Merry Christmas

                         Merry Bloody Christmas

Wondering Why The Hell We Became A Mum
(sung to walking in a winter wonderland)

The children cry, or they're whinging
All day long,
I'm no longer listening
We'll sing them a song
But they'll carry on,
Wondering why the hell we became a Mum.

You'll drink wine, and be ok
Tell yourself,
Take deep breaths today,
Plaster on a big smile,
But want to run a mile,
Wondering why the hell we became a Mum.

Then there'll be the times they make us smile,
Like seeing they're faces light up Christmas day,
We'll say 'Are you happy?'
They'll say 'no Mum..
It's 2'oclock it's time for my tantrum'

Then comes along, the bedtime,
Where they insist,
That they're fine,
You shout go to bed,
While Screaming in your head,
Wondering why the hell we became a Mum.

Hoping you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! I'm so excited to see O's face on his first Christmas that he will nearly understand!

Hide and never find.

O's new thing is hiding EVERYTHING. The remote, my hairbursh, his toothbrush.. anything the little bugger can get his hands on. But my question is, how do they hide things so well? I can't even hide a chocolate bar from my partner (or myself in that matter) yet a 1 year old can hide it to never be seen again.     I have found dummys outside for crying out loud!

Just the other day he hid the remote and we looked for it for over 4 hours. FOUR F*CKING HOURS. In the end I gave up and went to do the hoovering, found the remote wedged between the hoover pipe and the actual hoover. Hallelujah. Next night the little shit decides the remote could do with a dip in his dads cup of tea. We now have no tv.

I couldn't brush my hair for 2 days because I couldn't find my hair brush then out of nowhere he appears with it doing what he classes as brushing his hair. Two days when you have long hair is like not brushing it for a month. Knot central.

His other frustrating habit is dropping stuff down the toilet or in the bloody cat litter. So far this includes dummys, half a sandwich, toilet roll, sippy cup and a number of toys. He is now banned from the kitchen and bathroom (Luckily the bathroom is split into 2 rooms for the toilet and bath so don't worry he's still allowed a bath).

Safe to say, this week he belonged in the baby bin.

'Tis The Season

Is December really the season to be jolly? I mean yes I'm super excited to see O's face on christmas morning opening his presents, even if he won't have a clue what's going on.

But (and there's always a but) it feels like there's so much pressure to do everything 'right' and standards these days are much higher than when I was a child. Just the other day I bought all the stuff to make christmas cards which have the space to insert printed photo's of O for all the family to keep, I needed 11 and obviously they only done them in packs of 10 but still I stretched my pennies and bought two lots, come to make them and one pack has dissapeared (I will probably find them in some crazy place in June thanks to O) not only that but I forgot about the fact I have to get the prints too so I'm now praying they arrive on time. If not well its cheap cards out a pack.

I got all festive putting the christmas tree up with the presents that we had been given so far underneath (I was called brave for doing so now I realise I'm just plain stupid), half of them are now ripped open again thanks to O.

We went to see Santa and were stuck queing behind a lady with her angelic George who was running around trying to pull the heads off every polar bear and penguin to which she went on to shout and scream at him. Well done George bloody William. On a positive O didn't cry at Santa which was a bonus bless him.

Putting the Disney christmas cd on and listening to mickey mouse and gang sing songs for O to just sit there looking a me as if to say 'Mum what is this crap' then as I change cd the rock music radio station comes on and he instantanously start headbanging. (That's my boy!)

There are of course some bonuses like getting a full toy kitchen set with working lights for £4.99 instead of £60 because the shop had coded it wrong at the till. (Don't worry it was a big chain store who rakes in millions yearly, I don't need to feel too guilty).

So far this year 95% of festive attempts made by me have failed but is this because I expect them to be perfect because of everything we read and hear? Do home made cards and perfectly wrapped presents really matter? I have decided as long as we have pigs in blankets on our christmas dinner plate and a glass of wine, I'm bloody happy.

