I’m Still Here…

When I set up this blog it was a way for me to get things off my chest and also a way to let the world know that kids are kids but that doesnt mean us adults have to like it!!

Like I said in my previous post, I’ve had alot to deal with in the last year and it hasn’t been easy. I’ve really struggled to find the happiness and laughter in my family again and its only now that as we are coming up to the year anniversary of when all the shit started that I can finally see how far we have come and how much better we are now.

We moved house. It wasn’t our choice, our hands were forced and that was the start of a very troublesome few months for us. On top of all that I was planning my Wedding. We moved into our new home 3 weeks before our Wedding…that’s how close it was and that’s the level of stress I was under. The kids didn’t understand. They thought it was one big adventure, and I suppose in a way it was, but how I wish that I had just a few minutes access to their innocent minds to see how they saw it and maybe, just maybe, I could of breathed a little more.

I’m not even sure how I managed to keep it all together…and to be honest, I don’t think I did because the few months after the move and the Wedding I felt like I was in this limbo stage. Not quite knowing where I was or even who I was. I turned 30 a couple of months later and that’s when it all hit me. I realised I had become a fully fledged adult, moved 10 times in 12 years, had 2 kids and gained one, and got married. My brain decided right then there that despite all this change and upheaval and all this stress of the past few months…it was going to give me one final challenge.

So I quit my job.

That was scary. The job I was in was a comfortable one. It was safe and I could of been there a long long time. But the dynamics of it all, losing precious family time and the stress just wasnt worth it. It was one of those jobs you go in to at a young age and work your way up, but I wanted to take it at my own pace and work to where I wanted to be when I wanted to be. That job would never of allowed me to do that. I made sure I knew what I was doing (even if I didn’t really have a clue) and went straight into another job two days later…and I haven’t regretted it one bit. I work with children now (mental much?!) but it is so rewarding. Some days I come home tired but other days I’m energised and happy that maybe I made a slight difference to one of the children that day, however small. Also, I get my weekends and my kids school holidays off too…which has had an amazing effect on me and my children. We can plan things and actually do them, or we can chill at home and they dont have to worry about Mummy going off to work later that day. We can stay in our pjs and watch movies or do messy crafts and cooking without me watching the clock.

One more thing I did in my mini “midlife crisis” was start Uni. Online of course and only part time, but it is a degree in childcare and I genuinely cannot believe that I am actually doing it! I love that I am trying to make something of myself and still have the family and life I wanted.

I guess what I am trying to say is that yes, there was some troubling times and really really down days, but through all that…I’m still here! I made it. And all those times I thought the stress would break actually made me and forced me to really think about what I wanted and I am shocked at how far I have come.

So if you made it this far in a very long warbling post then I thank you!! Thank you for reading and letting me get this off my chest. My kids are still little shits, my husband still tests my restraint as a human and my teenage step daughter has found new buttons of mine to push that even I didn’t know I had. All is back to normal and relatively sane.

Well…almost ๐Ÿ™‚




When I started this I was determined to be one of those that kept it up 24/7 and made sure every aspect of my life was shared with the world and how I managed all that with kids and still remained sane. 

Sadly that hasnt happened. June 2017 was the last time I was here, we are now January 2018…so much for keeping it up. I would say sorry, but I can’t. Not because I’m and arragont bitch but because the 7 months have been a huge rollercoaster of ups, downs, twists, turns and aprupt stops. It would be silly of me to apologise for not being around when so much was going on that needed my attention. They were as follows…

Moving House

Getting Married

Not A Honeymoon

Changing Job

Starting Uni 

Turning 30 (Holy F**k!!)

The 3 Year Old’s 4th Birthday


I have a few posts that I have ready regarding all said events that needed my attention…but for now I just wanted to check in and let you know that I’m still alive, my kids are still alive (just) and I still like Gin.

After all of the above, who can blame me for taking some time out?

I promise I wont leave it as long next time.


Fuck Off Summer…

โ€‹Its the weekend which means the darling kids are at home…and I couldn’t be in any more of a “can’t be arsed” mood if I tried ๐Ÿ˜ฃ

The 3yo has learnt a new phrase…

Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome to the stage…“ITS NOT FAIR”๐Ÿค—๐Ÿ‘

Me: So, INF, how does it feel to be back?

