The Parent Trap


Oops. Here I am writing about my kid again. Sorry not sorry. I really didn’t want this to be like a “mum blog” Now don’t get me wrong there’s absolutely nothing wrong with them and if anything it seems to be quite “on trend” at the minute to have a big old bitch about how shit it is being a parent 👀 *pours saucer of milk for ones self, miaow*  All jokes aside it really can be shitty & I think it massively helps how open we all are about it now. It makes things easier knowing you’re absolutely not the only one who has days when they literally hate their life Any way as I was saying…firstly I don’t think I’m in any position to blog about parenting I’m winging it myself so zilch chance of me guiding others and secondly I did want to focus on politics. It’s just at the moment thinking about the state of politics makes me want to ram my head repeatability into a wall. Sooooo here I am after my last post, talking about my kid again. Which leads me on to thinking we all swear when:if we have kids we will be the different ones. We all probably hardcore eyeroll at parents from our smug world of  the freedom that is being a non parent but here’s the thing, all that stuff you swear you won’t do? You will do it. You will do it times a billion and then you will do a whole load of other shit, that you didn’t understand until the exact moment you are handed a human being that depends entirely on you. (When it feels like only yesterday the only thing dependable about yourself was waking up every Sunday with a hangover of epic proportions) so today’s post is exactly that. If it was a buzz feed article I guess it would be called 10 things you swore you wouldn’t do as a mom (yet here you are doing them) 


Baby spam. If you know me you know I’m so guilty of this I’m genuinely shocked people still remain my Facebook friend. (You’ve all unfollowed instead probs so thanks for thinking of my feelings) So sorry for every time I moaned about people always posting pics of their kids. I get it now you literally have nothing else to take pictures of.


Having 90% of all conversations based around your off spring. I get that now too. You literally have nothing else to talk about. (Because they take over your WHOLE LIFE)

A strange obsession with bowel movements. Honestly I think I talk about poo at least once day. This never happened Pre parenthood. Dunno what it is but you have a kid and you just talk shit. Literally. 

 As much as you can’t stand it when you’re on the receiving end you will judge other parents. Any one who denies this is a big fat liar 😏 It doesn’t mean you’re actually any better or worse it’s just the natural reaction to the fact that parenting is not a one size fits all topic. Visit any Mumsnet thread for futurer confirmation of this 😬🙄

Further to above everyone will suddenly have an opinion (or five) to share with you whether you asked for it not. Just practice this face 😊😊😊


Birth stories are badges of pride. The bigger the better. Always best shared with someone in the final trimester of their first pregnancy, trust me they will love to hear it. “Yep so they just cut me open with what can only be described as gardening shears, whilst I wailed like a wild rhino then shit myself”  (ffs see! Poo talk)

If you don’t get the above then you get the other end of the scale. The birth queens. “Drugs, oh no. I got through it with a warm flannel on my forehead and a packet of Werther’s original for pain relief whilst listening to the soothing sounds of pan pipes. Took 8 minutes.” 


Chocolate button bribery. You start off all organic and shit but you try to get through a food shop on just an hours sleep, in a busy Aldi on Monday whilst your child is trying to throw themselves head first out of the trolley seat because you won’t let them eat a packet of raw bacon, and you think you’re going to appease them with a carrot stick organically grown in Wiltshire. Yeah good luck with that. 
Parent blogs, parent memes, parent banter all becomes really funny. So funny that you’re hysterically laughing at them at 3 am whilst doing the nightfeed. God bless you Mum Probs and Hurrah for Gin (Personal faves, other parenting blogs available just not even half as funny) 

Germs. For a good while you will fear them. Your house will be something akin to the bio hazard rooms set up in an episode of 24. You no longer have finger prints as they have been filled in my by layer upon layer of hand gel. You lay awake at night wondering about that 0.01% of germs your anti bac wipes can’t kill. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to request that all visiters must wash their hands (twice) before holding child. I honestly can’t pinpoint what happens but almost over night your watching your child eat an Ella’s kitchen fruit puff,they’ve discovered under the sofa whilst muttering something about it being good for their immune system. It’s one of life’s little mysteries for sure. 

