Dear Father Christmas

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Dear Father Christmas,

This year for Christmas I'd like;

1. An extra pair of arms,
2. The ability to be in four places at once,
3. More hours in the day,
4. At least 5 hours undisturbed sleep a night (I know it should be more but I'm not expecting miracles.)
5. I'd like to walk into a room and REMEMBER why I'm there,
6. I'd like to be more organised (I feel like if you sorted 2 and 4 for me 5 and 6 wouldn't even be an issue.)
7. I'd like the memory of somebody that has slept in the past 4 years.
8. I'd like to have the energy to have an actual conversation with my husband when my kids have gone to bed.
9. I'd like my kids to go to bed.
10. In their own beds...
11 ...and stay there.
12. I'd like to be allowed to use the toilet without being cried at or accompanied and if it's all the same to you I'd also really rather not have a conversation through the door.
13. I'd really like somebody else to cook dinner sometimes...
14. ..Or just to load the dishwasher AFTER I've cooked dinner.

If all else fails I'd settle for a lifetime supply of prosecco 🍾


Yours exhaustedly,
Jess 😘

The toys are taking over!

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Trying to make room for more bastard toys!

I HATE sorting out kids toy boxes/cupboards before Christmas!

I've thrown away a bin bag and a half full of rubbish....but have managed just half a bag full of toys that they don't play with.

I just know they aren't going to allow me to give away...

...even though they haven't played with or even touched let alone thought about in the last decade!

Every single toy in that (half a) bin bag will suddenly become the crown jewel 💎 of toys...that they will literally die if they don't have...

I will become the world's 🌎 worst mum for daring to put this treasure into said bin bag in the first place....!

....they will scowl at me whilst clutching their (now) TREASURED possessions like they don't even know who I am anymore!

There will be no more room for more fucking toys than when I started my kids will just hate me that little bit more!

I might as well give up trying to have any part of my house toyless and give in and face the fact that the toys are taking over....and start answering the phone 'Hello...Mr Magorium's wonder emporium?'

As a parent do you ever?

As a parent do you ever:

spend so much time in the house with your child when they've been ill that you worry that your social skills will have dissolved almost completely by the time you're free to roam once again
in the adult world....and you will have lost the power to converse about anything other than peppa pig or worse you've spent so long
reading football related annuals/magazines to your young son whilst he's been poorly you're worried you'll be forced to only talk about FOOTBALL and worst of all; you'll KNOW what you're talking about!!! People will start thinking you LIKE football! They will start inviting you to watch it! The worst bit is you'll have to accept because you'll have lost all your ACTUAL friends when you lost your ability to talk about anything remotely interesting!

No?! Just me? Fuck my life 🍾

inspire and flourish linky

This right here is my fledgling attempt at participating in a linky, I'm not entirely sure on the rules and regulations of a linky so I'm just; like most things I do, winging it (life, eyeliner, parenting) The lovely gorgeousgeorgesmama was good enough to include me in hers so here I am attempting to continue in the love sharing.

If you're a new reader; I'm something of a novice blogger more of a professional ranter (it so IS a word!) I don't get as much time as I'd like to participate in said blogging/ranting (or sadly reading other people's) as a result my blog is nowhere near as fancy as some of the utter beauties I've come across on my travels. 

MY blog much like myself as a parent is slightly worn, constantly exhausted, and ever so slightly out of shape but that's ok because all my energies are taken up by my full time job; impersonating (poorly) a superhero (parenting) with 8 arms (why aren't there more arachnid superheroes?!) As I myself spend my entire life running around after what seems like 500 children, a man and a cat whilst caring for my young son who has 4 limbed cerebral palsy, for want of a better description; Caring gives the impression I'm looking after someone that is ill in bed, when in fact it feels more like being a weight lifting cbeebies presenter who moonlights as a personal assistant with a nursing degree with a side-line in pharmaceuticals, so the last thing I want when I sit down (haha I jest, I mean read on my phone (that I incidentally smashed to smithereens last week whilst balancing it vicariously on the kitchen side on top of a sugar tin attempting to read a recipe) whilst running around like a blue arsed fly) for a little bit of light entertainment is endless blogs by people that are pretending that everything is perfect..so here is a list of parents who are keeping shit real! enjoy:

Firstly I'd like to properly introduce the lovely lady that was good enough to include me in this linky gorgeousgeorgesmama who is a fellow stay at home Mum and her blog, particularly her post confession of a proverbial fuck up which is a post I think many/most...if not all stay at home parents can relate to, and I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for my tardiness in participating in said linky and also to reassure her that if she is a fuck up then so am I! PS. Care bear rock!

