questions Archives : Me, Annie Bee.

What kind of Mum are you?

Anna — Mon, 09 Jan 2017 07:00:16 +0000

As a blogging sort I spend a lot of time procrastinating writing. With deadlines looming there’s absolutely only one thing to do – a quick ‘Which DC character are you?’ quiz (Batman of course). Obviously, in the spirit of equality I must then do a ‘Which Marvel character are you?’ quiz (Thor – URGH, No one wants to be Thor) and then a ‘Which female superhero/villain are you?’ (Harley Quinn). As you can tell, I love a good quiz, I always have. It started with the Just Seventeen ‘What kind of friend are you?’ and spiralled from there. In homage to my love of quizzes, I decided to create my very own. So *drum roll* here it is, the one, the only, totally legit… WHAT KIND OF MUMMY ARE YOU? You hear your child shout “Mummy” for the 73rd time that morning, you: A) Reply “Yes darling?” B) Mutter “FFS” under your breath then “yes?” C) Shout “I’m changing my name and not telling you what it is” and stick a beer in the fridge to chill. It’s a rainy, Saturday afternoon, the kids are climbing the walls, you: A) Do some crafting? You always have glitter, glue and pompoms in case of emergency. B) Go to the park? It may be raining but there’ll be no queue for the swings and no OPC. C) Put them in front of the TV? They can enjoy Cbeebies while you drink gin in the kitchen and remember when Saturdays were about shopping for clothes. You finally get a babysitter so you can enjoy date night, you: A) Stay at home? You’re a family, you only do things as a unit now. B) Go for a meal? You spend the whole evening talking about the kids and call the babysitter to check they settled. C) Hammer the shots? You’re free! You’ll deal with the fall out tomorrow when the kids are climbing all over you. Your child wants a friend round for a play date, you: A) Spend time planning a themed play date? Creating games, outfits and even themed food, all homemade of course. B) Make a floor picnic? Maybe play some sedate party games too. C) Buy a couple of pizzas? Drink wine downstairs whilst trying to ignore the banging and crashing upstairs as they clearly trash your house. Your child’s school PTA needs helpers, you: A) Sign up for a variety of stalls? You’ll sell all your raffle tickets AND make enough cakes to single-handedly stock the cake stall. B) Start with the best of intentions? You’ll plan to be parent A but in reality you’ll reluctantly sign up to help at the 11th hour after the third, desperate, email has been sent from the PTA. C) Employ avoidance tactics? You spend a fortnight dropping your child off with the stealth of a ninja – avoiding all eye contact with PTA members and hiding behind trees. You’ll spend the school fayre having a pub lunch. Answers: If you answered mostly A – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. If you answered mostly B – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. If you answered mostly C – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. You maybe drink a little too much though… We should meet up sometime! Cheers.

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Perfect Mother?

Anna — Mon, 28 Nov 2016 01:45:09 +0000

Recently I had the (mis)fortune to read a blog post about the Perfect Mother. I’m not going to link it but to loosely paraphrase, us ‘honest’ mummy bloggers need to pull ourselves together, make a from scratch Annabel Karmel meal for our perfectly scrubbed and dressed children and never complain. EVER. I didn’t agree with this post at all, in fact I found it a little irresponsible, but it did get me to thinking. What is our role as a parenting/mummy blogger? I am only just starting to feel comfortable labelling myself as a blogger. Until very recently I simply considered myself to be a woman with an opinion, wine and WiFi. I’m just not happy with labels (I spent my whole time at art school denying I was a feminist artist when I clearly ticked the boxes) But, here I am, a blogger and more specifically a parenting/mummy blogger and, whether I like it or not I feel I may have some slight responsibility. I was never one for reading blogs, it was only once I became a parent they actually became a bit of a life line for me. I’d find myself in the middle of the night with an unsettled baby, an empty bank account thanks to Ebay ‘bargains’ and a lot of questions or self doubt as a new mum. So where did I turn? Why, your friend and mine Google of course. And, inevitably a click would link to a blog. If I was exhausted and feeling useless did I want to read ‘get dressed and stop being actively crap at your job’? NO! To my poor tired brain that read as ‘you’re a failure, you are letting your child down and probably everyone else around you including the cat….ESPECIALLY the cat’ What I wanted to read was the experiences of parents in similar situations. Parents telling me that they had really hard times but got over it. Telling about that one day the whole family had a pyjama day and no one suffered one little bit or that giving their child smiley faces for tea with a Fruit Shoot did not instantly result in type 2 diabetes. None of us went into parenting thinking it would be a piece of cake, we were all well prepared for the massive changes in our lives but maybe some of us weren’t entirely prepared for the mental and physical effect it would have on us, the stuff that people didn’t seem to talk about and so we look to the internet for answers. To see a post saying ‘you chose to be a parent, suck it up’ just isn’t helpful. And so I say to all the ‘honest’ mummy bloggers out there, keep being honest. Keep telling your tales of tantrums in Sainsburys (yours and theirs), play dates from hell and cake for tea (or a refined sugar free flapjack made in a moment of ‘supermum’ madness). Celebrate their survival and yours with a glass of wine once they’re in bed. If you’re like me you’ll assume no one is reading what you have to say but something you share just might make one very exhausted and overwhelmed new parent feel better about themselves and how they’re doing. CHEERS! This post first appeared on www.meetothermums.com