INF: Yeah it feels good. Its good. I’ve been away for a while as you know. Work load dwindled a bit and it was time to leave for pastures new, but I am glad to be back. I did briefly make an appearance last year with The 14yo but you didnt like that very much so I left.

Me: Yes, I remember. It really wasnt a good time at all and Im glad you left when you did…Im not sure my nerves could of lasted. So what made you come back?

INF: Well it was The 3yo actually. I hadn’t been around to influence her, and as I had done with the previous two I thought it was time.

Me: You know I will beat you again don’t you? I will win.

INF: Have you met The 3yo?

Me: I vaguely remember giving birth to the screaming little turd…

INF: Then we have an understanding?

Me: *sighs in hands*

INF: I’ll go and unpack…

I’m literally on my last nerve. It’s been 1000 fucking degrees outside and I’m almost melting. I must be melting because I’m pretty sure a human can’t sweat that much without it being classed as melting. We have had the pool up for 4 days straight and after the second day we got sick of emptying and refilling it so now the pool resembles some bug invested graveyard. Dont judge me. The little darlings are in it for about 5 minutes before they get bored. I figured that if they were just dipping in it to cool down then no harm was done.

Speaking of the children…this hot weather really, really tests your patience as a parent. If you thought your weekends of freezing cold weather and snow piled up to your knickers, with kids screaming blue murder because they are bored, were hard then the blistering heat we have now, coupled with screaming bored kids, is a kick in the face. They wanna get dressed to go outside. Its too hot to go outside so they strip and you end up closing the curtains so the neighbours are shielded from bare bums. You put the fan on so that its blasting actual wind from Mt Everest because the curtains are trapping the fucking heat and you think you are gonna die. The kids cry because its cold so you turn the fan off. Then the kids decide they want an ice cream but because of the sporadic weather here, it didnt occur to you that we would end up being thrown into the heat of Hell for 4 days straight and so therefore you didnt stock up. You realise that you need to go to the shops…

Now a trip to the Supermarket is daunting at anytime. We know that there are times that should be avoided and we do try really hard. However when you have darling children they often dont give a toss and its almost daily that they need something or you have run out of something because food in the house disappears quicker than you can eat it. Someone forgot to put in the parenting book that when you have kids you are actually feeding a pack of starved lions that need to eat and drink every 30 minutes.

Anyways, back to the supermarket. This obviously meant the kids needed dressing again and by this point I didnt give two hoots at what they wore. As long as the main bits were covered up and they were free of crustations around their mouths I was good to go. The 3yo even decided she was gonna wear her wellys…and not one fuck was given by me. The heat does that to you I think. We got to the Supermarket and I instantly regretted the decision. It would of been far easier to walk around town until we found an ice cream van selling 99’s for the price of a mortgage. 

What is it about the hot weather that makes everyone go mental? Didn’t we all do this last year? And the year before that? HOW MANY BBQs DO YOU NEED?? Everyone I saw was carrying a BBQ…gas ones, coal ones, disposable ones. Its like we all suddenly realised that the sun was out and because we had no idea how long it would last we all decided to break into our overdrafts and buy enough food and drink to have the whole damn town round for the impromptu BBQ. And speaking of drink…we seem to ignore normal standards of society and crack open the booze and pour it over our cornflakes, but hey, its Summer right? 

Once inside, the kids immediately pegged it in different directions and I momentarily got lost in thought whilst looking at the offers on the booze that they stick right in front of the store when the sun shows any sign of life. I eventually locate the demons down the toy aisle, and once I had threatened the existence of their tablets if they didnt move with me to the freezers for the one bloody thing we had come in for, they reluctantly left the shiny heaven of overpriced, jazzed up shit.

I wont bore you with the details regarding buying the sodding ice creams. Im sure you can guess if you have kids that nothing runs smoothly. We had shouting, screaming, crying, Its Not Fair turned up a couple of times which wasn’t needed. Other parents were looking at me and some even offered a sympathetic smile before walking off with Samson and Ricardo Jr, plodding nicely behind said parents in their crisp chino shorts and boat deck shoes. Fuck them. I decided to grab a box of each from the ยฃ1 section and headed to the checkouts. On my way, at the end of an asile there was more booze on offer. I didnt even break pace as I picked up the big green bottle of familiar liquid and tucked it under my arm. The kids must of known that I was on a mission because it was suddenly very quiet near me.

