Ever since Lil grew into this little person with opinions (and boy does she have a few), I've felt unsettled. And one day, I put my finger on why... I didn't want to live here anymore (here being a town in NW Kent), I wanted a better life for my family and that meant moving to a different area. Derbyshire was my dream, a little house in a remote part of the Peak District with chickens in the garden and sheep for neighbours. Space for my little outdoor baby to enjoy. Fresh air and friendly folk. it's what we needed as a family. To flourish. We talked about it for two years and then finally it looked like we were going to do it. And then I freaked out.

So we had a rethink. And I cried and screamed and cursed. And that was when Plan B was born. 

Being four hours away from my family wasn't ideal. But being 45 minutes away? That could work. So one morning not that long ago, we saw a house. A wonderful house that I instantly fell in love with so we went to have a look at it. It was a 5 minute walk to the sea, close to the station and some lovely parks in a little town full of independent butchers and bakers and green grocers. Cool little coffee shops, great schools, nice people.   After hurried chats and some negotiating... It was ours!

So, you see, we're moving forward and moving home. Our lifestyle will change, hopefully life will be simpler and quieter and full to the brim with positivity. We'll eat vegetables from the local green grocer and meat from the butchers around the corner. Sunday coffee won't come from Starbucks but from an independent coffee shop and we'll spend as much time as we can outdoors. 

And that (amongst a few other reasons) is why I've been quiet. It isn't until you move home that you realise just how much crap you have and I don't want my life full of crap so we are having a mental clear out and spending most of our time on eBay. Or cleaning. Or getting excited for raves on the beach if Summer ever arrives. So we move in almost three weeks and we're still surrounded by crap! Uh oh.

See you on the other side!

Don't forget, you can sponsor Lil for her Big Toddle for Barnardo's here. 

Just to clarify...

I wrote this post when I was mad at Lil's father, which seems to be quite often at the moment. I'm not sure if it's because he just doesn't get how hard things can be during the day or because of the mental hormones that are still raging around my body. Who knows? Either way, I felt the need to clarify a few things so I did. And I'm pretty sure other Mums feel the need to clarify the following, too...

Yeah, I went to bed at 11pm and woke up at 8:30. But that does not mean I got nine and a half hours of sleep. Oh no. Because while you were snoring in the other room, I was up at least four times in the night feeding our newborn / seeing to our teething toddler / trying to calm down a hysterical child who was just eaten by monsters in her nightmare.

This shit hole you come home to every night... Well shit hole it ain't, darlin'. For if I was to leave the housework all day and not tidy up after our sweet little child, you'd see exactly what a shit hole looked like. 

The wine I'm knocking back in the kitchen? That isn't a celebratory bottle after a day of successful potty training. Nuh uh, that right there is what happens when your child tries to break me. Every. Fucking. Day.

You had a long, shitty day? Oh baaaabe. You work with a bunch of tossers? You're tired and hungry? Let me just fetch you some dinner... HOLD UP. I have long, shitty days too. And I have experience with tossers except one tosser stands about this high and calls me Mummy and I'm looking at the other one right now. I'm fucking tired from being up all night and haven't had a chance to eat all day because that tosser* has run me ragged. So go boo hoo somewhere else.

Calm down? CALM DOWN? I blast my body with hormones so I don't find myself in pregnancy hell again and you want me to calm down? You think I can control my moods? Do you? How about I'm done fucking my body up. It's your turn. No more injectable hormones or any hormones for that matter. It's time for you to have a little operation...

You know how I'm always moaning about the fact I have nothing to wear? Do you know why that is, Mr I own 10 pairs of jeans, 8 shirts and countless t-shirts??? Because I don't. Go take a look in my wardrobe, go on. Now look in the kids wardrobe. And yours. Now give me your credit card. Mama needs, DESERVES some new clothes. You forget I don't get paid a salary. Hell, it would seem I don't even get paid in love or affection anymore. PAYRISE. In clothes.

*I don't think my child is a tosser. Not all of the time anyway. My husband, however... 


Contrary to popular belief (and the fact that I can be a total gobshite sometimes), I'm a traditional girl at heart. I think making and keeping traditions is super important too.

One tradition I grew up with was visiting a part of Spain with my Grandparents as a child. They had friends there and their friends had a grandchild too, Giovanni his name was (and I was totally in love). We went almost every year and I have very happy memories of our time spent there. I took Lilian with my Grandparents for the first time when she was five months old and we've just booked to go back there in a few weeks time but this time, unfortunately, without them. I can't wait to show her places I visited as a kid and play on the same beach my brother and I first ran around on twenty years ago (ugh - old).

Another tradition, a new one, is Friday and Saturday night disco. This started about three months ago and is the brainchild of Lil and her father. Ever since she was in utero, I made a point of listening to a lot of loud music and I like to think I've played my part in her obsession with music. The kid loves it. And it's a perfect way to wind down on a Friday night after a sometimes shitty week. As soon as dinner has been eaten, it's party time.