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“Life is a journey to be experienced not a problem to be solved”

Anna — Mon, 07 Nov 2016 22:36:10 +0000

There are some things that I can’t dwell on too much or my brain has a small meltdown. Aeroplanes for example. How does a large coke can move through the sky with no strings? Space travel. WTF? How can a tin can LEAVE THE ATMOSPHERE WITH A HUMAN INSIDE AND FLOAT AROUND AND THEN COME BACK? Even more perplexing – WiFi How is the internet floating all around us. Invisible. All the information in the world is just floating about waiting for a device to pick it up. BOOM I get a headache just thinking about these things. There is only one thing more baffling than these freakishly impossible things. My children. Why, If I’m sat in the same room and ask her to do something she can’t hear yet if I’m sneaking a bit of chocolate in the kitchen she hears it from miles away? Why does he consider a headbutt a sign of love and affection? Why does she loves chicken (and “actual dead fish”) at school but not at home? Why does she like pasta, sauce, chorizo and bacon cooked in a pan but if I cook it in the oven it’s the worst thing in the world? Why is she too tired to get out of bed to shut her bedroom door but OK to come to the top of the stairs to let me know? Why doesn’t he want his socks on? Ever. He wants no one else to have their socks on either. Why doesn’t she remember what she had for lunch at school but know she ate it all up? Why does he announces the end of every meal by throwing his plate? Why doesn’t she remember what she did at school but knows exactly what one of her friends did? Why doesn’t she know the answer but does know that I am most definitely wrong? Why does she declare a love of cucumber but won’t eat it? Why does he store his drink in his mouth for AGES then spit it all over the floor? Why can’t she possibly write neatly or stay in the lines in her homework book, she most definitely can’t draw and label a picture but her friend’s birthday card contains a well written and perfectly illustrated essay? Why can’t she sit quietly for 3 minutes while the news is on but can be deadly silent whilst Shimmer and Shine is on? Why does she feel the need to alert me to her misdemeanors via the medium of song? She could get away with so much more if she didn’t feel the need to soundtrack her life. Why can he barely makes sentences but can repeat anything he hears? ANYTHING. Why do they love crap TV like Topsy & Tim or Max & Ruby* but not enjoy Hey Duggee quite as much as me? Why does she have to make really shrill noises when I hoover or use the blender? Why can she have 3 napkins yet still use her sleeve to wipe her mouth? Why does he decide he absolutely MUST pick up the very important stone the minute we’re about to step into the road? If I really have no hands free he must attempt to eat it too. Why, when they are tired, do they want to stay awake even more? Why do they always want Daddy more than me? (Especially if he isn’t here). Why do they insist on growing up so flipping fast? Why won’t they give me a minute just to stop and take them all in. *Seriously, where are Max & Ruby’s parents? Why is she, a mere child of a rabbit looking after her little brother. Grandma lives really close, why doesn’t she chip in or alert the relevant authorities? Also, Why is Ruby such a bitch to Max? All he wants to do is play with his truck or something and she won’t let him. Clearly the loco parentis responsibility has gone right to her head.