I'd also like you to meet the wonderful creator of said linky The less refined mind and her linky http://www.refinedprose.com/inspire-flourish-increase-da/ who incidentally I would have included whether or not she had taken it upon herself to give life to this linky. As I really enjoy her blog refinedprose.com I find her refreshingly honest and wonderfully articulate.To the mother whose autistic child couldn't behave is a brave and completely honest post and as someone that has autism and disabilities in general intrinsically woven into her daily life I just wanted to include it, also I utterly adored this post I dislike other people's children you and me both! (hopefully I've done your linky justice.)

Meet the lovely part time working Mummy who is truly a woman after my own heart in her realism and blatent honesty, I particularly enjoyed her post We're all the same but in all honesty she has me in stitches on a daily basis and so eloquently deals with the issue of Mum guilt! (we all have it! whether we are stay at home or working, promote breast or bottle, are tea total or functioning alcoholic.

Hurrah for gin is already well on her way to world domination, and quite rightly so, this woman quite simply has parenting in a nut shell (with the help of stick men and copious amounts of gin) kids don't stop talking (2 of mine nagging me incessantly as we speak whilst I desperately try to finish this post.)

Queen Constance Hall almost needs no introduction, I have the hugest girl crush on this woman, in fact I nominate her for world leader 4 things that upset me that upset me when I first became a mum that I'm #nofucks about now just encapsulates what she is about.

I could go on to include many more parent bloggers that inspire me but it's seriously getting like lord of the flies up in here so peace out!

Muuuum Who's your favourite premier league team? ⚽️👩🏼🔫

Today has been sick....no, not in a good way, I'm not attempting to be street; it's literally been sick, there's been the distinct stench of vomit in the air...there have in fact been points where I felt like I was literally swimming in the stuff.

My little man has a bug and I feel so sorry for the poor little mite, anyone that reads my other blog knows he has enough going on as it is http://thesecretworldofmax.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1but germs do not discriminate (quite rightly...perhaps the rest of the world could take a lift out of their teeny tiny parasitic book....)we are all one and same to them....anyway he's ok; he never really lets anything get him down for long, as long as he's gleefully tormenting me with something sport/football related! Today's delights have included reruns of the world cup qualifiers (now ladies don't be jealous) and I have been so lucky as to get the opportunity to read 'The official Arsenal annual 2016' (cover to cover...whilst feigning interest) without my poorly little dude's influence I feel this experience is one I'd have otherwise missed out on in life and now I know far more about Arsenal than I have ever wanted to.............by tea time I felt a little violated by copious sport and vomit....and quite wanted to vomit AT the copious sport...so I consoled myself with an entire 'Big Daddy box meal' and as I am neither big OR a Daddy I am now entirely made from KFC, so I'm out!

peace and love! ✌🏻️💛

Where the fuck is my fairy godmother at?

Do you ever think to yourself whilst you're feeling like dog shit from some bug or another but you're still getting up to your kid ALL night (up and down, up and down like a mother trucking yo-yo) coz let's be honest there's nobody else to pick up the slack! Or when you're trying to get your kids washed, fed, watered, dressed and packed ready for school on zero sleep (like you could actually audition for a part in a zombie movie minus the make up.) or whilst you managed a whole day on zero sleep and you're feeling like something the cat's dragged in (and by all accounts you've done a sterling job of not falling asleep standing up ALL day...not even once!) and your eyes are literally BEGGING to be closed (you've actually considered using matchsticks...however painful it looks) but you still have to make an dinner interesting that's wholesome enough to satisfy your family, help with homework, bath the kids, do the bedtime routine, iron uniforms, pack lunches, wash up...and feed the cat....and even though they are all individually little jobs... they at that moment feel like the equivalent of climbing mount  kilamanjaro...do you ever think to yourself; 'Where the FUCK is MY fairy godmother?! That little bitch is late....!'

