Great fun mum shit!

I am THAT mum that looks at other mums doing great fun shit with their kids, and then wants to be THAT mum, but today I was reminded why I don’t do ‘great fun mum shit!’

Smiley has been asking to ride her rollerskates further than the fringes of our estate for weeks and ‘E’ has been asking to ride her bike without her ‘tablerisers’ on, for equally the same time.

What with lockdown 3.0 and the fact I actually fucking caught COVID (which I may well write another blog about while I sit here with no smell or taste weeks after the initial infection and wake every morning with a phenomenal headache and stiffer than … my husbands ‘morning wood’! Covid is no joke!) The long and short of it is: even with all the time I have had, there just hasn’t been the time.

Wheels at the ready, today’s the day. I am all mumsy, snacked up and back-packed up. Owning #mumlife but not owning #doglife because before we have even left the estate, I have trod on the dogs about three times, they are not used to being on a lead so they spend most of their time tripping me up and circling my legs which either ends with me on my arse or them trod on and yelping, very loudly! Cavapoos are notorious wimps!

Smiley is just about managing to stay up on the newly tarmacked road and I am actually quite impressed. Its not graceful by any means and if it wasn’t for the skates, she kind of looks like she’s doing a REALLY … really really bad attempt of the ‘watch me Whip, watch me Nae Nae’ dance and just like that the song lyrics are embedded firmly into my in my head and I am now mum rapping to ‘Now watch me whip, Now watch me nae nae, Now watch me whip, whip, Watch me nae nae’ … and there are plenty of whips and high-pitched squeals from Smiley to keep me fully entertained.

Meanwhile ‘E’ has got off her bike, the bike she soooo wanted to ride which is still intact with ‘tablerisers’ and she is now walking next to it like it’s a little pony being led down and out of the estate. “It goes too fast downhill” she says looking quite deflated. I introduce her to this miraculous mechanism … called a brake! She gets back on, multi coloured helmet, with her name wrote in a black sharpie across the back, mustard suede biker jacket, black and white striped summer dress, unicorn leggings, Santa socks and black paignton school shoes. Yep. She looks like someone has thrown her up. After a collision with a wall, she continues to walk her bike like a fucking pony.

Smileys on a roll, literally, yelling “watch me, watch me,” to which I immediately yell back with “Do the stanky leg (stank) Do the stanky leg (stank stank), I laugh at myself and my immaturity, she turns and glares a medusa style stare at me and promptly lands impressively hard on her arse. I can’t help but laugh and carry on with my song “Now, break your legs (break em) Break your legs (break em), doing my ‘coolest mum rapper’ impression. She cries and I feel instantly bad so I do what I hope every mother does and uses sugary bribes as my leverage to keep her moving in the right direction.

Fuelled with sugar, they both appear to have sped up a little… until the hill of doom. ‘E’ is off the bike refusing to go any further without me pushing her, Smiley is in full bafta mode.

Dragging one child behind me, whilst pushing one in front of me we begin the climb…

The dogs are shaking in fear of their lives being abruptly ended by rollerskates or the pony-bike, both of which are being propelled forward in short bursts of high speed with every push and pull I give. But… it appears my frustration gets the better of me and I push a little too hard and in completely the wrong place. When I say wrong place, I mean, I literally pushed the poor child full pelt, Marvel super hero style, off her bike. She flew. Took off almost. If it wasn’t such a pathetic accident it would be labelled as abuse. She wails, holding her elbow for dramatic effect “I hate my bike so much, this is the worsest day ever”

Not sure we will do that again. My ‘great fun mum shit’ ended with me familarising the defeated duo to ‘Silento’, and dancing in the kitchen to ‘Watch me (whip / Nae Nae)’ on Alexa and eating sugar and E numbers…

Guess we can all be great at something: but we aren’t great at everything.

Get your ‘Nae Nae on here‘

Lifers, Buddies and Aquaintances

I class myself as a genuine friend. There are all types of friend categories. You have your Lifers, your Buddies and your Acquaintances.

You will naturally gravitate towards different friends for different reasons and you don’t have to speak everyday or live in each others pocket to qualify to be a genuine friend. I have thought a lot lately about my friends and I want them to  know that I vow to be with you through all times, the good, the bad and the ugly.

WHEN ITS GOOD I will laugh with you so hard that tears of laughter run down our legs and we snort like water hogs. We will chuckle and reminisce over childhood memories like how cool we looked in our ‘shell suits’ while singing along to our walk-mans. We will laugh at all the ‘remember when we did’ moments. I will hold back your hair when your sick after too many shots and I promise not tell anyone when you accidentally poop in the street when doing a wild wee after a messy session (Sorry). I will wear socks with sandals if it’s what you need to make you smile. I will promise to always give you my honest opinion even if it’s not what you want to hear, but I will always; I mean always have your back. Your happy moments are my happy moments.

WHEN ITS BAD and times fall hard I will be your shoulder to cry on, and the face to shout at because you need to rant about your mother-in-law or husbands lack of hygiene and complete inability to ‘find’, let alone load the washing machine. When you are skint and your contemplating selling your soul to the devil or Bling McDaddy I’ll lend you a tenner, not because that’s all your worth but that’s normally all I have spare. I’ll shout you lunch and we will share a pudding because a tenner doesn’t go far and life is always better when our ‘stretch marked’ bellies are full of comfort food and sloshing with wine. Your sad moments are my sad moments.

