F*@! Me it’s hot.

Heat wave

As I have already discussed rather heavily with anyone who will listen to me babies/toddlers ruin everything (at times) and whilst they are adorable (also at times) they are a force to be reckoned with.
This heat has been an ongoing battle that has made bed times harder and those lovely cuddles a damn sight stickier and whilst I would have normally taken this opportunity to shave my legs and embrace the chub rub I’ve been avoiding the outside through fear of melting and sun stroke.
We have furthermore discovered that George is (just as his father) allergic to the summer and fighting a losing battle with hay fever so when I think of heat wave I’m automatically drawn to the fear of puffy eyes, melting, uncomfortable sleep for the adults and children alike, wrestling with the factor 50 and a giant brown hound unable to deal with these temperatures. In short this year is not the year for us to enjoy the sun and realising this is like having someone crush your spirits. I can only liken the act of covering a toddler in sun tan lotion with wrestling a crocodile just with less teeth and a less deadly bite.
I love the sun and I know I sound like a moany old cowbag I have a clingy son who requires a lot of carrying and cuddling which could not have come at a worse time.
Have you ever tried to keep a hat on a one year old, granted it’s getting easier but blimey it a nightmare. Have you ever had to convince a eight year old that if they don’t keep apply the lotion they will burn? “But mummy I haven’t ever burnt before” yes well that’s because your mother is sun lotion tyrant that remembers pinning you down to keep you protected. Have you ever have to give up your picnic food because regardless of how many times you have told your child that sandy hand will equate to sandy food they won’t listen until its happened to them? They have, and will continue to, ruin summer for many years to come.
Summer used to be for beer gardens and late night BBQ’s now it’s for ice cream fights and baths ever night.

In fairness the sunshine has also brought with it use of beaches, paddling pools, splash parks and garden fun and whilst I’m not having to stop my son from emptying the pool and eating the sand it has been rather pleasant.

Hitting The Town In 5 Easy Steps.

There are many perils to consider; I mean is the freedom truly worth the hideous repercussions that you will face in the morning (which to be honest are often even worse than you thought) and if you believe that hangovers get worse the older you are that is nothing compared to what they have the capacity to do to parents. It is not only the fear of the next day you have to conquer but the acceptance that this is a night that you are likely to get even less sleep than normal, you will have to make peace with the impending sleep deprivation and the inclusion of the ‘adult headache’ so that is stage one. Stage two is getting dressed, it is very feasible that this will bring you to tears, because what do people actually wear when they go out these days? Not only is it safe to say that the vast majority of shops no longer accommodate for the size of my arse and the width of my hips I am far from ready to don the very fashionable crop tops they seem so eager to flog me, so whilst I breakdown in front of very limited wardrobe I will inevitably have my first drink. Stage three is actually leaving the house without the pram; never have my arms felt so redundant. Going out at night is super weird when you haven’t done it for the best part of 18 months, it is cold and dark and really the time when you should be in bed waiting for the party that is going to wake up everyone in your house at around 2am but hell you have done it now, congratulations! Stage four is probably the worse stage; you are no longer comfortable with being out, it happened so quickly but all of a sudden you are faced with the prospect of drinking and dancing and your first sip has already rendered you tipsy and you have no idea how to even move to the music that is being played. If you did not realise it before now; having a baby ages you, it is a mixture of the shit sleep, the lack of interaction you have following the birth of an all consuming monster and right now it is evident, you did not realise that it is fashionable to wear see-through clothes with sequinned bras, trousers with more holes in them than a golf course and that pubs appear to now be letting in twelve year olds. It is all very difficult but the vodka is making it easier and before you know it you are on the dance floor trying to perform the ‘big fish/little fish’ dance moves in rhythm to the beat of every song (that ultimately all sound the same) they are playing. Stage five, trying to get home, if you thought that getting out your house was hard you will be shocked about how difficult it is now to get back there, not only are you drunk and slow but you are hungry, really really hungry and the only thing better than a regular hangover is one that is flavoured with the reminisce of the previous nights kebab. If you are lucky enough to not have lost your keys you will still have a terrible time trying to get them in the keyhole before you struggle to try and undo the damage of all the noise you have already made by sneaking up the stairs. You may have mastered how to avoid ever single creak that is made on the journey up the stairs but that training has all been lost whilst inebriated but if you manage to get up them without waking the baby there is no way that your partner won’t be up and waiting, especially if like me you had reassured them it wouldn’t be a late night and actually it is now early morning.

But oh my gosh would I do it all again? Of course, I just may need another 6 months to recover from this one.

I Hate Everything.

So as I ponder what might be a fun activity to pass the many hours until bed time I am reminded of how much I hate activities. These are a few of the many things that I have the displeasure of doing quite frequently:

I hate Parks.