The lack of Handbooks. No they don’t leave you with an instruction manual to take home when you leave the maternity ward. Trust me I’m as shocked as you are about that. You literally have no idea what the rules are and they are just send you off on your way with this baby thing. I mean even Pets At Home give you a fact sheet when you buy a guineapig for Christ sake. 


(Image Hurrah for Gin) 

You not only suddenly understand why there is a need for parent & toddler spaces but you become the parent & toddler space  police.  “Nice kid you’ve got there” as you death stare the childless arsehole in the BMW who’s nicked the last p&t spot whilst you have to apply advanced physics undo a car seat, remove, child, change bag, buggy, child and yourself out of a space the size of a postage stamp. 

Talking of physics you will probably need a degree in that and building science after having a child. Because you will now be the owner of at least 20 pieces of apparatus that not only do you have to set up in the first place but then have a krypton factor challenge of pullies, straps and levers you have to complete EVERY TIME YOU USE THEM.

“Oh we will only have wooden/classic toys.” Ha ha ha ha ha. I guarantee your living room will have more gaudy coloured plastic it in than your local recycling plant faster than you say Iggle Piggle. 


Trust me we might all swear we won’t ever plonk our kids in front the tv but if you want to drink a whole cup of tea whilst it’s still warm then you wanna be praising the Lord for CBeebies. Plus sometimes Tom Hardy reads stories on there and we deserve that. 


Baby on board signs in cars. I used to see this and just think wanker. Now I am that wanker because I’ve realised it might be useful to explain to people why I’m driving like a learner on a Sunday afternoon. Plus I read it makes the emergency services aware you have a baby in the vehicle if you have an accident and obviously that’s now scared the bejesus into me so much that I’ve displayed my little yellow diamond with pride. 

You will suddenly discover the 234 other uses for baby wipes. 

If you’re a couple you will argue about anything from night feeds to the number of vests your kids should have on. Some days you’ll literally despise the sight of each other. That’s ok. Because you ask any one else and they will admit the same happens to them. You’re tired, stressed and anxious it’s human nature to take it out on the ones close to you and you do love each other really. 


Continue to refer to yourself as mummy or daddy hours after the kid’s in bed. Or in public. When you haven’t even got a kid with you. 
You’ll have all these grand plans for the baby clubs, trips and hobbies you’ll get up to. I class a triumph these days as being washed & dressed by 12pm. 

A star fishing kid taking up all the space in your king size bed will happen. No matter how much you swear it never will. 

Obviously some people are sensitive to things they read, watch and hear (I cry at anything involving dogs without fail) but honestly I can’t even cope with situations now involving harm or upset to children. It’s just too close to home. I’m sure I wasn’t dead inside before the small one was born, but I could manage the VTs on comic relief with a few tears. Now I have to turn it over. Because I can’t cope with the idea of being in that position myself. How very lucky I am to not be in the situation so many mothers face in some other counties.
BEDTIME FEAR IS REAL.


Any sense of prudishness or self consciousness when it comes to your body/self will be ERIDCATED. There is nothing dignifying about a stretch and sweep or nearly drowning your midwife when she breaks your waters. Honestly you don’t have the time to be embarrassed and from what I’ve heard it’s pretty bloody tricky to give birth if your going to insist on hiding all your lady bits behind the sheets. One day I will disclose the full unedited story of my childbirth experience and that will fully explain this part. Let’s just say it involved me waving the gas an air about like it was a cigarette, whilst discussing the types of pornography the Tories banned, in a room full of people that included my mother. WOW. 😂

Being in absolute awe of every day actions you wouldn’t bat an eye lid at before. Laughing. Eating. Walking. Putting bricks on top on each other. Incredible. You will record every second of it it.

Your phone will forever be at maximum storage level. 🙄

A sudden frightening awareness of your own mortality. For some this might be fleeting for others it really causes serious anxiety and upset. All I can say is you are not alone and this is very very common. I wrote a post a while ago on Post Natal Anxiety. It’s very real and very scary but there’s help out there so don’t suffer alone.

Fact is, everyone has the best intentions and ideas. Nothing wrong with that. Also nothing wrong in knowing that when your life literally completely turns upside down you’re allowed to just quietly forget all those things you swore you’d never do for the sake of 5 minutes of peace. It’s ok no ones judging you 👀😏 sod it. 

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