IF ITS EVER UGLY, in those moments of darkness I promise to just listen and hold you near because I don’t have the answers to take away the pain but I can lend you and ear and tell you ‘I will always be here’! When you’re at your lowest ebb I won’t let you give up. Humour is my medicine so I will always try to make you laugh even when you think it isn’t possible and it’s completely inappropriate. Stupid texts, WhatsApp and Snapchat messages will be my daily annoyance even if only in a vain attempt to make you smile, pictures of ‘pussy’s with teeth’ and manky hobbits feet combined with bad renditions of Adele’s ‘Hello’ and the odd emoticon covered nipple shot! Your fears are my fears.

I don’t think I am anything special I think there are many others with the same attributes and values as I! My ‘Lifers’ are my extended family. I have morals and standards I judge myself by, and wrongly or rightly those same morals and standards are what I judge others by too.

One of the only things my dad taught me was always treat others the way you wish to be treated! It’s a shame he never practiced what he preached but you learn that not everyone is cut from the same cloth and this is one of life’s hardest lessons because this realisation allows you to be hurt! I guess that answers why my relationship with my father is almost non-existent.

When I’m firing on all cylinders and my own life isn’t in crisis, lets face it none of us have our best ‘game face’ on when we are fighting our own war, our standards slip a bit, we lower the bar, swear a bit more and drink more than that, in turn this results in lowered inhibitions and a ‘give no f*** attitude’, but when the crisis is over and I’m ‘Just Kelly’ whom I hope is quite a likeable ole bird, I will walk over hot coals for the people I love. I am fair and I believe in love and second chances; EVERYONE is entitled to a second chance! (Except paedophiles, I’m not contradicting myself but there are always exceptions!)

We all make mistakes, we all fuck up, but we all try to learn from this so I have a ‘two strikes and you’re out’ policy.

Should I be wronged in any way, and this has to be major wronged, not just ‘oh shit, I forgot to pay you back the tenner you lent me for six months’ or ‘you borrowed my favorite cardigan FOREVER ago and you can’t return it because it’s covered in red wine dribbles’. I mean if you wrong me so bad it hurts, it makes me cry real tears not onion tears. I will tell you how you made me feel and if I find myself confronted with fake apologies, smug bullshit and a free of charge repeat performance, I will make you wish you never qualified to be a ‘lifer’ in the first place.

I don’t expect a lot in return just ‘loyalty’ ‘courtesy’ ‘reliability’ and ‘consistence’ if you cant offer the above then I will always still say hello because I am not full of hate or evil, and life is so very short to waste on hating. 

I class myself as a tolerant person but I categorically detest these traits in a person.
The Intermittent Mute – Speaking to me one day – blanking me the next (do we all have weird people like this in our lives or is it just me?) I wear my heart on my sleeve so I like to know where I stand if you are going to say hello then always say hello, if you always offer a little friendly nod mid yawn as you saunter past then maintain that nod even if it hurts your f**king neck because its called courtesy.

The Ultimate Shit Stirrer – If you hear something about me, come to me and ask because I don’t bite without good reason and nor do I judge! You would presume that if you don’t know the truth it’s probably none of your business, so don’t take it upon yourself to gossip about me. It hurts my feelings, I do have them you know?…feelings! I may come across as ‘That Loud Girl’ and ‘That Outspoken Girl’ but I am ‘Just Kelly’ and I still bleed and cry real tears just like the rest of you! The trouble with Chinese whispers is what might be an innocent flame of truth will soon be a raging furnace of utter bollocks if you fuel it with the oxygenated chatter it desires. This is a very quick way to end up in the ‘Triple F Zone!’ (Fired Fucked Friend!). There is no returning from here.

Like all contracts there are NO go areas.

My Kids. My army of four are my entire life and I love every annoying fiber of their being, from their smelly feet to their snotty noses, their innocent smiles and gregarious personalities. Upset them unnecessarily, not just steal a hair clip or make a face across the classroom, but really upset them where their sobs cannot be comforted from my cuddles. Then the rule book is thrown aside and my kick-ass alter-ego will generally open a can of ‘punch you in the face until being fucked in the arse by elephant feels like the better option’. I hate violence but it doesn’t mean I won’t use it.

And don’t try your luck with my husband, as much as he annoys me and gets on my tits I am quite attached to him. We’ve been to hell and back and take it from me it’s not pretty down there! He’s seen me at my ugliest and he’s seen me at my best and more importantly we have worked bloody hard to survive the odds that were stacked against us. I made a promise to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part so if you find yourself in the position where you think the ‘grass is greener on the other side spend little time watering your own garden and stop shitting all over mine’ my kick-ass alter-ego will rear its ugly head with  ‘shut the fuck up and listen before I turn your teeth into a necklace’! I like necklaces. I have a small collection.

Should you feel you have the attributes to apply to be a ‘Lifer’ please comment below, if you know anyone who shares the same standards and morals please share this post amongst the potential candidates.

PLEASE NOTE ALL previous unsuccessful appliCUNTS need not apply!