I cannot remember a time young or old that I enjoyed parks, they seem to be an area containing an inexplicable number of climbing apparatus designed to both entertain your children and very likely damage them. I swear half the ‘play things’ found in our local parks have been designed by people who hate parents and they just keep getting higher and faster as though there is any actual need for this. I know that I sound like a grumpy mumma who hates the idea of fun but actually I am just a chronic worrier which is undeniably worse. Then there are the things that really shouldn’t be in the park such as dog shit, smoking swearing teenagers, and often the very distinctive smell of weed so if we combine the antisocial behaviour and the risk of death I like to avoid parks where I can but unfortunately with two children I cannot. Bravo.

I Hate Soft Play.

Probably one of the worst ‘child friendly’ activities for the attentive parent, these places breed the notice that as long as your child is okay on their feet and they are passed a certain age (massively variable from parent to parent) it is totally acceptable to have a cuppa and stare at your phone for two hours. I also begrudge paying for my son (when taking my daughter) who is under a year old when he is confined to the smallest area of mat with a few balls and soft toys, the real issue I have with this is simply that I have to police this area for it to be safe because all those big children who cannot read the sign saying ‘babies only’ jump through it knocking over all the little ones, whilst their parents are still sipping that cold coffee and checking out what Susan did over the weekend. And breathe. Also who cleans that place? How do they clean that place? They are normally not very well ventilated and full to the rafters of children sweating like they are in a night club; I have found old socks, plasters, bits of tissue in these places. Also like if those points were not nearly enough to have to deal with let’s talk about colds, these areas of play must be a haven for germs and with the lack of possible ways to clean an establishment that has 15 ball pits in I very much doubt the child with the snotty nose and the cough is keeping himself to himself.

I Hate the Swimming Pool.

Now swimming pools are not that bad, they are clean (regardless of the amount of child piss that must be released) they are well manned by people ready to save your life and very often the baby friendly area is lovely and heated but if like me you are still carrying some baby weight mixed with some emotional weight and a good serving of exhaustion weight you might wish to avoid them anyway. There is nothing that feels me with anxiety like the idea of getting down to even a one-piece for all those people (who are not actually watching) to see, it is not just the extra padding that has found its way onto my arse, my thighs, my arms, well let’s just say everywhere it’s those unwelcome fucking friends it has also brought like Mr Cellulite and Mr Stretch-Marks (they are Mr’s for obvious reasons). Consider the time it takes just shaving for such a catastrophic event, especially when that time isn’t given freely by your baby. If like me you are also scared of the hairdressers you will know the very real threats of having people see you with wet hair, it feels me with horror that a women being paid to sort the birds nest I call my hair has to see it let alone people just heading out for some leisurely fun.

I just don’t get it.

I guess I don’t get it, there is more I don’t know than that of which I do, I’m not going to pretend I understand, nor that I have any answers. We face an election that has come during a time where world events are rather scary, and with this in mind that many people look to the strong who say they are not scared of the fight, or those ready and willing to take the lives of others. There are no winners in nuclear wars, so why is there such a fixation on them? People talk about the environment (and rightly so) they fear for the extinction of animals, for the devastation of the rain forests, the melting of the polar ice caps, but if we embark upon a nuclear war then these ice caps won’t even have the time to fucking melt. If we allow those we don’t know to have their identities scrutinised over their religion and the actions of few we encourage the segregation that they are already facing.  When we take from our children we make their futures unpredictable, their education unstable, their national health service questionable. When we argue over what unskilled workforces should have we underestimate what they need, what they could be, what they want to be. I have said that I do not have the answers, I don’t even know what questions to ask but here are a few circling my mind.

Why would you risk the continuation of the NHS?

Why would you make unnecessary changes to the education system only to benefit the elite?

Why cannot we give more to those who don’t have?

I don’t know the cost of securing the future of the next generations, I don’t know what the costs would be to raise the living wage, I don’t know what the cost would be to save the NHS, but I do know that these things are important to so many and maybe it might be worth finding out. I’m not about concentrating on what I have, my concern is for those that don’t have or won’t have.

When you take from people who have less so you can have more that’s an issue.

When your concern is how much is being given to those that have less that’s an issue.

If your biggest fear in this election is what you get when there are:

Homeless people living on the streets.

Refugees fleeing from bombs.

Children living in poverty

If we changed the mindset from ‘it’s their own fault’ to ‘what can I do to help?’ What do you think would happen? The welfare system is always being challenged by those who feel they don’t need it.

The way I see it is it’s not what the politicians can do for me it is what they can do for people who need them more.

These may not be your wants but they are the sentiments of the party you support.

School Fines.