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Happy 18th birthday Google (other search engines are available)

Anna — Tue, 27 Sep 2016 11:09:42 +0000

One of the best inventions for any parent/new parent is the smart phone. Not because it keeps you in touch with other adults via phone calls and social media. Not because we can enforce photos of our little angels 24hrs a day on people whether they like it or not. Oh no no no, because it means that Google is right there, in your hand, night or day with all the answers you desire and some you really don’t. I try not to use Google to diagnose illness, we all know you can go from a cough to death in three easy steps if you look at the internet too hard, but I have found myself searching a variety of random things over time. Does my baby sleep enough? Does my baby sleep too much? When do babies get teeth? How to sooth colic. When do I wean? When do babies walk? When do babies talk? Define ‘neurotic’. What should a babies/toddlers/child temperature be? What should a babies/toddlers/child heart BPM be? When do free nursery hours start? Cheap flights to New York. How to tell off your child when the naughty step doesn’t work. Why does my toddler keep pushing his fist into his mouth until he gags? How to stop a toddler running away. How to teach a toddler ‘STOP’ How to lose weight. Cuvee du golfe de Saint Tropez (red) sellers UK. How to prevent tantrums. How to deal with tantrums. Should my two year old talk yet? Why does my five year old constantly talk/sing/make noises? Why are my children attention seeking when they have all my attention? Cheap flights to France. How to stop toddler pulling hair/scratching others. How to stop five year old being mean. Why is my hair falling out? Toddler keeps lying down in road, why? How to explain respect to a five year old. How to make children sleep longer. Property abroad. What to do with a child who doesn’t care about repercussions? How to tell off a toddler who doesn’t care if you shout. How to stop toddler throwing stuff. Cbeebies. How to explain to five year old why they should behave. How to stop children hanging off me/touching me without making them feel unwanted. Engagement rings (it’s good to dream) Cheap flights for one adult. How to stop toddler trying to eat stones. Weather for *current location*. Wine offers. All these questions and dilemmas, despite there being millions of search results to all my queries, only about 4 have ever been successfully resolved. It turns out Google is just like most 18 year olds, think they know it all but actually full of useless information. I jest, of course (please don’t sue me).

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Things their mother said…

Anna — Tue, 16 Aug 2016 18:02:00 +0000

“Please can I leave the table?” “Well you can’t take it with you” I was about eleven when I finally got what this meant! More and more recently I’ve caught myself sounding like my mum. Now don’t get me wrong, my mum is fantastic but I’m sure we can all think back to our childhood and remember things our grown ups said that made no sense at all and resulted in us rolling our tiny eyes or just thinking “what are you chatting about woman? I always told myself I wouldn’t say those weird, nonsensical kinds of things. Ever….. “I don’t care if X’s parents let them do that, if X jumped off a bridge would you want to?” Why would I even ask that? It’s not like Aoife is going to turn around and say “actually Mummy, I would.” Unless she meant she’d bungy jump. In which case I’d reply with a swift “Over my dead body”. “I’ve spent ages slaving over a hot stove cooking this meal just for you” What the actual heck? For starters, who in the 21st century calls it a stove? It’s an oven. I’m pretty sure that all over the world it’s called an oven. I don’t think it’s been called a stove since the early 1900s. Secondly, I’ve not ‘slaved’ by any stretch of the imagination. I cooked a while. It probably took maybe half an hour. I was not forced. I did it by choice. There was no slavery of any sorts involved in cooking the meal which, to be fair, I probably wouldn’t eat either as I have tried to cunningly hide about seven different vegetables in it. “We look with our eyes, not with our hands!” Obviously we look with our eyes. We FEEL with our hands. Could I be more patronising? I also don’t know why I always say ‘we’. I have absolutely no problem with touching stuff that isn’t mine. “If you don’t tidy those toys away I’ll just throw them all in the bin” No I actually won’t, for two reasons. 1) I spent money on those toys and I’m not just throwing them away. Worst case scenario for the children is I’ll send them to a refuge. The toys not the children. 2) I really can’t be bothered to gather the toys and put them anywhere. If I could be bothered I’d tidy them away myself. “I spent good money on that and you don’t even appreciate it” This makes the least sense, what is ‘good’ money? How does it differ from ‘bad’ money? I don’t have a secret stash of ‘bad’ money lying around to buy things that shouldn’t be appreciated. And of course my children don’t appreciate stuff, they are 2 & 5. They don’t know what it means to appreciate so they can’t appreciate. Besides, they’re at a time in life where shit just appears whenever they want it, and sometimes when they don’t. “Why do I waste my breath?” Well, mainly so that I feel like I have a bit of a grip on this rollercoaster ride called parenting and probably to also reassure myself of my own existence every now and then. There’s nothing like the sound of your own voice to remind you you’re alive in the midst of an existential crisis. “Why would you do that?” Generally used when something has been drawn on or broken, the answer is obvious. Curiosity! ‘Would red look good on this wall?’ ‘What does this do?’ ‘How does this work?’ THAT’S why they would do that. “I am so disappointed” I don’t have the energy to let you know how very fucking cross I am when I know that you really couldn’t care less and will likely go do that VERY same thing again in a minute. “Why do I bother?” Well. And this one is the most obvious. It’s because I love you so much and would move heaven and earth for you. That’s why I bother.