A Childs Mind

Today I sat down and observed O for about half an hour and tried to imagine what was going through his head. I wrote a list of my guessing and this was the result:

Oooh cat! Chase chase chase!.. Oooh shiney stuff, maybe if I pretend to point mum wont realise I'm pulling this thing she calls the christmas tree down. ...Oh. Nope. She noticed. Cry cry cry, No is a horrible word and I must make this clear. ...Whats this, I must also point to this and put my finger in it. My fingers stuck! Cry Cry Mummm Mummm CRYYY! ....Oooh chocolate button. ....Ooo my rocking horse, I must ride on it backwards while standing on it!.... Now I must run around the toy I just placed down. ....Poop. NO MUM DON'T CHANGE MY NAPPY.... Oooo chocolate button. ....Ohh the big screen that plays colourful stuff! Dance Dance Dance...Glance at Mummy to see if she's looking. She is. Mummy Cuddles!!... I'm going to climb under the table and chairs. I'm stuck! Cry Cry Cry! Mummy saved me...I think toys are for me to throw around. Giggle giggle giggle. Oooh shiney stuff!! *tree falls down*

He was forced to have a nap after this. When you get 10mins sit and try and work out your childs thoughts. It can be quite amusing until they pull down the christmas tree.

Oooh Cat!

10 rules of being a mother.

These are the rules I have picked up so far in the year of being a Mum:

1. You will never have a full nights sleep again for at least 7 years, Even when grandma baby sits you will wake up convinced someone was crying or calling for you.

2. Everyone but you knows what best for your child. Face it, They've parented their own shithead already. They are masters.

3. You will never eat anything to yourself again. Children have dog's noses, they can smell that chocolate bar from upstairs. You can try hiding in the kitchen but don't think you're safe. Nor will you have a whole hot drink.

4. No-one elses child ever has tantrums when out and about. So when you're in the supermarket and child is screaming expect everyone to look at you in surprise and disgust as they have NEVER seen a crying child before.

5. You will never completely empty your washing basket of dirty clothes. Don't even hope.

6. You will say things you used to laugh at your own mother saying. 'Get away from the t.v, you'll get square eyes' or 'My names not Mum anymore'.

7. You will do the weirdest, ninja style side stepping out of the room your sleeping child is in and you will perfect missing the creaky floorboard.

8. It's all a big competiton. Who buys the most presents, who breastfeeds and who doesn't, who child eats the most vegetables. No matter how good your child is, there will always be one better.

9. Your child will poop whenever you don't take the changing bag. ALWAYS TAKE THE CHANGING BAG.

10. Your child has more of a social life than you do.

Moral of this post? Don't worry and just be happy you have your own little shithead. Why compare who is better? You've kept them alive this long!

Getting out the front door

As some all of you know getting out the house with a toddler or even just a baby is bloody effort. I realised today that in 2 weeks I have been late to EVERY appointment. Missed 4 buses. And even turned back half way to baby group as I would have been there a whole 15 minutes maximum. I was going to take O to the park as it was a lovely day, then I looked at the time and realised by the time I had got out the door it would be the school hour with all the older shitheads coming out of school. We will go tomorrow. Maybe.

So the routine of getting out the front door goes a bit like this, this was my exact situation the other day:
- Get O changed out of his first lot of clothes for the day as he's bound to have something on there, 50/50 food or bodily fluids.
- Wrestle his nappy and change of clothes on.
- Spend half hour looking for his other shoe.
- In which time he's probably pooped again. Another nappy change.
- Put in the pram and insist the blanket he keeps kicking off a 1000 times is there for a bloody reason.
- Insist the same about the footmuff. 9 times out of 10 ditch the footmuff.
- Bribe with some type of food. Usually the unhealthy kind.
- Dash upstairs for a pee because well, you never know.
- Think I have done it and push the pram out.
- Remember I've forgot the changing bag. Then that I've left the tippy cup on the side and his lunch.
- Pee again.
- Get out of there now!
- 3 metres up the road wonder if I locked up. Go back and check. Yes I did.
- Half way to the bus stop, realise O does not have a dummy. Run back as fast as my fat legs will take me.
- Rush to bus stop. As I'm nearing it the bus goes past.
- I give up trying.

And you know what? I ALWAYS end up forgetting something!

Moral of this post. You will never be on time with a child. If you don't have a child (I don't know why you're reading this) but don't bother, stick with your cat. Become a crazy cat lady. They don't need nappies or make you need to pee twice before leaving the house.

Its a stay in bed kind of day.