Being a parent is hard as fuck… 

I’m not gunna lie this shit is hard man and sometimes I want to lock myself in the bathroom and not come out for an hour just to calm myself down and remind myself I’ve got all these things to be grateful for. That, at times I completely forget about in a cloud of stress and when I sit back and read my blogs back I realise how hilarious my day has been and how I wouldn’t change my life for the world because frankly it would be boring. 

Take yesterday after school for example we as we have established in my last few blogs the smallboy child has decided he doesn’t like his high chair anymore. Now he has 25 allergies so dinner times are extremely difficult, but he wanted to sit with his sisters and so we had a floor dinner . It was amazing (despite the boy child hating food and so being mega grumpy when we handed it to him).  We don’t have room for a table and me and chris use the dining room as a bedroom as we just don’t have the space for all seven of us in this house, so can’t put one in there we all sat on the floor eating our dinner, we all talked about our days, the girls thanks Chris for dinner and were generally pretty good (this does worry me sometimes mind) 

However our evening didn’t carry on like that and I was stupid to think it would to be honest haha. 

Later on in the evening  for example B and G got sent to bed early for playing up 5.50pm instead to 6pm to be precise. Then the small boy child went to bed at 6.15pm , R at 6.30pm and A at 7.30pm. You’d think that would mean me and chris (who is poorly) could clean up and then relax for a while before bed. Hahahaha that’s never the case in my house. 7.40pm on the dot B wakes up. She’s squirming around in her bed and crying I ask her what’s wrong she doesn’t tell me (this genuinely drives me fucking insane) I inform her gently to be able to help her she needs to tell me what’s wrong this makes her cry more (because obviously the task of talking for someone that hasn’t stopped talking all day is really hard) after about ten minutes she tells me she’s got tummy ache. So I go get her some calpol and give it to her. She rolls over and (so I thought decieving little madam) goes back to sleep. 8pm R comes down stairs “mummy I can’t sleep” , “ok sweetheart why can’t you sleep” the responce is an impeccable one “I forgot how to close my eyes” by now I know she’s just trying to out off going to sleep as over the last four months I’ve heard all the reasons you can imagine not to sleep, such as , my covers fell off, I need a wee(when she has just been) , I’m to hot, I’m to cold, my toy is talking to me keeping me awake(by this she means a teddy that doesn’t make a sound) , I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, my pjs fell off by themselves, you name it I’ve heard it. Inside I’m boiling up ready to burst. I’ve so much to do and could really do without this tonight . But still I comfort her and lay her back down where she goes to sleep eventually. Once I start tidying I check the baby monitor and see B playing In her room. Ok now I’m a bit miffed, so I go sit by her side for ten minutes until she goes back to sleep … again. Fifteen minutes later G is up for the toilet and because her chest hurts (she’s pointing to her throat) more calpol given and ushered back to bed by now it’s 8.30. I finally get the cleaning I need to get done, done . Chris has washed up he’s been amazing even though he feels poorly (you know man flu is a real thing right). Looking back on it now I’m greatful my children trust me enough to call on me in the night without fear of being told off or upsetting me (I hide that shit well and am currently giving myself a pat on the back) 

Then I sit to write a blog I wrote last night that’s yet to be made public. 9.45pm the small boy child is awake and screaming he won’t stop crying no matter what I do. He’s refusing the breast , squirming through cuddles, his nappy is clean and dry. So he also gets some paracetamol although he’s not as lucky as the girls as he is allergic he has to have a shitty liquid paracetamol that smells and tastes like shit. After another ten minutes or so of screaming no matter what I try to do and me continuously shouting in my head for fuck sake child why can’t you just tell me what’s fucking wrong. He does the pointy thing indicating he’s now ready for access to the milk makers. And the cutest thing happens he is happily feeding and looks up at me, stops what he’s doing and gives me a kiss without being asked to then he pulls out the other milk maker while frantically feeding from the left and holds it as if to say “this is mine too” he is a funny boy 