knowing my luck...we get the fairy god mother we deserve...and mine is DRUNK in a skip somewhere.

https://www.facebook.com/watchmeslipwatchmecracra/

The epiphany

I'm not sure when the optimum time to have one is, but there seem to be a lot of people waiting until they're past the 30 mark to have them...some individuals are a little more evolved and have them younger I'm sure, and some are a little later and society likes to try and shoe horn them into the midlife crisis category! 'Have you seen Sheila has got a tattoo?!' Or 'Simon's bought a motorbike!' well she/he must be having a mid life crisis! I personally prefer the term epiphany.

I'm talking about the moment you wake up and think; Oh hold up! Stop! Excuse me how do I get off? Where's the emergency cord? Is there a little box with glass I should smash?! HELP! This is NOT my life! This is not the way it was supposed to go! I am not the person I imagined I'd be, whose is this house?! Whose are these things? I don't even like this top! Who the fuck chose this carpet?!

Until my epiphany I was one of life's plodders, I just let life lead the way, hell I didn't even LOOK where I was going! I constantly bumped into things! I'm pretty sure I was unconscious (obviously not literally) for the majority of my life, I made my decisions (big.....HUGE ones even!) at an extremely basic level....I never really engaged with myself properly to see if they were the right ones! I never asked MY opinion, I did things that felt good on a primal level (just call me cave girl) , or because I had to, or because I thought I should because other people expected me to, or because I thought that's what society expected of me; in short I made decisions like a toddler  (not even a very clever one at that, there are 2 year olds out there that are more self possessed than I was) but if you plod through just letting life happen to you like a blank canvas never owning your decisions then you'll never be happy...or even have the right to call yourself a person...

I personally woke one morning...actually I'm pretty sure I couldn't pin down and actual morning....it was a slower process than that....it was like this unsettled feeling started seeping in under the door one day and across the floor, soaked in through my shoes and my socks, through my clothes, and up my legs....until I completely absorbed the feeling of impending doom, took it on as personality trait wore it around like a really drab outfit (from OXFAM! If you're wondering; It was grey) I walked round wearing it for a bit...calling it depression when actually I think what it was an epiphany...just sitting there patiently whispering into my ear, but I just wasn't engaged enough to listen...I was plugged in...the lights were on but nobody was home.

The problem with letting life just happen to you/going through the motions/doing everything on auto pilot...(picture this: you're driving a train without properly thinking about it, you're not looking or even wearing a seat belt) is that you're letting it happen to other people too, everybody that's in any form of relationship with you (your passengers) is going to be effected by your inability to make a conscious decision and when you WAKE THE FUCK UP (or the train inevitabley crashes!) that's going to rock their world too. For me I woke up in a long term relationship where we were BOTH letting life happen to us, going along for the ride, we were just there for the popcorn, there for the show....in fact if anything we were both on self destruct making each other utterly bloody miserable! With children who deserved better, living in a house that made me feel shit (grey) , in a street that made me feel shit (grey), working in a job that made me feel shit! (Grey) So picture this; I wake up, the real me, little me, me before I let life sweep me away like some huge river or sea  (without even swimming or fighting against the tide) or something and I am in this huge woman's body....wrapped in clothes I wouldn't have chosen in a million trillion billion years surrounded by people/possessions I wouldn't have chosen coz frankly little me likes the sparkle...and I'm like 'WAIT! Hold the phone! Stop  the show! Time out! Can we get an intermission please?! This is NOT my body, these are not my clothes! This is not my LIFE! WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GLITTER PEOPLE?! Then I kicked my own (adult size...zombie) arse...ninja style...like a Jedi knight....I took myself down... like a baddie from kill bill...and put little me in back charge again.

