Topsy and Tim – Mummy Loses The Plot

It is Sunday lunchtime at Topsy and Tim’s house and Mummy has been making a delicious roast dinner whilst listening to the twins complain about how difficult their lives are.

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She is in a happy mood and nothing will break her. Even when Tim pisses all over the toilet floor (again) she cleans it up with a heart full of joy.

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Mummy has just finished Febreezing Tim when she hears the key turn in the lock. Oh good – Daddy is home from surfing!

Daddy likes going surfing because he is approaching 40 and struggling to come to terms with his rather pathetic existence. Daddy is the twins favourite parent despite the fact he prefers surfing to spending time with them.

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It’s not just you.

When you first have a baby it can be really magical. Everyone is so excited to meet them, friends and family appear with tiny little hats, meals and helpful hands…

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The first couple of weeks are tiring but amazing, you feel protected in your little bubble of love. But it can’t last forever…

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People start to disappear. It’s not their fault, everyone has their own responsibilities and you have bills to pay. Normal everyday life must come crashing back…

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Our family holiday diary

Day 1.

This year we decided to ‘holiday’ in the south of France. It’s a pretty looooooooong journey which makes it extra funny that after being in the car for approximately 1.5 minutes (I’m not exaggerating) the following questions begin…

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Hahahahahah. NO!

We get the ferry to Calais (which involved spending £30 on food no one would eat and hanging out in the arcade room for 1.5 hours) and drive to a skanky Ibis hotel somewhere in the middle of France to break the journey up.

I love sharing hotel rooms with kids because you basically get to sit in a dark room and drink wine out of tiny plastic toilet cups and listen to them fight.

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All in all, a fun day.

Day 2.

Got up and spent even more time in the car. It’s fine because we have those DVD players on the headrests meaning that the kids are happy and content. Or they would have been if they could just MAKE THEIR BLOODY MINDS UP!

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By the time we arrive at our cottage (we opted for self catering as our kids only really eat pesto pasta and chicken nuggets) the car looks like an utter shit tip and we all hate each other. Just the way a typical family holiday should begin!

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On the day that you turn 6

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You are 6 years old today. On a Saturday no less, what a treat!

You’ve been looking forward to this day for so, so long. The curse of the summer born is being the last of all of your friends to have a birthday; I know there will be a little stab of disappointment when you start back at school and realise some of your classmates are already turning 7, just as you’ve managed to catch up too! Life sucks eh? (Please note when you are my age it will be a blessing).

But today you are finally as big as everybody else and to celebrate we had your party at the (slightly violent) soft play around the corner. It was your choice but also heavily slightly influenced by Mummy, who after years of being a performing clown and pass the parcel constructor,  just um… couldn’t be arsed. Sorry darling – one day you’ll understand.

Anyway the main thing is that you loved it. You were delighted with your Lego Ninjago cake and couldn’t wait to get home to play with your presents, no longer needing so much help to follow instructions and construct them – you have grown up so much this past year.

At six you like – Yo Yo bears, Star Wars, Bionicles, talking about farts and poo, castles, space, battles, water pistols, scoring goals, going swimming, pizza, Twister lollies, zip wires, playing racing games on my phone and hunting for the perfect stick.

You really don’t like – Going to bed, the concept to sleep, sitting still, writing (‘It’s SO boring!’), homework, tidying up, vegetables, baked beans, getting dressed (we pay you to get your school uniform on, yes actually PAY YOU £0.20 per day – worth it though), doing anything vaguely helpful and pink and purple (because ‘they are GIRLS colours!’).

Going by the above lists you may have noticed that I have failed abysmally in any attempts at gender neutral parenting. You are a boysy boy with a penchant for casual violence but you have a very sensitive and innocent side too. At night you carefully arrange about 20 ‘special friends’ on your pillow and then sleep in a tiny gap on the edge of your bunk, when I come in to check on you before bed your face is often squashed right up against the bars.

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You still make me promise that you can live with us forever and you can’t lie – you just haven’t fathomed the concept yet. If I say you can have ’10 goes’ of your favourite game on the iPad you count them down out loud and hand it back when you are done. It’s never once even crossed your mind to pretend you had more goes left. What a lovely little fool you are!

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The Shitty Guilt Fairy

Not everybody knows this but when you give birth to your first child you also give birth to a little fairy. She’s kind of like Tinkerbell but WAY uglier and a total bitch.