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(S)he who does not ask remains a fool forever…..

Anna — Wed, 01 Jun 2016 10:21:00 +0000

It’s that time again, HALF TERM. Time for me to do some of that ‘proper parenting’ that I’ve heard about…. Obviously it’s blowing a hoolie outside (well it IS June) so we’re mostly in house. Aoife being here full time has made me realise exactly how many questions she asks me and this led me to think about all the questions I ask in a day… Why do children never use their indoor voices indoors? Why do Thomas the tank engine & his friends have drivers if the drivers don’t actually control them? Why aren’t the humans scared? Why does Seth need to walk up the street backwards leaning on my legs? Why must Aoife pick up every feather she finds on the street and rub it on her face? Where are Max & Ruby’s parents? Why does Seth need to start eating stones the minute we’re going to cross the road? Why do drivers get a grumpy face on when you don’t want to cross the road into fast flowing traffic just because they were kind enough to stop for you? Is sausage roll and popcorn a balanced and nutritious lunch? Do the Bananas in Pyjamas eat other fruits? Why does Seth touch his food or cup to his neck before he eats it? How can Aoife suddenly dislike the very meatballs that she’s loved for the last three years? Why is Blaze the only monster machine with a driver? Why aren’t the humans scared? What time is ‘too early’ for wine? Why do children need less sleep than me? Why do you get an itchy nose when you’re holding hands with two children and trying to carry a heavy bag of shopping? Why can’t my children stay on their feet? Why do they have a delay in responding to anything I say but have bat like hearing when food stuffs are being opened in a different room? Why does Xabi give teeth kisses when he wants to be stroked? Why do I have a conservatory full of toys when they show no interest in them until I want to get rid of them? Why do they have more clothes than me? Why does no one tell Peppa Pig off for being rude? Why do they have better social lives than me? Why don’t they sleep when they get tired? Are we really the rulers of our own destiny? Why do they make that awful ‘I’m actual choking’ noise every time I go to the loo? Why are they allowed to talk and sing constantly but I’m not? Why in Paw Patrol is an 11 year old boy in charge of emergencies and a woman with a chicken voted in as Mayor? Why is no one worried about talking dogs? Why are they willing to attempt to scale bookcases to reach something but aren’t able to reach for their own drink right in front of them? How did I fill my time before children? Why can’t they walk around people in shops instead of trying to walk through them? If all the male fairies are adults and they only have daughters, who will eventually rule the Little Kingdom? Why do they shout ‘HELP’ in their ’emergency’ voice for non emergencies? Why don’t children like to try new things? Why does Seth like Postman Pat the movie so much when it’s so very clearly flawed from start to finish? Why do the good things taste so bad and the bad things taste so good? Why don’t diet and exercise work right away? More people would stick to it I’m sure. When will the Wise Old Elf and Nanny Plum get together? Ugg boots and shorts-how can your feet and ankles be cold but your knees and thighs be warm? Why do children say “look at this….NO CLOSE YOUR EYES” Should I worry that it’s quiet in there or just appreciate the peace? Why does Seth kangaroo kick me in the throat every time I change his nappy? Why do they insist on standing on my feet? Why can’t they get off my knee without using their elbows/pointy bits? If they accidentally kill me by constantly leaping on me will anyone be able to get in the house to retrieve my body before the cats start eating me? Is it time for bed yet? Why is my wine consumption directly related to their behaviour? How can the sun go on holiday if it’s got no hands to use the internet? (This is Aoife’s contribution) The Tale of Mummyhood

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