On the walk home I hummed to myself as the devils ripped into the boxes and destroyed the half melted ice creams (did I mention its 1000 fucking degrees outside and they wanted the one thing thats NOT designed for this scorching weather…?) As we got to the front door I didnt even attempt to look at them as I knew they would be covered and the 3yo would have half of it dripping into her wellys. I let them in and told them they were to go straight into the garden where I got the hose pipe and proceeded to spray them down. They thought it was hilarious, I knew it was necessary. They begged to play with it themsleves so I happily passed the hose over and went back inside. 

Sitting down on the sofa with the fan back on and a large gin in my hand I listened to the beautiful sounds of The 3yo holding The 8yo to ransom with water.

Summer is great isn’t it?



I Only Love Her when She Sleeps…

I have never known anything like it in my 8 years as a Mother.

The 8yo was a dream as a baby. Infact, if i could do it all again and I could choose the easy life then damn straight I would have 3 of him in one go. That doesn’t mean I love my other children any less, it just means that the old saying “They never tell you this in the books…” is currently replacing the welcome sign on my front door as a polite warning to anyone that dares step over the threshold.

If I could write a handbook…a genuine truthful handbook on parenting, I know it wouldn’t get published. Not because it was written by a clinically depressed mother hooked on G&T and still clinging to the dregs of her 20’s, but because it would be so bloody brutal that it would put any potential parent off for life. I would effectively kill the human race.

Ive just put The 3yo to bed. The 8yo went off on his own with the normal kiss and cuddle and The 14yo still has an hour to kill on Instagram so it meant I spent the next half hour reading stories and singing songs and wearing the skin off my hands whilst I rub her back. I dont know why it takes half hour…but its the routine she is used to. Anyways, what made me write this post today was as I was using my well practised Ninja skills to leave the room, I looked over to her and saw this…



This is probably the most beautiful picture a mother could ever witness. Her little shit of a toddler has somehow turned into this beautiful angel. So peaceful and calm. Pure innocence.

I felt the most intense surge of love for this girl and every bone in my body wanted to walk back over, pick her up and hold her tight…

Luckily I was born with a half decent brain and immediately left the room and I now have a fresh G&T in my hand.

Please dont get the title of this post wrong. I do genuinely and insanely love my children but from 6am every morning till 8pm every night all thoughts of love go out of my head.

The thing about parenting (and the thing they most certainly do not tell you in the books) is that actually sometimes we dont like our children. Its perfectly normal. Infact, if you come to tell me that you like your children every single minute of every single day then I would be very, very concerned. We are human after all. We all have our own emotions, thoughts, feelings and general needs.

Most days I feel like an over programmed robot. The Future Hubby reckons we are in our own version ofย Groundhog Day. Every day literally feels the same, and so in a sense it is completely impossible to feel the same emotions and feelings as the day before. That thought stretches to my kids aswell. I can’t like them everyday and sometimes in the stress of the every day routine I forget the love too.

The other day I got my first “I dont love you anymore Mummy…” from The 3yo. She was angry at me because I wouldnt let her have sweets at 8 in the morning. In her little toddler brain that was a justified reaction and to be fair to her she has no idea of the difference between like and love she was just clever enough to know that it might hurt me and then she would get sweets. HaHa!

Like I said above, its 6am till 8pm. Every. Single. Day. She’s even getting to the point where she skips a nap after lunch and that can be either a blessing because she will fall asleep quicker at bedtime or it will mean she is about unleash Hell for the next 5 hours because she is over tired. I have never known a child to be so demanding and on the go and it doesn’t look like she is gonna give up anytime soon.

So yes, the terrifying truth is that I only love her when she sleeps. But thats only because its the only time I am allowed to feel it. When the house is quiet and I can gather my thoughts and process the day. Yes, she acted like a spoilt brat and demanded everything. She screamed because we wouldn’t buy her a bright pink calculater which meant her World Domination plans were on hold for a few days. She stamped her foot so many times I thought she would wear a hole in the concrete (we were out for the day) and she shouted for all to hear “I NEVER GET MY OWN WAY!!” Which promted me to almost piss myself with laughter because if Motherhood has taught me anything its that I dont give a shit for tantrums in public. Nor do I care what people think when I blatantly ignore said child.