After his milk he lays on my chest just cuddling me for a minute and it’s amazing knowing how much he loves me and realising I can’t be mad at him for being awake is not his fault. Although he is now wide awake and ready for the day at 10.30pm. I try to put him in his cot, cuddle him and rock him to settle him but like fuck is any of that gunna work the child’s had nearly three hours sleep and any mum of children knows that’s more than most need. So I take him down to my room so he doesn’t wake his sisters and for the next 2.5 hours he is feeding on and off , playing , laughing , doing rolly pollys intermittently stopping to give me and/ or Chris a cuddle and a kiss. Everytime I go to take a photo he closes his beautiful big brown eyes because of the flash. (That’s chocolate dribble on his baby grow from after dinner FYI ) 
Finally at nearly 1am he’s looking tired  by this point I genuinely feel my milk makers are empty like completely the now remind me of deflated balloons that have stayed tied but shrivelled over time. Do for the first time in 19 months I put some expressed milk in a bottle and put him in bed with it. He settles and goes to sleep 2am comes and que G waking up for a drink waking B up in the process as instead of just going to the bottle next to her bed she has to scream like fuck until someone comes rushing to her rescue thinking she’s caught a limb in the slats under her mattress or something. Around 3am I finally settle off to sleep by this time on the verge of tears through pure exhaustion. 4.30am R is waking me up because she wants a cuddle (moments like this melt me) I give her a cuddle and send her on her way back to bed. 5am the small boy child wakes for a feed so I get up feed him and he goes back to sleep. At some point between 5.30-7am he woke for the day but chris got up with him to try let me sleep. 7am comes I get up and am in the worst mood imaginable because I’m so tired. I get up and am greater with the boy child coming for a cuddle swiftly followed by each one of the girls these cuddles in the mornings mean so much to me as when I sit and think about it who knows when they’re going to decide they’re to old to give mummy cuddles before doing anything else in the morning so I make the most of them and squeeze every ounce of love I have into my children. A who I’m still convinced is I’ll then tells me she knows I had a bad night with her sisters and so will be good and helpful and she is . The before school routine is pretty smooth even given the fact on Thursdays I take my friends little boy to school also (if you ignore mummy shouting occasionally after having to ask G to put her shoes on ten times or R to put her coat on fifteen thousand times) . 

Back from school run now only two children at home and this is when this mornings fun started (they have truly driven me insane in the last hour it doesn’t mean I love them any less though) 

The small boy child is screaming to get out of his buggy, which I was surprised he let me put him in this morning (he must of known mummy was not in the mood) because he wants some more milk and his breaskfast . So I get him out, feed him, make his and B’s coco pops and pop him down next to her so they can eat if only it was that simple . Nope I have no idea why but he’s decided they need to be all over my nice clean fucking floor and then he’s got upset about it (maybe he’s saving me the job of being upset about it) and having a tantrum. Wonderful, just wonderful ! So I pick them up and he calms down and sits and eats them. 

He finishes his breakfast and of course wants B’s I’m in the kitchen getting him some more and walk back in to him pulling her hair and her screaming with cereals everywhere (as I have mentioned before thank fuck for dry cereals) so I’m not breaking up a fight between a 19 month old and a 4 year old (after taking a couple quick snaps of course) how the fuck he is so small but winning this fight is beyond me but is pretty impressive as B is the loud , outspoken and “naughty” one. Not one other child in this house including A who is 8 have the balls to fight with her because she always wins. So it’s clear to me I should be proud the small boy child has got balls. 

I calm them both down B has some more cereals and tells me “mummy you’re fabulous I love you” melting my heart and making me forget about the last hour of stress, and the small boy child is demanding the milk makers…. again. 

So now I’m sat here feeding a coco pop covered small boy before changing his clothes and putting him to bed, while B is stood next to me with another box of cereals wanting more breakfast. So I can clean up my new fucking coco pop carpet ( and a random welly boot) I did not order, before maybe drinking my tea chris made me at 7am (it’s now 9.15am) and getting myself something to eat (if I’m lucky) 

I hope you enjoyed my morning more than I did. 

Much love 


A tear jerker and a shout out to the strongest most inspirational women I have ever met 

So I’ve just started blogging and mostly it’s been about my kids. This one however is about my best friend. The person that holds me up when I feel I’m crumbling , the person that wipes my tears when I feel I’m failing, the person that worries more about others than herself, the person that despite going through every parents worst nightmare still stands strong , stands tall and stands up. 

