10 things Motherhood has taught me

I am in complete and utter denial that in less than a week, Thing 1 turns into an official teenager. As opposed to the hideous ogre who’s been living with us since he started Year 7. He will be 13 years old.

Shut the front door. He can’t be. No way. I don’t want to believe it.

Let me share with you some wisdom I have learnt over the last thirteen years.  You’re welcome.

1} Things don’t always work out as planned. And that’s ok. For example,  I had every intention of demanding asking for an epidural. It was in my pregnancy notes. I had spoken at length with the Acute Pain Service Specialist Nurse, whilst at work ensuring this was what I definitely wanted. I ended up delivering with just paracetamol. That’s impressive, non?! And that isn’t to make you feel bad because you wanted a natural child birth and ended up having an epidural.  The most important job is to get you both home safely, and if the goal posts have to move to allow this, then that’s just fine.

2} Breast or Bottle fed babies both grow up into healthy adults. I ‘tried’ to breast feed Thing 1 for 3 whole days and nights. And then my milk ‘came in’, and it hurt. A lot. Whilst hanging over the bath, with my udders knockers going at it like a pair of out of control garden hoses, I made the decision I couldn’t do it anymore.  See point 1. Consequently, Thing 2 never even got a glimpse of my boobs.

3} There is such a thing as a judgemental mother. She survives on pure competition and gloats about everything she’s doing that you’re not. See point 2. You may meet her in baby groups, or the school playground. She’s a Bitch.

4} There are non-bitch mothers. I am so lucky to be best friends with a ‘mother’ I met when our eldest boys were 4 weeks old. We went to post natal class and baby massage back then. Now we don our heels and skinny jeans and rock up for a night of pinot. Our boys had a joint 10th birthday disco party. We had a champagne lunch to celebrate our 10 years of friendship. If you find a mummy friend like this, hold on to her : )

5} Children get sick during the night. Because, heck, they just do. And will.

6} Cliches are true
EVERYBODY wants to pass on ‘their’ wisdom to you *coughs- obviously not me!* You may nod in agreement, but are probably screaming NO, NEVER, Not on your nelly in your head. But, sometimes ‘they’re’ right.

Examples are;

*Time flies
*They do grow up too quick
*Kids say the funniest things

7} Avoid the colour white. On you and the kids. Towels and bedding. Walls. Everything.
This is too obvious, really. I wore it on my a Wedding day, not realising that was probably going to be the last time.

8} You will get used to drinking cold tea and coffee. You may actually start to enjoy it.

9} You will turn into your parents. You will have to give up your evenings and weekends to drive the kids around. You will threaten to send them to bed without dinner {but won’t, because you’ve spent hours preparing it ; ) } and you will threaten to turn the car around whilst on the outward journey {but won’t because it means you will miss out on a fun day too}.

10} A main meal can be substituted with cereal. Sometimes, you’ve had a huge lunch, have been out all day or quite simply, just can’t be arsed to cook. And on these occasions, cereal for dinner is perfectly acceptable.

Am I doing it right?
I have NO idea. The Things are happy.
That’s good enough for me!

What would you add to this list?



Where Manners Are Discussed

Thing 1 is growing up. I’ve known this for a while now.  He is turning into a TEENAGER.  He stinks.  His voice is breaking {which is taking forever}.  And, he grunts and shouts.  At  us, his parents!  In turn, Mr 29 and I are screaming and shouting back at him.  What feels like every day.

He assumes he will get whatever he wants, without so much as a Please or Thank You.

Woah, there Dude.

Back.  The.  Fuck. Up.

And enter the ‘Manners Police’.

That’s me.


I’m a little hung up on manners.  Mr 29 says I’m uptight.  The Things say I nag them.  You see, I’m partial to a please, thank you and pardon.   Do not say ‘WHAT’ to me.

You can clearly see the irony here, non? I insist that The Things are polite, and yet I scream blue bloody murder at them If their manners don’t make the grade.

The words pot, kettle and black spring to mind here.  Yes, Mr 29, I am working on this, dear.

As much as I focus on Thing 1’s manners, constantly worrying about what people may think about him, it’s always amazing to receive positive recognition.  As though I’ve passed a test.  Kind of.

Just the other night, we met friends for a drink.

“We saw Thing 1, earlier on today, riding his bike.  He is so polite. When he rode off he wished us a nice day”

Dang.  Relief washed over me.  That boy.

Perhaps my nagging is the right route, after all.  Maybe.


When Boys play with Balls

When we found out I was having a boy, while pregnant with Thing 1, I told Mr 29 he would have to have conversations about ‘the birds and the bees’ with him. I said I would chat with our girls.


Of course, both of these never materialised.  I gave ‘the talk’, and no daughters arrived.

Thing 1 discovered ‘down there’ very early on.  Every time he had a nappy change he would ‘cop a feel’ of his Crown Jewels.


A three and a half year old Thing 1 once asked Mr 29 why he had hair around his willy. Mr 29 replied “To keep it warm when you’re older”!

Really?! You see what I have to content with?!

Back in November,  Thing 1, who will be 13 {I have no idea how this has happened!} in June, was educated about the very important subject of testicular cancer at school. I have to admit I had not had this particular discussion with him.

Testicular cancer affects younger men between the ages of 15-44.  The most common symptom is a painless lump or swelling in the testicles. NHS UK.

Thing 1 did not tell me about this talk.  I read it on the news letter.  I didn’t think too much about it.  Until, I thought there may be an issue.

How did I know there was a problem? He took longer in the toilet.  He seemed quieter.  He appeared anxious.  He is neither of the latter.

He explained he could feel lumps in his groin. I asked if he wanted Dad or me to look.  He said “you’re the nurse, you should”.  I replied, “Are you sure, Dad knows about these things?!”.  I felt glands, told him not to worry and not to look for anything for another month.  Obviously, Thing 1 didn’t listen to me.  Nothing new there.  But then he ‘googled’ {any of you reading this, who work in the health profession, I did just hear you  say “Oh No!”} ‘lumps in groin’ and he became anxious.

FYI:  If you do decide to  ‘google’ the words “lump in groin male” you will be overwhelmed with a huge amount of information on lymphoma.

Poor Thing 1, it didn’t matter how many times I reassured him and told him he was fine.  He couldn’t hear me.  Even though I {may have} shouted at him that he was fine.

I made an appointment with our GP.

Our GP was amazing.  He confirmed Thing 1 was OK.  Hooray! {Not that I’m one to say I told you so}.  He praised Thing 1 for being knowledgable, alert and for not being embarrassed about going to see him.  He was.  Mr 29 bribed him with new boxing equipment, but I kept quiet and nodded in agreement.

Thing 1 now knows how to check his ‘bits’, that he must do it once a month and to tell us if he has a worry.  Not to sit fretting on his own.

Geez, Louise, this motherhood lark don’t get any easier!


Pictures via Pinterest

An evening with Sons

Week night evenings are ‘owned’ by The Things.  Would being a Mama to girls be more fun?


Put your football kit in the washing basket

Your hand wraps are in the tumble dryer {Said at least 3 times.  Having been asked where are they at least 5 times}

Have  you banged the mud off your studs? {Too late, you have walked into the house}

Clean your mouth piece/ mouth guard {I have no idea what it’s called- I didn’t wear one when playing netball}

Move these shin pads

Get in the shower {you stink, seriously}

When contemplating the 8 car journeys in two days to the club house “You don’t have to go today, if YOU don’t want to…”

STOP eating! {No really, STOP}

I relish Wednesday evenings.  Club free night.  Bliss.