfect. I imagined the instagrams I was going to take of my two beautiful babies covered in wild birds. We entered in. Camera at the ready, and my phone in my other hand so I could take an amazing Boomerang...then the sh*t hit the fan and the following occurred.

Five birds flew at my seven year old. Who screamed like an eagle was about to rip her face off. Not only did she scream but she started jumping around. "HELP ME! GET THEM OFF! HEEELLLP ME!". But she couldn't drop the nectar through fear. So I grabbed it out of her hand and gave it to my husband who looked equally terrified. My son then also felt the fear and as a bird landed on his nectar he threw the tub across the floor also screaming. Everyone was screaming. OK not everyone. All the other families looked elegant and gobsmacked. Whilst I forced my husband to have a photo as he said through gritted teeth "it just f*cking bit me". We were 'that family'.