This is myself and Steph . Steph is an incredible human being and later in this blog you will see why I love her so much. 
So i’ll start at the beginning around 6.5 years ago I was in a hostel with my eldest daughter , my house had been broken into they had destroyed everything including all of my daughters things , her cot, toys , clothes the lot. I wasn’t bothered about my stuff but all of her memory box stuff was destroyed as well as her belongings. It was in the local paper and all sorts. I was on a bus one day and I heard “are you katie” from a young girl while I was admiring her beautiful baby in the buggy. So we got talking and she offered to help with things as we now had nothing. Added each other on Facebook and that was that I made a new friend. When I found out she had previously had beautiful twins born sleeping I wondered how the hell she functioned and was able to deal with that but I never asked, it was clear she was stronger than I think I would be in that situation and I didn’t want to bring it up and cause upset. Over the years we got closer sharing a mutual relationship with the children hospital as we both had poorly babies. Steph’s support was invaluable to me as she was there a lot with Harry as I was with Amie, but was a lot more knowledgable than I was with that side of things. We continued to chat regularly even if we weren’t in hospital with the kids and got to know each other better . Mainly over Facebook for about 18 months in total in which time I had, had my second child and Steph had, had Cody. 

Both Harry and Cody were very poorly little boys the had a skin condition called epidermolysis bullosa. This is a skin condition that causes the skin to blister the boys were covered in dressings to keep their blisters clean and free from infection. Children with this are often referred to as butterfly children as their skin is as delicate as a butterflies wings. You have to be so gentle and even cuddling them could cause blisters. They both ended up having tracheostomies because they’re wind pipes became blistered and their airways blocked. We talked more about our babies and got closer. I went on to have complications in my next pregnancy with Gabriella and had an emergency c section at 28 weeks steph was there for me whenever I needed to talk no matter what time of day or night. She helped me so much in that time . I was in awe of her strength and knowledge and still am. We would be up late at night while in different hospitals with our babies. Meet up if we were in the same hospitals and try to support each other (although I don’t think I’ve ever told Steph how invaluable her support was and how much it helped and very possibly saved my sanity). 

Gabriella came home around 18 weeks old and every day before that I spoke to steph she supported me through a massively scary nicu journey while having to provide around the clock specialist care for her own children. Gabriella came home tube fed as was Cody at the time. A friend of Steph’s had arranged a sponsored walk to raise money to get harry and electric wheelchair. There was no way I was missing this I wanted to help in anyway I could given how much I had grown to love Steph and the boys so I agreed to take part even if it meant taking a very small tube fed Gabriella in the buggy with me (which I ended up doing). I remember steph saying “I will bring Cody if he is well enough but if he pulls his tube out you’re re-passing it” as the slightest move wrong could cause blistering and I had, had to re-pass Gabriellas numerous times although steph had been trained she couldn’t bring herself to re-pass Codys tube understandably (luckily for me he didn’t need it redoing) lots of us did this walk and we raised enough to get Harry his wheelchair and more. I remember the day like it was yesterday. The link for the walk is here ..

We had a party after and the boys were there Harry was dancing and holding Gabriella he loved her so much . 

I think that was the day I truly realised how much I loved and appreciated everything about Steph. How much she had done for us without a single groan, despite how much she had to do for herself and her sons. We started spending more and more time together and were inseperable from then on. 

We would go out with the children visit each other’s houses.

Picture below of Steph, Cody and Gabriella 

 Fast forward I found out I was pregnant again and was terrified (it turned out rightly so) again I ran into complications through my pregnancy and she was by my side for everything , sat with me in hospital taking photos of me in labour at 24 weeks, making fun of me, trying to take my mind off things while inside she was scared she didn’t once show it. (The birth of Billie is for another day) Steph was there when my baby was born and saw her before I did being wheeled away in her incubater while sat in the corridor unable to do anything but comfort Chris, as the moment Billie was delivered I was put to sleep and he was ushered out not knowing what was going on. I woke up in HDU and she was sat with me while Chris was pacing the hallways (as I told him he wasn’t aloud to be with me he had to be with Billie and they wouldn’t let him in to see her yet, but he didn’t want to upset me) and she stayed by side, cleaned up my vomit , listened to my slurred waffle about having to express and see my baby and re assured me. Again she supported me through every day of a very bumpy nicu ride without a single grumble about what she had to do everyday. Completely selflessly helping and holding me up. 