Once I had sat back and taken stock I realised even in my unconscious state I'd done a pretty damn good job on my kids so far, at least asleep (zombie/walking dead) me had realised the importance of properly rearing children! Since that day though with little me in her rightful place in charge (and driving the train with her eyes WIDE open) it's like a grey cloud has been lifted, the world looks more colourful (and sparkly), I've remembered things (hobbies) I like to do, I make conscious
decisions and have stopped letting life happen to me!  I don't regret anything that happened when I wasn't really taking any notice (when I wasn't watching the road but instead gazing out of the window dreamily) because I wouldn't be me if  not for them...and regrets breed guilt and guilt breeds anxiety and frankly I just don't have the time plus...little me isn't having any of it as we're too busy doing WHAT THE FUCK WE WANT AND COVERING THE WORLD IN GLITTER.


*footnote; what a hippy prick I sound. Oh well! No fucks! ✌🏻️💛
https://www.facebook.com/watchmeslipwatchmecracra/

Old people LOOK so sweet.

So....I was sitting this morning in the garden of our local garden centre in the sunshine and this older gentleman with a cane and a newspaper comes out and sits down at another table, I look up and smile 'it's too nice to sit inside isn't it?' he says. Awww what a lovely old man I think to myself and return to my book 'Fucks sake.' I hear him mutter under his breath as he has an altercation with the wobbly table he's sitting down at. I have a bit of a giggle at that and continue reading. Before long his wife joins him with a tray of tea...she's forgotten something (napkins) so he goes up to get them, upon his return she calls 'Eric...Eric....you need sugar as well!' 'Fuck sake!' Eric mutters under his breath and off he goes to get them...by this time the tables out here are become quite full, Eric returns with his napkins and sugar and sits down to read his paper...whilst reading his paper Eric looks up to warn a lady that the table she's about to sit at is wobbly...smiles at children playing...seems all round really charming but then under his breath (well....more like a stage whisper) whilst looking at his paper he says 'errrrgh fucking disgusting!' 'What?' says his wife 'women with tattoos!' he says.....'oooooh yeah' she says 'disgusting!' he then proceeds to point out a (slightly tattooed) lady at another table and says 'like 'er over there! DISGUSTING!'

Haaaaaaa Eric; I have one thing to say to you Sir 'Nyeeeeeeeeear ya old git!'

My Facebook page

My Dad's bigger than your Dad. (The modern day version)

Oh my god! 😂😂 kids are so funny;

Walking up from dropping the boy at school this morning, and all these little kids are walking in, this little girl (who was about 5, 6 at the most) turns to her mate and goes, face completely deadpan 'I don't even like my Mum.' I wonder if her Mum knows! Wonder if the poor cow deserves that? Probably bought cornflakes instead of coco pops! Makes me wonder what mine say about me?!

I've been walking up the road since carrying on their conversation in my head;
 'I don't even like my mum'
'yeah?! Well...MY Nan's a bitch!'
'Yeah well MY mum calls my Dad a fat fuck under her breath when she thinks I'm not  listening!'
'Yeah...well MY Mum sniffs glue!'
'Yeah...well MY brother's got leprosy and his FACE fell off!'

Appropriately dressed

It's one of those mornings where I'm so tired, I'm silently congratulating myself (whilst looking down at my feet) for wearing matching shoes, walking down the road smoothing the back of my (hairy) cardigan over my bum purely to check if I have a sock/pair of knickers (a discarded coathanger/pet dog/small child) attached and hanging there for all to see where I grabbed it from the washing pile this morning and threw it on without checking....having got to where I'm going I'm checking I'm not sporting a toothpaste dribble on my chin or a bogey hanging from my nose (oh don't be disgusted nobody wakes up perfect!) in the mirror in the bathroom after having rushed out of the door running late. Now I'm sitting in public discreetly feeling for the label in the back of the neck of my top to check if it's the right way round. You'll be pleased to know all is as it should be (this time) but I feel I deserve a high 5.

My Facebook page

SpongeBob

Are you an emotional sponge? Do you find you absorb other people's negitivity; if somebody walks in the door in a foul mood can you feel their foul mood slowly seeping under your skin like an unwelcome illness, can you catch misery like it's a cold? Do you absorb other people's bad feeling and wear it as if it's your own like a borrowed coat? STOP IT!  You are NOT spongebob! That coat is NOT yours! It's not even NICE! It doesn't even suit you! My advice is to take a leaf out of our friend the hippy's book and avoid negitive people but if you can't skip away burning joss sticks muttering 'baaaad viiiibes maaaan' spongebob is NOT a good look on a grown arse woman...ALSO buy a new coat!

