Sunday, December 28, 2014


MEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR (that's supposed to resemble a foghorn) IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT, IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT... you have two weeks left to submit your child's school application.

Fuck. How did we get here?

Before I even needed to think about schools for my daughter, I said to my husband "I won't be one of these psycho mums who moves house just to get into the best school, I won't frantically read through ofsted reports everyday in the run up to the deadline, I won't turn crazy... I won't" PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I got crazy.

There are two schools I'd be happy for her to go to. And another that I would love for her to go to. One of these we haven't viewed and I KNOW, you're all like WHAT THE FUCK?! I know. Thing is, we don't live anywhere near these schools and because I've been changing my mind every twelve seconds about when we are going move to the area the schools are in, I've kinda messed up and left us zero time to view the one we haven't seen yet. It's not the end of the world, I know. It's a great school (according to their website) and I got a good feeling from their website and I KNOW that's not the same as us viewing it and getting the same feeling but like I said, I messed up.

Anyway... I said I wouldn't get crazy. Every time I try to talk to my husband about it, he glazes over which is a great help. I think he's tired of neurotic mum who is now obsessed by this whole process (I've even read up about the role of parent governors, brainstormed ideas for the PTA fundraising events and planned what talks I'll do in the school... see... CUCKOO). I've befriended (kind of) the head of one school and can see us sitting down for coffee in her office and her asking me to come in and teach art. So basically I work there now. In my head.

It isn't just me, is it? Oh god, it is.

I want to be relaxed about the whole thing but I just have the most awful memories of school. I hated it. And I really don't want that for her. I'm sure it won't be the same (providing we get one of our three choices, which I'm pretty sure we will... OH GOD DID I JINX IT?), it's just hard. Nursery turned out to be such a traumatic time for her (she's still getting over it) and it's scarred me.

But there are always cash bribes, right?!

Cuckoo, cuckoo.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

A Post About The New Year

Because it's standard.

This past year has been a lot shit and a bit good. I'm still alive and so is my child so obviously I'm doing something right. I feel blessed, that much is true.

I won't bore you with the shit that went down this year, go read my other (old) blog for that, plus... it's history. I don't want to dwell on all the bad stuff. As the New Year approaches I've been thinking about the things I'd like to achieve as I am hurtling towards 30 (yes, I'm still a baby, blah blah blah). Everything is magnified, every decision, every thought (although that could well be down to my exhausting anxiety that just keeps coming back and punching me in the face to remind me that it's there). I have some MAJOR life decisions to make (that's right, M A J O R) as well as changes and the usual crap we promise ourselves just before the clock strikes 1st January (gym, diet, etc).

Where am I going with this post? Er... ah! I read something someone shared on Facebook - 15 ways to be happier in 2015 and something stood out so hard, I didn't actually need to put my glasses on to read it (I have major 'scowl' lines as my husband calls them, I beg to differ... they are actually SQUINT lines mother fucker) and it went something like this:


And I'm mighty good at that, making excuses. I'm lame, I have all the excuses. But especially good ones for not doing what I've always wanted to do. And at the start of a year I promise myself the same thing... Stop worrying about upsetting other people with the decisions you make, be more selfish, do what you want to do... all of that baloney. Except baloney it ain't because at the end of that year I kick myself for having made a hundred excuses for not doing what I said I wanted to do.

So, CHARLOTTE, just fucking do it (soz, Nike). Do that thing you've been droning on about for so long, just cut the crap and do it.

You too though, yeah?

The anxious little prick that sits on my left shoulder is telling me not to post this because I'll die in my sleep tonight or at least die before the start of the New Year. "But don't leave it in your drafts either because you'll die and someone will find it and it'll be such a waste". What a horrible little shit. A small peak inside my deranged mind right there - don't say I never treat you.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014


MAD LIFE sounds about right for 'Mum & Dad life', also an events and communication company set up by megababe mums Kirsti and Emi. They bring all the good shizz to the table for busy parents in the form of events, campaigns and digital communications.

They've also just made their first short film about becoming a parent, but an honest version. No rose-tinting, no bullshit. Because this is what these ladies are about.


For more information about MAD LIFE and to find out about any upcoming events go check them out here.

Monday, December 8, 2014

Musings on mum flu

Before Child, I was unbreakable. I would go to work even if I was dying (either from flu or a hangover, mainly because it meant if I didn't I'd miss out on boozing that night) and just bloody well got on with it (with the occasional whine). Once, after a four hour drinking binge at my works Christmas party and an hour solid on the bumper cars (woo - NAMCO!), I woke up the next day unable to move. A trip to A&E and a HUGE lecture later, I was told I had whiplash. But even that didn't stop me, I was back on it the next day. What a warrior!

These days, a standard cold wipes me out (let alone a hangover). What is it about having a child that means you can't even go about your day with a bloody snotty nose? It isn't just me, is it? I know it isn't.

If you didn't already know, I have mum flu. While it isn't an actual thing, it bloody well should be. I ache, my sinuses are raging, my nose running, I can't stop sneezing and my throat hurts. A pretty standard cold but made a billion times worse because I'm a mum. I can hardly find the energy to do the washing up let alone go to work (I don't have a job) or look after my child (ipad and crisps for her). WHY? I used to rock the shit out of a cold. Today I look a cross between Uncle Fester and Rudolph. WHY?!

Has having a baby really shot my immune system to shit? Almost four years on? Really?

This bout of mum flu has, however, made me realise just how much I take things for granted. How lucky I really am. Take the shower, for example. Hot, running water. A ten minute shower, just standing there for ten whole minutes (I know, it's bad... but I'M ILL) is bliss. I'm SO grateful for that luxury. And for having a husband who doesn't mind getting up with my early riser and keeping her quiet so I can sleep in until ELEVEN AM. I needed that, clearly, although I felt no better for it. But THANK YOU! And cups of tea, strong and sugary. I'm so grateful for you. And my bed, soft and bouncy. And so warm and cosy. There are people who don't have any of that. I am so grateful. These are the simplest of luxuries that we all take for granted every day. We moan when that bag we've been lusting after is out of stock or when the tube is over-crowded. But really, we have it so fucking good.

Think about it next time you have a moan. Think about all the things that are normal to you but to others are alien. And then be grateful.