Billie was a few weeks old and Harry got poorly. We had been for dinner the night before and he was fine I was so confused when I got a call while with Billie saying she was on her way to hospital with him. I went to meet her at the hospital and didn’t expect him in all honesty to be as sick as he was. Harry got transferred to another hospital with a picu as he was a very very poorly boy meanwhile Cody got admitted to the hospital harry had just left to help with his day to day needs. With all this going on she still checked how Billie was, how I was and made sure I was ok (I may of lied about Billie being ok so as not to put more stress on her and got told off for that later down the line) Then Cody got sick too. She told me to stay with Billie not to worry Cody had people with him but I couldn’t and spent a couple of days hospital hopping as they were opposit one another (the hospitals I mean) again through all this she didn’t stop asking about how me and Billie were. 

On March 13th 2013 Harry passed away. Steph came back to hospital with Cody where he was worsening. Again still worried about how Billie was. On march 15th 2013 Cody went to be with his brother. Something no parent should ever ever experience Steph has experienced twice in 2 days, yet the stubborn mare still worried and checked regularly how me and Billie were. When it was discovered the boys had passed away from flu I wasn’t aloud in nicu to see Billie for an “incubation period” to which all Steph could do was apologise for. I promptly put her in her place and told her now is the time to stop worrying about us focus on you. Given everything you’ve already read do you think she listened? That’s right no , no she didn’t. The next few weeks steph had all sorts to sort and arrange and I was by her side as much as I could be she just kept saying “stop worrying about me focus on Billie” but she is my best friend of course I was going to worry. I helped with what I could and was there when needed (and when not needed to be honest lol) 

March 27th the day of Harry and Codys funeral it was a perfect celebration of their lives with butterflies and storm troopers everything you could imagine for the two most amazing boys I have ever met in my life. Hundreds of people turned up. After the day was done and everyone had left you won’t guess what she wanted to do . She wanted to come and visit Billie and so we did. People other than me and chris weren’t aloud to touch or hold Billie but an exception was made that day and Steph got her first cuddle with our tiny fragile girl. All the time all I could think was why is she worried about us despite everything she’s going through, but that’s the sort of incredible person she is. 

The next few weeks are a blur of emotions,  nicu , home , and re admission for Billie what I do remember clear as day is every day, every single day while I was trying my best to be there for Steph and juggle the children at home and Billie in hospital without fail she would offer any help she could. 

We continued to be as close as could be. Steph came on holiday with me and chris for his brothers wedding and Billies first birthday. She has attended every birthday party she can and is godparent to my children. 

When I found out I was pregnant with Isaac she was mad at me because she was worried about what happened with Billie happening again. Yet supported me throughout she attended a clinic in London with me along with my friend Vicky for specialist testing as my downs screening came back high and although my decision on keeping him wouldn’t of changed I needed to be prepared . She sat with me at hospital apts Chris couldn’t attend. Everytime I was rushed into hospital she was there and when I was admitted at 28 weeks until he was born she would come visit as often as she could, she bought me food, sat with me watching shit telly, while shouting at midwives about why they weren’t helping me. Our hospital dates were amazing watching TV shows like judge rinder, eating chocolate and sweets like an old married couple. She laughed at me sending her pictures of me in labour while she was in bed and not aloud on the ward because it was too late. She was the first person I called when he came into the world. Shes not once moaned because she’s an amazing person . She’s visited my children in hospital even when the hospital brings back harsh memories for her. She has traveled two plus hours on a bus to come and see me as she knows my anxiety prevents me from traveling that far with the children on my own. Again she has not moaned. She has faughy my corner in hospitals against, nurses and consultants wether to do with me or my children. 