My Facebook page

Dear Internet

Dear Internet,

I'm shattered, I'm knackered, strung out, exhausted, done in, sleepy, fuzzy, stick a fork in me I'm DONE!!! But does the universe care? No. Everything that needs doing still has to be done. The uniforms aren't going to magically wash themselves (where's Molly Weasly when you need her?!) there are no cutely animated forest animals coming to help ME clean MY house and prepare our dinner (that bitch Snow White gets all the luck!) Super nanny is NOT coming to entertain MY kids (coz my kids say please and thank-you) and Mary poppins (the fucker) is NOT coming to run round after my poorly husband. TOUGH TITS! This here is reality sweetheart so I'm afraid it's time to 'grow some balls' 'suck it up buttercup!' 'put your big girl pants on!' drink a gallon of coffee....if only I could hook up some sort of drip system 'Get down off your horse and drink your milk' (yeah I never got it either) and get the fuck on with it!

My naked face and me

Today I decided to to go without make up, no I wasn't staying in, I've been out, in the world, and spoken to actual people, no they didn't flinch, gag, recoil in horror (well not that I saw) nobody ran away.

I woke up this morning and thought 'fuck it' I'm not doing it! I'm not caking my face in various products, I'm not filling wrinkles, covering spots, changing the colour of my skin, painting my lashes a different colour, making my cheeks rosey, I will not give my eyes wings, or paint my lips red. I'm going to go bare faced instead! (The cheek of it!) Coz at the risk of scaring the children/looking old/tired/ordinary THIS is my face! This is what I actually look like, I'm quite fond of it really, it's served me quite well, so today I rewarded it by taking it on an outing into the world in all of it's naked glory. My naked face and me.

Well it IS almost Halloween.

Mum minions

I could do with there being say...5 of me. Like Mum clones you know? Walking talking versions of myself that aren't capable of free thinking, so I can just use them as my minions, send them off on mum missions, so there is always enough of me to go around coz I'm feeling thinly spread, Imagine the possibilities! I'd be FREE to do things like SLEEP!!!! Or get PISSED whilst my minions were doing school runs, cleaning, attending various appointments with various dependants

This week has been a week of appointments, so far we've had the emergency Dr's, the hospital, the paediatrician, the orthodontists, the chiropodists, and the SENCO...(why can they not stagger some of the appointments over the 6 week holiday rather than trying to cram them all into the first week of school?!) I could quite happily go a good few months without seeing another professional....imagine if I never had to again! Imagine if I could just send a Mum minion and they could take minutes/summarise it for me, cut through all the waffle!

It feels like there are a hell of a lot more than just the five of us this week, perhaps there are! Perhaps someone in my house has already started the cloning without me! Perhaps I really DO have 500 kids!

Mr lonely

.

Do me a teeny weeny tiny absolutely minuscule almost insignificant it's so small favour please?

If you see a post and it makes you smile like the fucker pleeeeeeeeeease?

I can see that people read my blog and have people tell me personally when they see me; you really make me laugh or I look forward to readings your daily rants. Can we have a little more page interaction please?

I'm getting lonely here? 'Allllllll by maaaaaaaaasellllf!' and you DON'T want me to start singing honestly it's not pretty.

I sincerely promise not to banter you to death unless you ask nicely. Scouts honour.

Dementor Dementor!

We all know one; that mate, colleague, family member that whenever they visit you know when they leave you will feel like all the happiness has left the world. When they call you realise you've managed the entire conversation without really uttering a word about your day, whilst they've emotionally dumped their load on you. (Sorry, not sorry) THEY leave the meeting/conversation feeling better/like a weight has been lifted, whilst you're left wondering if you'll ever feel happiness again, like the life force has been sucked out of you, reaching for the chocolate.

Some people call them psychic vampires but I like to bow to the sheer genius that is J K Rowling and scream 'Dementor Dementor' and run for cover.