Normal disco attire

And another? Family weekend. We have a HUGE family, both mine and Tim's parents are divorced so we try to do the huge family rounds every month but what almost always gets left out is family time, the three of us as a family doing things as just the three of us. I think that's the most important time of all so every month now I book an entire weekend out on the calendar. We do something or nothing but either way, it's just us three.

Down time

As the years go by, I'm going to create more and more family traditions and I hope that Lil will carry them on when she's an adult. (Funnily enough, I'm just about to start a 1200 word assignment on tradition - nowhere near as fun as my traditions though...)

What are your family traditions?

Your day.

Us lot over here in the UK had our Mother's Day in March but Lil and I would like to wish all you Mama's in other parts of the world a very Happy Mother's Day.

On Pirates and Power Rangers.

Just recently, Lil has shown an interest in pirates (my Dad fought one once - oh yeah, true story bro). This pleases me greatly because I like a pirates (not actual real baddy ones, just ones like Captain Jack Sparrow).

We are currently in the process of collecting enough cardboard boxes to build a pirate ship for her to play in. I thought about making a hat and a parrot and a cutlass but I ended up turning to Amazon - good ol' internet.

I uhmmed and ahhed for about four hours over whether on not to buy her a cutlass. It appears to be harder these days to buy things like swords and guns (toy ones) in shops. We searched high and low in Wilko's, the pound shop, Sainsbury's etc. Nada. And then it got me thinking (I'm fully aware I'm not Carrie Bradshaw), is it because of all the violence that goes on these days that we can't just pop to the shop to buy a cutlass?

I think sometimes we all just need to calm the fuck down.

When I was a kid (here we go), that shit just didn't phase anyone. My brother had (toy) guns and swords galore. Power Rangers were in and we used to fight each other all the time (I'm also aware there is a five year age gap between my brother and I but sometimes when you're ten, boyband lusting and skipping ropes get dull... pretending to stab your annoying baby brother is way more fun and there was totally no malice involved... LIE). We didn't grow up to be psycho murderers and the like.

The other day, Lil was watching old school Looney Tunes and there was violence in one scene. 'Oh blimey,' Lil's Dad said, 'Do you think we should switch it over?'. ER....WHY? Because she might hunt down some dynamite to shove up our arses when we're asleep and set light to it? Nah. Let the kid watch it. The world has gone mad.

Anyway, back to pirates. I ordered the cutlass and I think there was a pistol in the pirate kit too. I'm just gonna let my kid enjoy being a pirate and (pretend to) shoot the dog. She can sail the seven seas as much as she likes and fight other pirates (her Dad) with her cutlass, it doesn't mean she's violent.

Let kids be kids and enjoy their childhood. Cutlasses, pistols and all...

A reminder.

Filling in the spaces.

My stay in teething hell has meant I haven't had the energy to write about shit. Not actual shit, stuff we've been up to. So I thought I'd fill in the spaces with pictures.

Spiky penis plant - gardening is the new black

Stylin' her WMM dunga's

I'm the mother at making Mojito's

Early morning sunshine has meant we get our shit together and are out the house by nine thirty. Go us.

Mother / daughter coffee date

Playing outdoors - this one is definitely an outdoor baby

MM Post

MM Swag - It isn't as bad as you think. Except for when they throw a tantrum and then throw up.

Skateboard painting with the amazing Indikidual

Cooking is like therapy for me - Sweet potato, red lentil and spinach dahl

A rare picture of Lil's parents

A spontaneous dinner opposite Canary Wharf



As I sit here at the kitchen table, coughing and sneezing (THANKS LIL), I feel anxious. Lil is drawing a picture and feels the needs to colour over the stickers she just stuck down... 'Lil NO NOT ON THE STICKERS'. I get a dirty look. A similar scenario to when she mixes the Play Doh colours up. I mean, that shit just isn't on. And then at the weekend, she got covered in paint. As I watched in horror, her Dad shouted across 'It WILL wash out, don't worry'. It did wash out.

I guess I'm trying to give you examples of how... highly strung I am? How I can't just let her get messy and fuck the Play Doh colours up. It hurts my brain. And I'm sure I'm not the only parent who's like this. DON'T JUMP IN THE PUDDLE, GET AWAY FROM THE MUD, DON'T TOUCH THE ANTS.

God. I'm sick of it. It's exhausting. My Mum never gave a shit if I got paint down me, so why am I so bothered? I need to chill out. So I've decided that from today, she can get as messy as she likes. I'm over stressing about stupid kid things, she's exactly that... a kid. Kids get messy and find it satisfying to mix colours and get mud all down them. You only live once, so I'm going to join in and get messy too.

Here's to mess, ants, mud and letting her be free to express herself...