We may not see each other everyday but we speak everyday, and she truly is my rock and I am (I hope) hers. 

This is just a small snippet of why I love this women so much and how incredibly strong  and selfless she really is. 

The saying is write every blond needs a brunett best friend and I’m so lucky to of found mine. She is an inspiration to everyone that’s met her and the strongest,  most caring person I have ever met and I’m so unbelievably lucky to have her in my life. 

So dear Steph thankyou for that day on the bus you have changed and bettered my life forever. I love you lots beautiful and hope your not crying to much reading this 😘 

With school comes NITS 

So a while ago I made a massive Facebook post about nits I figured I would share it with you guys (the nitty gritty company better appreciate this post) With four girls two with very long very thick hair it’s the bane of my life and possibly one of the worst common issues in schools. Yes they are harmless and every one gets them but children shouldn’t in my opinion become infested with them. Below is the post that was put on my personal Facebook and shared over 600 times (good to see people agree with me) 

This right here is a miracle invention .. However some parents are clearly unaware of how it works . It is called a nitty gritty comb and is fabulous it removes life and eggs from hair (although eggs sometimes struggle to get caught in it in very fine hair granted) we have three of these in my house. You can pick them up for under £10 and are much better than the cheap shit ones you get with most head lice solutions. Some schools and children’s centres give them away free. I personally think if I school find a child has head lice they should offer one to the parents, but some stupid ruling now says schools aren’t aloud to talk to individual parents about their child having them (fucking rediculous if you ask me who wouldn’t want to know their child has nits so they can sort the problem). 

I have four girls all with a fair amount of hair , and a baby boy and still am able to use it daily 

It’s simple really , Presuming you brush your children’s hair everyday before and after school .

Now here’s the steps for the people unaware of how simple this amazing contraption is .

You brush the hair as normal (presuming you brush your child’s hair) if you have boys with low maintence hair that’s to short to brush physically examine the hair, it shouldn’t be that hard to go through. 

Then just section it off and run the comb through it .. Any eggs or lice will be caught in it rinse the comb and repeat .. do this until the comb comes away Clear for each section. 

Or when you wash your child’s hair use the comb through the hair while the conditioner is still on again in sections and rinsing everytime .. 

There isn’t any need for expensive and nasty chemicals if caught early 

OMG I hear you say really is it that easy .. 

Yes , yes it bloody well is! And the really shocking thing … If it’s done everyday it is possible to not have head lice invading your poor child’s head or a massive outbreak of them in your child’s lovely hair .. 

Here’s some interesting facts .. If your child has one louse that louse can lay 3-5 eggs a day , they then take 7-10 days to hatch and a further 7-10 days to lay their own eggs .. Not long is it ?! However if you use this miraculous invention daily why would it get to that point ? 

While your not checking your child’s hair and your child is infested by its forever growing hair friend family think about the fact of how they survive . They eat blood granted tiny amounts but these crawling little shits are surviving off your child’s blood .. Now how does that make you feel?! 

When your child goes to school nursery or anywhere else where they may be passed on they then start eating other children’s blood and who’s fault is that not the child’s?!

It’s yours the parent that’s not preventing or trying to prevent this from happening ! 

A few things can be remedied from the simple instruction above on how to use this comb .

Firstly – your child isn’t frustrated by constantly scratching their head.. 

Secondly – They are less likely to be bullied because of bugs in their hair 

Thirdly – They aren’t having blood sucked out of them 

Fourthly – They aren’t passing them on allowing this awfully uncomfortable and crap situation for the child to carry on .. 
Now I’m not saying kids don’t get them I am saying the reason they do is because someone somewhere obviously is either too lazy or unaware of how simple it is to solve this . 

My kids have got them many times from schools nurseries etc, but I do not allow the cycle to carry on through my children , by removing any of these nasty little shits the day they get them .. It really is rather simple…. 

I run this comb through my girls hair most mornings before school and every evening if I’m not around to do it as I’m at work, chris does. 

I also use the nitty gritty prevention spray I’m not gunna lie it fucking stinks but hey if it helps it’s worth it. Below I shall post some useful links to help with treating nits just for those that are unaware of the best methods to do so.