Dedicated to Ella

On the edge.

Do you ever seriously consider changing your name? Running away and not leaving a forwarding address? Get as far as bringing up eBay in the search engine when your kid has been whining for 3 hours solid? Worry that if someone else says 'Mum!' in the next 5 minutes your head might ACTUALLY explode, wish for a bout of a bug just bad enough to mean you don't have to leave bed for a week? Actually seriously consider boiling your own head?! No? Just me then.

Grease grease baby

I think I might be addicted to degreaser...anyone that used to work in a pub/restaurant knows the struggle...degreaser really is the go to cleaning product for all your household needs. Is it just me?! am I alone in my addiction, or if I were to start a support group would you come? Please mail me with any interest at:

Degreasers.anonymous@imananalbitch.com

#thestruggleisreal

Anal.

Before I met my husband I was a messy cow, actually I think that's an understatement I was anally expolsive (it's a thing ask Freud...god that dude had issues.) I couldn't have given a flying crap about organisation, I was late EVERYWHERE! I was always losing things, everything having a place could bite me. My paper work had a life of its own! The absolute worst thing in the entire world would for me would be if I was asked to find the last 3-6 months bank statements/payslips....I mean I WOULD find the fuckers....one in the fruit bowl...a few under the bed...one in my handbag...dog eared...and sodden.. from whatever had leaked in there! It got so bad I would panic if people threatened to come round and run round 'tidying' (moving things) just so my house would look like everyone else's version of super messy rather than something that probably should have been condemned!

Now I am the sort person that lectures their child on using the handle on the bathroom cabinet instead of leaving nasty finger prints on the glass...I am the sort of person that begrudges her family members using the toilet or making themselves food in the bathroom/kitchen I've just cleaned...(you'd have to worry if you family members were making food in the bathroom....but I'm safe in the knowledge that they COULD if the fancy took them...as long as they cleared up their fucking crumbs! 😂) I am the sort of person that owns a filing cabinet, I am the sort of person that has throw cushions on their bed, I am the sort of person that has a weekly menu, and takes far too much pleasure from crossing the meals out on my teapot shaped blackboard (blackboard wanker) in truth I seem to just have swopped one set of  neurosis for another and I'm STILL anal (although now Freud would refer to me as anally retentive...seriously?! Obsess much!?)

In conclusion I'm not sure which is better...either way I think I'm still ever so slightly cuckoo.

What?! What did YOU think this post was about?

Fuck you cheese grater fuck you

As it was hot out today I had tactically chosen to cook jacket potatoes with pulled pork or chilli  (defrosted leftovers) instead of standing in the boiling hot kitchen slaving over a hot stove, I was feeling rather smug about how easy this dinner was going to be to prepare until.....the microwave decided not to work...oh what a pisser....but I stuck the potatoes in the oven, yeah it takes longer but oh well....the pulled pork (according to my gorgeous husband) smelled funny...in the bin...I defrosted soup instead of chilli...in the bin...then I opened the fridge to discover there was no butter (no butter? I hear you cry? Go to the shop you lazy cow? Me and the boy are lactose intolerant so they don't just sell it at the corner shop/garage.) at this point my dearest darling angel baby teenager walks into the kitchen and announces she has to go to work in a bit....and she can't eat a jacket potato with no butter...beat her I hear you cry? I WAS tempted...but as beating your children is (quite rightly) frowned upon....I screamed 'it's not a hotel, you don't get to order off a menu' (you probably heard) then as the offending teenager was in her underwear getting ready for work and I couldn't very well send her to the shop and since I was lacking any other volunteers I went to the shop for butter (for the other non lactose intolerant jammy bastards whilst me and the boy made do with mayo) IN my house clothes (you know the ones I mean...clothes you only wear indoors....clothes that are not suitable for public consumption..clothes that you maybe (probably) shouldn't still be wearing.....in this case the teeny tiniest pair of jean shorts and a cropped slash front tee shirt...you know the ones that are longer on one side than the other...😬) I'd like to publicly apologise to anyone...including the poor shop keeper...that had to see that .....then upon my return the mother fucking cheese grater went missing....fuck you cheese grater! Fuck you....