Mummyfried

Below are key messages I would like to deliver to management... That's right, to Mummyfried (the boss of the boss:  my own alter ego)  the big boss upstairs, the vertically challenged bosses I gave birth to, the bosses at the paid place of employment:  To Mummyfried:  Stop the 60 -70 working week and dreams about really being a tall, blonde, athletically thin, dedicated houseproud yummy mummy and fabulous friend. It's not working. Take a stand. Get to it and sort it out. (Stop being a slave to the system, eating, and start exercising! the rest will follow). To the ankle-biter bosses: The days of empty threats are over. You fail to pick up, I promise to throw out!  My feet deserve a lego free walking path environment!  To the boss upstairs. Give me a break. Please? Like, a real one? A lottery ticket, a wealthy uncle who wants to hand it all over, a warm hug, and some hot chocolate? Please? Don't carry me leaving footprints in the sand, if I fail to act on th...

Today I attended an emergency session with a child specialist. I knew deep in my heart, the problem wasn't with either of my children. The problem was / is with the child in me. That sensation of fear, guilt, shame suddenly engulfed me during the session.  What was I doing here? All along, I knew the truth, but for some reason, I had to hear it from a trained professional. I paid 100 euro to hear what my heart had been telling me all along. It was time to grow up - take responsibility and change the circumstances I had created. Without fear.  I had made a decision, the right decision and I failed to communicate that clearly to the children.  I was not acting with confidence - but with great sadness  - and this had caused confusion. I expected the children to accept a change that was better for them in the blink of an eye. They are not that adaptable,. It took me a little over two years to take the courage and gumption to take a positive step. How was it t...

It's come around so quickly. The end of yet another year. I have been blogging for nearly a year, averaging on one blog a week. Not bad for a newbie. Sure the content has been snooze-worthy at times (ok most times). On a rare occasion I have managed to crack a smile from some readers, and some comments! This year has been the toughest yet greatest year of my life. My immediate family has bought me joy and laughter. I treasure them each and every second of the day. I wake up each morning and can't wait to see the smile, giggle and scream with laughter. I have been met with challenges I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Challenges that have changed the way I view people and relationships and life in general. I have fought battles I never imagined possible. I haven't won.  I have come out wounded but hopefully wiser. The sort of wars I have had to take part in never result in a winner. I have said goodbye to people, hello to new friends and family and have p...

I have a serious case of green eyed monster. I can't shake it. It's getting bigger, uglier and hungrier by the second. Try as I might to rationalise, calm it down, and tell it to go away, it won't. Like a raging bull, this monster is out of control. OUT OF CONTROL I say! The Baby has an obvious preference for Mr Lucky.  She falls over, she runs to Mr. Lucky. She wakes up in the middle of night howling, only Mr.Lucky can calm her down. She wants to play, it's Mr Lucky. I know I sound like Jan Brady but I can't help but say  'Mr Lucky, Mr Lucky, Mr Lucky!' The clever little bugger comes to me for feeding, nappy changes, baths and when absolutely desperate for a sleep and Mr Lucky isn't around for wind down. That is it. I feel used, useless and a little embarrassed / ashamed to admit I have been doing Jan Brady for weeks - am mortified (particularly as I would have preferred to be cool, hip, well liked and popular Marcia). Little Miss is slowl...