So this has been very heavily shared on Facebook today and I kinda wanna explain why I’m pleased he lost. 

Other mum’s  are the worst for telling you what they think you should do and being massively pushy and judgmental when you don’t follow their led. Well they fucking hate it when the government sets guidelines and rules about the expectations of the education system and trying reinforce that fact that kids should not miss school and that education is paramount. The majority of responses were comments surrounding the cost of holidays during half term and how they’re saving £100’s taking their children out of school. Well with that saving pay the fucking fine. You’re going to do what you want to and you’re going to pass Disneyland off as more educational than the day they learn the fundamentals of fractions that you have since long forgotten. Obviously everyone varies as do holiday destinations and educational learning whilst abroad. 

This fine may actually work as deterrent for much bigger issues such as teenagers skipping when their parents suddenly have to pay for this. 

Oh and then there are all the comments about teacher training and strike days. Well as far as I know teachers strike for many a good reason, pay, work conditions, lack of school funding not because they are going to Spain on the cheap. Also god forbid we allow teachers to be trained during term time instead of making them use their holiday, it ultimately benefits your children. Do you know a teacher? Did you know a vast amount of their holiday is spent preparing classes for the next term. Did you know they also don’t fucking fine you, this is government legislation? 

Also there is uproar about a fine, fuck what the conservatives are doing to school system right at this moment and how it may go on to affect future generations? 

Don’t like the rules of the school system we have in place as a country that has education for EVERYONE? Home school, move to Australia where they aren’t like this ‘nanny state’ (so many comments about Australia). 

Ps Australia doesn’t want you so you don’t have to send your children to school everyday. 

We are trying to give our children the best of everything and prepare them for life in the big bad world, it’s hard to get that balance but just imagine what would happen to you at work if you just decided not to go in. I’d imagine it would be worse than a fine. Also I get that everyone has ‘exceptional circumstances’ but probably not all of you. 

What the actual…..

So I was quite concerned by the presence of this in my news feed on Facebook:

“One thing we’re absolutely assured of is that if we could emancipate all the women in the world like that,” he said with a snap of his fingers, “the birth rate would drop considerably. Because educated women have fewer kids, for obvious reasons: they have a greater scope to enjoy a richer life. We know that for a fact.”

Well personal I think that’s bullshit. I’m going to call this out, I don’t think it’s smarter to have a small family, I think those who have a good career to return to MAY choose the financial security of fewer children. There after hours of thinking this is how I’ve put it. Children are fucking expensive and the more you have the higher the cost is with childcare, maybe higher educated women happen to have more financial restraints because we all live to our means, and that may be a job you cannot afford to leave if you catch my drift. My salary was mediocre, without it we survive, however if it was high and we had more monetary commitments due to a lifestyle before children than maybe living on one wage would not work? I don’t think it’s because educated people prefer their ‘riches’ and I don’t think that means those with large families are under-educated poor people. 

And why the fuck is it always ‘let’s scrutinise the mothers’ clearly it’s solely a woman thing, we procreate independently?? 

Tell me what you think. 

Oh no she didn’t…..

….oh yes she did!

Now let’s make something very clear, in the words of Bridie Larter ‘it’s a blog not a fucking rule book’. This is something I do for enjoyment, it’s something I do for my sanity and you are all welcome to read, ignore or even slate but this is not a guidebook and I do not want anyone to feel that what I am or anyone else featured on the blog is doing is better than you or that you suddenly have to stop and do it differently. You’ve got this, you don’t need my shitty guidance nor my acceptance. In fact I wanted to involve loads of you to demonstrate that one size does not fit all, I am a very different mother to my son than I was to my daughter at his age and do you know why? They are different children. So what I let my baby cry and learn to self settle, I did that and you don’t have to and just so you know I actually settle him myself (rightly or wrongly) during waking hours but during unsociable ungodly hours he is feed changed and put back to bed. Mother like no one is judging, own what you fucking do, celebrate your motherhood and above all spread love like is butter! 

I was told I sit on the fence, that I was diplomatic and therefore not as honest maybe as someone standing for a cause or a style, do you know what I stand for? Being allowed on my bloody fence, taking it in, being objective, never turning down or away. If you want professional advice on what is considered best for your baby go to a professional not to me, I’m just a dummy plodding along with 2 wonderful children from 2 amazing dads, a Labrador and a really fat cat. 

I would however like to express apologies to anyone offended by this blog that is SERIOUSLY NOT what I’m about, and confirm to them I’m not biased, I’ll cover any baby mumma style but what I am is not a great writer so maybe the odd thing (maybe a lot of things) slip in and I don’t own Bernard’s watch which means I have all sort of time restraints. 

Peace out ✌🏻