Im incredibly grateful for the time I get when the kids are in bed. It isn’t just an excuse to have a drink, binge on Netflix or crack open the good chocolate you’ve hidden from little eyes. For me, its a time when I can truly appreciate how much love I have for them and how my life would be so awful without them. And although I am off to go find another drink and then catch up on Netflix, Im also going to take another look at that picture of my angel again and remember that feeling of love she gave me.

In the morning it will be gone, and my Robot Mum mode will be activated.


We Are Not Afraid…


I’ve looked at this picture for a long time and I’ve relived the emotions again and again. My heart stopped, I couldnt breathe and I barely managed to capture the evidence for future story telling.

You see, this picture was taken at a fair local to me about 4 days ago. But its not the picture that caused so much emotion for me, its what it represented.

My 3yo is up there…in one of them chairs. With a thin metal bar stopping her from falling to the ground. She begged me and her Dad to go on the ride. She had seen how high it went and she didnt care. She wasnt afraid at all. I could hear her squeals of delight as it went up and her smile was worth a million. I took the picture…to remind myself in the future that everything turned out ok.

It was the day after the London Bridge attacks. Whilst families like myself were going about our day, other families were torn to shreds upon learning that loved ones had died or had been injured in the barbaric event. These people had been out, having fun with friends or returning home from work after a long day. These were normal every day people doing normal every day things.

However the most remarkable thing about all of this was that just over a week before, there had been another attack in Manchester where more people had died, including a young girl of 8. It was remarkable in the sense that despite all this, the world didnt stop. People were angry, confused and upset but it didnt stop anyone from going back out there and sticking 2 fingers up.

I’ve seen posts after the attacks that discuss talking to children about the attacks, terrorism and death. They give advice on how to speak to your child about the things they have seen or heard on the news or in thier peer groups. Apprently its something we need to do in order to prepare our children.

I call complete bullshit on that. To me, telling children of whats going on in the world is daylight robbery of the one thing we are trying to provide our kids, an innocent childhood. I am very very aware of how lucky my children are to be growing up in a country that provides health services and education, where my kids can wake up and not have to worry about where their next meal is coming from or weather they are going to have to fight to survive another day. Why on Earth do we need to talk to children about the state of our world and make them worry for no reason? Why on Earth should our children have any anxiety about going on a bus or going to a concert just incase something happens?

Yes, the world is in tatters and innocent people are getting hurt. But this has been going on long before we ourselves were children. I grew up watching The Twin Towers collapse, I watched top members of Parliment crush our country into more debt and dispair, buses got blown up in London and a second Gulf War was created and yet not once do I ever remember being scared. Not once do I remember my parents sitting me down and explaining about all the bad stuff that was happening around us. We still went on planes, we still went to London for day trips and got on buses. Nothing changed.

Children deserve to feel safe and protected. They deserve to have fun without any worry. Those children that went to the concert in Manchester didnt have a clue of the horror that faced them. All they were thinking about was the fun they were going to have and the memories they would create. No one knows what is going to happen or what the future holds.

My 3yo looked at that ride and saw nothing but fun. She wasnt thinking about the potential danger, she didn’t think about the fear, she just knew she wanted to do it. This is how children should be living their lives. In complete innocence and without worry.

Its our job as adults to do the worrying and to fix what mistakes we made so our children dont grow up in a world where fear runs their life.

Do what you have been putting off. Skydive, climb a moutain, go for that drink with that guy, quit your job and go travelling. Live. Your. Life.

If we don’t, then what hope do our children have?



The Five Year Gap…

Hey there! So we are now entering the “i can do it, im a big girl” phase WHOOP!!

Anyways…I hope you like this one xx

We have 3 magic numbers in our house. They consist of the 3 year old girl, the 8 year old boy and the 14 year old girl. My kids. 
They all hold one thing in common. 

There are about five years between each of them. 

It wasn’t done on purpose. We have two families so to speak in our home. There’s me and my boy then theres my partner and his 14 year old daughter. The youngest is ours together which joins us all as one. 

Im happy with that. My workload is hard and my days are long but it’s rewarding in its own little way. 

The one thing I wasn’t counting on was the hell that came with the age gaps. It’s a complete nightmare trying to make sure that each of the kids are happy every day. I personally feel that I’ve not accomplished one day…let alone everyday.