Oh and just for good measure here is a picture of one of the ugly fuckers I just pulled from my beautiful girls lovely blond hair . 


See you later for my after school blog . 


Side note: This blog is not aimed at anyone in particular it is just something that really fucking irritating 

Tuesdays are a good day …. Honest 

So today is Tuesday you may of seen my blog this morning about mornings with five kids . Well Tuesdays pick up is probably the best of the week (apart from Mondays and every other Friday when I’m at work and my friends pick them up haha). On Tuesdays I have a very good friend […]

So today is Tuesday you may of seen my blog this morning about mornings with five kids . Well Tuesdays pick up is probably the best of the week (apart from Mondays and every other Friday when I’m at work and my friends pick them up haha). On Tuesdays I have a very good friend come over she used to be my homestart worker but is an amazing friend. (Homestart btw are amazing and always looking for volunteers to help with families check them out). So she looks after the boy child and the small ginger one while I do school pick up.

So today I have work at 6pm and so put jacket potatoes on before I left for school run so we don’t have to wait to long after getting home and I can eat before work. I then Trot off to school (a whole seven doors away from my house) thinking this is gunna be great I’ve missed the girls so much :).

You’d think coming home would be a joyous time for the children also and they’d be able to relax an unwind from a long busy day. Well you are wrong, very wrong. I meet them one by one at their classrooms the younger blond one first (G) and then the older mousey five year old (R) then the big ginger 8 year old (A) . I greet them with big smiles and they do me. We have deep conversations about their days these normally consist of me “so what was the best bit of your day today” them “ummm dunno”, me “what did you eat for lunch” , them “ummm dunno” …. good chat kids good chat. I talk to the parents in the playground knowing full well most of the time they’re thinking fuck me she looks like shit today but are too nice to say it (Heads up mums in the playground feel free to say it I’m aware and know I look like shit pure exhaustion has driven me to not care)

The walk home as I said above a whole seven doors away is always interesting. While today A was very good this isn’t always the case. 

The G and R pop to see a teacher from last year that they love, interupting even the most important conversations just for a cuddle and to you Mrs cook I’m greatful because this is a part of their daily routine and they love it and you don’t moan when some would. We make our way home and they see their friends and start darting off in all different directions knowing I’m aware other parents are around and I can’t be seen to be stressed or under pressure as I ask politely three , four or five times for them not to run off and eventually resort to “GET BACK HERE NOW OR NO PUDDING” in my best mum tone. They then walk within my sight and both R and G normally end up argueing because the R wouldn’t play with G at play time. To which I gently explain they are aloud to play with their own friends as well as, or instead of each other sometimes. 

Today G got stolen by her friend we walk past his house every day and he is in her class. Me being mum of the year completely forgot she was supposed to go play at his on Saturday and we went to the rugby.  His poor dad has had to listen to him upset since. He was waiting outside his house for her and asked if G could go and play . Of course I let her , yes I’ve missed her but I felt terrible for forgetting…. que R kicking off because she wants to go too and I said no as she sees her friends and her little sister isn’t aloud to go.

Anyway now I’m home with four of the five. Routine is coats , bags away and shoes off and away.. haha as much as this rule is in place it’s rarely followed properly. I currently have their coats away and bags in the hallway and shoes still on.

Now the fun part starts , A asks for her phone (which she has confiscated for a week and was due back today) I give it to her and she’s happy . The B (small ginger one) is still clutching the iPhone I gave to her earlier although the battery died hours ago and she’s not actually been using it. I (the small boy child) is doing that shouty pointy thing meaning is time for the milk makers to come out and R is watching what A is doing on her phone everyone’s happy….. Haha not for long next thing I hear this scream the most high pitched, awful scream like someone’s really hurt themselves . I panick look up and am met with this … (note her shoes still on and not away)

I ask her what’s the matter and how can I help and all I get back is a mumbled screech that no way in the world could I translate . Luckily for me A is a master in screech interpretation and promptly tells me that B won’t share the (dead) iPhone. I take her to the kitchen and try to disract her “would you like to help with dinner” , “how can I make you feel better”, “mummy doesn’t like it when you’re sad” apparently this makes it worse .. see pic below this gentle parenting stuff is fucking hard work man.