Instead of carrying a wand she carries around a shovel of shit which she cracks into your skull whenever she feels like you are doing a bad job. Which it transpires, is quite a lot.

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The purpose of this fairy is to make you feel guilty about stuff from the get go, her first job revolves around the birth itself…

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Next she moves onto the way your child is fed. She has lots of fun with failed breast feeders…

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And she has an absolute field day if you dare to go back to work after maternity leave…

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17 Things I have Learnt About Camping With Kids

So we went camping at the weekend and as we went with several other families there were 17 kids in total between us! *laughs manically* Anyway I just though I’d give you a debrief in case you were thinking of making a similar mistake trip…

1. It will take you approximately 5 hours to pack your car for a two night stay and you will have had 37 different arguments before even leaving the house.

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2. When you arrive at the camp site you will feel optimistic, capable and ready to face anything – just like Bear Grylls!

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3. You will feel slightly less like Bear Grylls when the Sainsbury’s driver arrives delivering essential supplies of prosecco, halloumi and minted lamb kebabs.

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4. You will feel more like what you actually are – a middle class twat on a camping trip.
5. You will have loads of nice food to eat but the children will exist entirely on a diet of crisps and Capri-Sun.
6. There will be so much to do! Make a list so you don’t forget anything…

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Don’t worry I’m not dead!

I’ve been a bit quiet on here of late eh? After being inundated* with concerned messages as to where I was I thought I’d better set the record straight, I can’t bear to think of people lying awake at night fretting about me.

(* I had about 3 messages you heartless bitches! )

Anyway the news is that I have been doing this…

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Only my dream!

But as you can imagine writing a book with small children kicking about is pretty difficult. Not least because they don’t give a frick! This was the exact reaction I had from my boys when I told them…

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Katie

February 12, 2016

Happy three my guy!

I write this drinking wine to toast the eve of your birth (or just because actually I like wine and drink it most nights) surveying the mountain of plastic crap I am putting off wrapping. You need none of it but you’ll love all of it – and we really, really need a bigger house.

And so you go from toddler to little boy. You’ve shot up this year, your chubby cheeks have narrowed out, personality is appearing by the bucket load and words keep tumbling from your mouth with increasing complexity – and immaturity.

Everything is ‘poo’ including me, you have taken to calling me ‘Mummy poo’ which is err… endearing?! One of your favourite things to do is to take a song and change one of the words in it to fecal matter…

‘Let it poooo, let it poooooooo, can’t hold it back anymooooore!’

I shouldn’t laugh but it’s hard not to when you get it so right. I also shouldn’t laugh when you parp whilst sitting on my lap and say ‘Mummy I did a fart on you!’ and giggle. This is life with a house full of boys and I love it.

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So f*cking what If I dress like a mum?!

I keep seeing these sort of articles pop up every now and again – ‘Do you dress like a mum?’ or ‘How to avoid dressing like a mum!’

I took a quiz recently in a magazine to help determine if you dress like a mum and I passed…

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I was with my little sister at the time, who doesn’t even have kids, and guess what? She passed too.

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She was absolutely horrified! (only joking she didn’t give a shit).

I then looked at my husband and guess what – he also passed. So did my mum, which TBH was probably better than passing a ‘do you dress like a nan?’ quiz.

Next I answered the questions for my kids and would you believe it… they passed as well!

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We saw the light in the parenting tunnel!

Something weird happened the other day. It was my turn for a lie in (which basically involves hiding in bed and dicking about on my phone without judgement) and it was uncharacteristically peaceful. More often that not lie ins are peppered with shouting, crying, squawking and children running in and out of the bedroom to jump on you etc etc.

At about 9.30am I went downstairs to investigate and survey the damage. Get this – there was none!

I could only hear happy children and I could only feel a strange sense of calm. I walked into the kitchen to find J sat at the table.

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‘What are you doing?’ I asked

‘Sitting in the kitchen.’ he replied.

‘WHAT?!’

‘Just having my coffee…’ he explained

‘Sitting in the kitchen and drinking your coffee?!’

‘Yeh. I’ve Just been reading my book’.

‘SITTING IN THE KITCHEN, DRINKING YOUR COFFEE AND READING YOUR BOOK? WHAT?!’

I looked at him again, it was not a mirage, he was really and truly doing all of these things. They are three of my favouritist things to do in the world…

3 favite things

Was this some sort of fucked up, parallel universe in which being a parent allows you to do nice things for yourself?

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