Each child has completely different needs. What works for one in the form of entertainment doesnt work for the other two. What two of them want to do the other one wont. We have arguments every single day. Thats normal in itself I suppose but it’s so damn hard!! 

The Three Year Old

If I was going to put an order to how difficult each child was on a daily basis I would put my two year old at the very top. She’s a whirlwind. She literally runs the house. The youngest one with the biggest gob and the most demanding nature I have ever seen. I can’t keep up with her. The day I figure her out is the day she ups her game and I have to start all over again. 

Let me give you an insight as to what its like living with her and how mature and grown up…and how insanely switched on she is for a 3 year old.

The other day I had come home from work with the hope that my kids were tucked up in bed and I could have a cheeky glass of vino before hitting the pillow myself. I rounded the corner to my house and noticed our bedroom light was on (she currently sleeps in our room in her own bed) so it was the first question I had to ask The Future Hubby…he however was as baffled as me as he left The 3 Year Old in her bed asleep. When I ventured up there she was sitting proud as punch on my bed. I asked her why the light was on (infact all the lights were on including my fairy lights above my bed) 

The 3 Year Old:  It was too dark to sleep mummy.

Me:  Yes ok but you need to go back to bed please. Its dark because its bedtime.

The 3 Year Old: My bed isnt comfy enough.

This went on for another 15 minutes with various questions and I eventually realised that almost an hour after being put to bed she was clearly wide awake and was not going to attempt to lay back down. So I decided to bring her downstairs with me for a bit much to the annoyance of myself and Future Hubby.

After almost half hour of her messing around downstairs and asking for breakfast….juice….blanket….Paw Patrol on the tablet I turned to her and told her to settle down, that I was going to ignore her and chill out for a bit before me and her both go to bed.

10 Seconds Later….

The 3 Year Old:  Mummy…




Me: Yes? (I really gritted my teeth)

The 3 Year Old:  Ha! I thought you were ignoring me.

I shit you not I could of swung for that child. Future Hubby was laughing, The 3 Year Old just sat there staring at the tablet with the straightest face and I resembled something like a goldfish at feeding time. I had no words and I was completely floored by her.

Ive spawned the Devil and I apologise to all of mankind right now. 

The 8 Year Old

This is my boy. My first born, my only son, mummy’s little prince. I love him dearly, I wouldn’t change him for the world…but my God is he hard to bring up in todays world.

When he was born I had all these wonderful ideas of how he is going to grow up and what he was going to be when he was older. And to be fair those dreams are still there, but I fear that they are just dreams. When he was 6 he was diagnosed with ADHD and 2 years later with DCD which is a mobility disorder. He is the most loving and caring child out of all three that I have but his disability has alot of drawbacks. For instance, The 3 Year Old is actually far more intelligent in her mind and can understand things a lot quicker than he can. Its nice to see that she will have no hardship growing up or have issues at school but it is also very upsetting to watch. A five year gap should be more apparent in mental age and learning capability but both of them are pretty much on the same level with The 3 Year Old progressing a lot faster than her older brother. I can’t explain the feeling I have in my stomach knowing that he is getting left further and further behind. 

To be fair though when it comes to entertaining him, he is pretty simple…both him and The 3 Year Old can binge on Peppa Pig like its being cancelled tomorrow.

The 14 Year Old

One day I’m gonna shake my mum’s hand. Not sure when yet, because you know, pride and all that but I know I need to.


My mum has done it twice…with two girls, and now she is about to go through her 3rd…also a girl. I think my mum is insane. Ive been in The 14 Year Old’s life since she was 9 and I genuinely hate teenagers. Not because of her but because nowadays they are just awful! Was I like that? 

Anyways…entertainment wise shes pretty easy but she literally has no imagination. Its all Insta this and Face that…selfies, miming to music lyrics, duck face and ridiculous fashion sense…but if that was taken off of her for whatever reason and you asked her to read a book or do some art or anything that didnt invole a screen…its like the world has ended. Literally. She is at that awful stage where she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the younger two but when shes forced to it has to be on her terms or not at all.

She also likes to mother my kids.

We clash alot.

So theres a slight insight to my daily grind of keeping everybody happy. There is The Future Hubby to contend with too but to be fair at the age of 38 he’s pretty darn easy. Feed. Cuddle. Playstation.