Eventually I agree to charge it if they take turns and that seems ok (ish). So it’s on charge and B is watching peppa meanwhile the R continues to cry a dull , annoying little winge until it’s her turn and I tell her she needs to calm down and ask nicely and she can have her turn as she will get a headache if she carries on and then won’t want her turn. She asks nicely, calms down and is now having her turn . Although I’m fully aware when her turn is up the winge will be back 🙄. I did get a grumpy cuddle with her though :). Even if I am still wondering how a tshirt gets that dirty in a day . Thank fuck chris does most of the washing poor sod. 

So yeah everyone’s calm and happy now but my headaches just been made worse by the fire alarm because my oven hasn’t been properly cleaned out in longer than I can remember because finding the time to do that is as rare as finding a fucking bear pregnant with a baby octopus.

Now dinner is ready well I can smell burnt beans (who the fuck manages to burn beans)   and I need to eat and get ready for work.

They’re stories for another day.

I hope you enjoyed my school run as much as I did haha.

Much love

One exhausted mummy

Side note: There will be heart melting blogs  , because my children can be angels sometimes and I do love them very much no matter how much they drive me round the bend some days.

The most interesting time of the day… Morning time

So I’m Kate a mum of five aged 19 months , 4,5,5&8 (no, not twins ones just turned five last month and the other is six next month) I’ve never blogged before so bear with me also please bear in mind I’m exhausted and my spelling and grammar might be off.

Let’s start with the most interesting part of my day in our house we like to call “morning time”

Today was a good day in comparison and here is how it went.

After about three hours sleep because I’m sure my children hate me . I woke to that noise everyone dreads , the annoying and loud sound of the standardised iPhone alarm tone (oh how I hate that noise) I laid in bed while Chris my partner (he’s a bell end but my bell end) went up stairs to wake the girls and get the small boy child from His cot. He comes down stairs and plonks the small child on my bed where he clambers across getting pissed and shouting at the covers as he gets tangled in them, until he eventually gets to me and nose dives into my milk makers like something out of a zombie movie to latch for his morning milk. My early morning wake up is made better by the fact he is teething and there is snot .. snot everywhere. So not only am i flinching at the feeling of new razor sharp teeth rubbing against my poor nipple but It also looks like aliens have vomited on my breasts (attractive this breastfeeding lark hey) anyway he finishes his feed (or so I think) I get up and head to the door to go get washed and have my morning poo. Then I hear him shouting turn around and he’s pointing (pointing and shouting is his universal call for the milk makers Which I used to call my breasts), so I sit down and offer the other side he feeds happily again scratching me with his new found teeth and covering me in alien vomit (aka snot) . When he is done he unlatches happily and climbs off the bed .

I head to the kitchen to get him some blueberry wafers to buy myself enough time for my wash and poo and plonk him in his high chair .

When leaving the lounge I’m collared by the small ginger devil child demanding breakfast. I explain no darling we have breakfast once we have taken the girls to school you know that and offer her some fruit.. Well that was a trainee mum error I should not of made because que the four year old ginger devil child doing the “floor drop” as we like to call it and kicking her legs around while screaming like she’s actually being starved or worse. I calmly explain this is what we do every morning while she’s shouting “cake cake cake” and we can’t have cake for breakfast. I tell her again calmly I will leave her to calm down while I go wash (while in my head willing her to stop screaming because I’m fucking exhausted and can’t take it this morning) . At this point the wafers the boy child had are now consumed and he’s screaming for his cereals I make his cereals and put them on his tray on his high chair turn around and he’s launched them all over the floor (thank fuck for dry cereals and a clean floor a lesson learnt on baby number one) and is now screaming to get out of his high chair . I try to give him his cereals again and again he launches them at this point the small ginger one is happy that someone else is causing a scene for once and I can’t be arsed to argue with a 19 month anymore so get him out put his bowl on the floor and he happily sits at it eating. Occasionally shouting at the small ginger one as she is not so slyly stealing the odd spoon full of coco pops from his bowl.

Right now I’m gunna get my wash and poo finally. I go upstairs and am greated by a small blond child that thinks she is funny with her shirt on backwards sat on my thrown when she is supposed to be getting dressed for school (please remember this is a good day) the big ginger one and the mousey blond one for the first time in what seems like forever are actually getting dressed without any arguements . I get the small blond one dressed and usher her out of the bathroom so I can wash (the poo is out of the question now I just don’t have time) while calling to the girls to go downstairs and start brushing their hairs when they’re dressed.

To my surprise they do I go downstairs after my quick wash (now feeling like I might shit myself) and the eldest or the big ginger one as she shall be known for now is helping her sisters brush their hair and putting them up . This worries me hugely and I’m on the verge of taking her temperature and giving her the day off of school as she must be ill. I get the snack bags ready while she’s doing that. Chris then asks her to read them a story while i sort the smaller two and she does (I’m genuinely thinking she must be really poorly at this point). Chris then leaves for work and the big ginger one is still reading while I get the little ginger one dressed. Once I’m done I ask the big girls to get their coats on. Clearly my idea of getting their coats is different to theirs as I meant like a normal human you know arms, in hood up, buttons and zip up and from that they took use them as capes. At this point in the morning I genuinely cannot be arsed to argue anymore with them so looks like I’m walking three supermen to school.

Here is the really fun part.  Everyones ready and the small boy child is still eating so I attempt to put him in his pushchair. In this attempt he starts screaming and I have to use the whole knee to secure him while I do the straps up trick (failed three times btw) and once he is in I give him his bowl back as I just can’t take the screaming , que coco pops all over the floor again.  Now he is wriggling and squirming into awful positions so much he could strangle himself  at any point on the straps and so I get him out. I say “shall we walk then today” in my calm, gentle, mum voice (that secretly wants to explode) and pop him on the floor. Well what a mistake that was as he’s now learnt the “floor drop” (oh the joys of toddlers) and is screaming on the floor in a mood. See picture below 

At this point I’m genuinely ready to burst and so i pic Him up hand him back his god damn fucking coco pops ) that have caused me more stress than any cereal should this morning) and carry him on the school run.

Thankfully a few doors away from my house two of the children decide they want to wear their coats properly. However at the same time they also decide they’re old enough to walk to school by themselves (wtf they are 8&5 so no fucking way is that happening they might drive me insane but I do actually love them) I explain they’re too small and it’s dangerous so instead they decide they have to walk at least 7 meters in front of me because “it’s embarrassing walking to school with my mum” … Cheers kids , bloody cheers , I feel really appreciated! 

So anyway I watch them in the doors to breakfast club (thank fuck for breakfast club I’ll tell you) and head home.

I get home and the moment I’m in the door the small ginger one is demanding breakfast but the small boy child is demanding boob in his shouty, pointy way and it’s his before nap feed. So I explain if she gets the things out I will feed him and then do it for her . I sit down to feed him and hear cereals and I don’t mean in the boxes I mean hitting floor. She has decided she’s a big girl and she can make her own breakfast I go into the kitchen and find cheerios and coco pops on the floor as she decided she wanted “mixed up” and missed the bowl (aren’t my days so much fun) I pop some cereals and rice milk in the bowl and calmly say “well done for trying baby but maybe next time wait for mummy to help” while inside I’m screaming for fuck sake, why doesn’t she listen,  who the fuck is gunna clean this up.. Some days I impress myself by keeping This shit in my head. 

Bearing in mind all this shit has happened before 7.55am .

Anyhow I go to put the boy child in bed and clean up while she’s finishing her breakfast and then proceeding to get every toy possible out in the lounge. I then do what every responsible parent I know does… I give her my old iPhone and put on baby doll videos to occupy her (because for some strange reason she would much rather watch people play with dolls than play with them herself) so I can clean up some more.

It is now 10.15am and I’ve just found a cup of tea that chris made me at 7.10am and am drinking that and finally sat writing this.

That’s all for now because in all honesty I cannot function much more today and have work tonight.

I hope you enjoyed my morning than I did I also hope in years to come I will look back on my stressful mornings and miss them.

See ya

One exhausted mum x