Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Micky Flanagan at the O2

I Had A Great Weekend

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This past weekend (Saturday 16th September) I went to see Micky Flanagan perform at the O2 with my husband for his 31st birthday. I booked the tickets months in advance for my husband but realistically, if I stop all forms of lying to myself, the tickets were for me.

I. LOVE. Micky Flanagan, the reason being that when he speaks it feels like home. He grew up in the same area as me, he went to the same places I went to, he uses the same banter that I'm used to but mostly I love him because he is unapologetically him. I changed my accent when I was a kid because my music teacher told me to. She said: 'You are smart, smarter than maybe any child I have ever taught, but no one will ever take you seriously with the ridiculous way you speak. You will never be a concert cellist if you sound like that'. (I'm not a concert cellist by the way) So I felt an idiot and I changed it. When I'm feeling comfortable or I'm around people I grew up with I go back to speaking with a cockney accent and it feels so good, so when I saw Micky up there bragging about being a millionaire and fucking off the Royal Variety with his wild yet oddly stiff curly barnet putting in as much a performance in itself, I felt proud.

This guy could have lived up my road, and he made it. He's big time. But despite this, despite his wild success and admission at the beginning of the set that he is a millionaire, I feel like I know him. I'm not ashamed to say that as we walked out of the venue a little part of me thought 'I wonder if he'll be at the bar later, I'd love to say hello to him and his wife'. Of course he wouldn't have been at the bar, well not the bar that I could access anyway. To me, that's the sign of a great performer. He's like a mate, unattainable though he is, and still completely relatable.

Unfortunately, the night we went there were real characters in the audience. I wouldn't really call them hecklers, they were just really bloody annoying. They were laughing at bizarre times, it was almost as though that whole section was watching a different show to the rest of us, and I was so impressed with how Micky dealt with them. He had a bit of a giggle at their expense as most comics would and, when it became obvious that they weren't going to play ball, he just carried on with the show. He did apologise at the end and to be honest they ruined the show a little bit but nothing awful and it was hardly Micky or the O2's fault.

Overall, it was a great night and I would highly recommend you go to see him, he's still in London for another week or so if you can get there.

I hope this blog post finds you well and, if not, I hope it leaves you better.


Monday, 18 September 2017

If you haven't had kids and you have a vagina you probably shouldn't read this

My Labour and Delivery 

Today, for the first time, I am going to discuss my labour and delivery with my second child. This is just my story, most births are not like this and indeed, my first was much better. Here goes...

I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes when I was 18 weeks pregnant. I had this when I was pregnant the first time and so I knew what to expect. In my case my risk factors were family history and my ethnic background but I had been hoping to escape it this time around. C'est la vie, shit happens, I got on with it. I did know, once I had to start injecting insulin as my sugar levels became more and more out of control, that I would have to be induced because, unfortunately, there was a slight risk my child could be still born. Induction hadn't worked the first time and had ended up in a c section and I knew in my heart this would happen again but we do anything for our kids and so I happily agreed to be induced again.

I was already having pains by the time induction day arrived and I was hopeful that it would work this time. I had my birth plan in place, to avoid a three day labour like the first time I would try for 24 hours and if the same problems started I would go for surgery to avoid this baby becoming distressed the way my son had. Fantastic, agreed with my consultants and all written clearly in my notes, I felt confident that this would go smoothly.

24 hours passed and I was in agony, I had thrown up from the pain, gas and air was no longer helping and I was stuck at 5cm. The doctor came in at 11pm and said he recommended I have a c section as baby was at risk of having similar issues to my first and I found myself signing the consent form while shaking from another contraction. Having more intimacy with the gas and air than I had had in months, I fell into a disturbed sleep to try to get together some energy for the surgery I was about to have.

At 6am the next day a midwife came in and told me that I was to be nil by mouth as I would be going in soon, I let her know that I hadn't eaten since last night at 6 and I only had a drink after I threw up at 11 so I was good to go whenever. 'Great', she said, 'call your husband it could be any minute'. My poor husband, who I had sent home so that at least one of us would be half human after the surgery, rushed over and was there by 7am.

At 6pm I was still contracting and, being pregnant and diabetic, I was starving. But, given that I was a sweaty mess, the biggest issue i was having whats that I was THIRSTY. I had a shower to try to cool myself down (it's super fun trying not to fall in a soapy wet room when your centre of gravity has moved and every contraction makes you jump). We asked when we might be going down since I was high risk and things were still happening in terms of contractions. 'Soon', they said. Ok, we waited. 11pm rolled around and it had been 24hours since I had anything to drink and even longer since some food. I think I started seeing things to be honest and I was so weak but I told myself that my high risk status would mean that, surely, they would see me soon. So we went to sleep.

The next day at around 4pm I couldn't take it anymore, I was shaking constantly and I could barely raise my head so I was given a glucose gel type thing and put on a drip. They finally told me it was my turn at around 6. 30 hours, give or take, nil by mouth, though the drip and glucose did help a bit.

In the theatre I smiled, happy this would almost be over. I held still through contractions while they put in the epidural, I laid down, the surgeons introduced themselves and laughed and chatted away as they got started with bringing my baby into the world. And then, with no warning other than a little nausea, I stopped breathing. I was very aware that I wasn't breathing anymore, I couldn't do anything about it but I felt fine. There was no chest pain, nothing to say that this wasn't going well other than the fact that I could no longer breathe. Now, looking back, I think it may have been a panic attack because there were no alarms, no one knew anything was wrong but I thought I was dying. In the space of seconds I went from looking forward to meeting my baby to hoping they got the baby out before I died. Maybe dramatic, but I truly believed and accepted that that was it.

When my husband saw the panic on my face and asked me what was wrong, they realised I wasn't breathing and an oxygen mask was slammed on my face, drips were adjusted as the anaesthetist told my husband I was just dehydrated and not worry. I'm not sure how long it took me to feel normal again, but this happened two more time during the operation and wasn't helped by the fact that I could see the contents of my body splayed out on the table in the reflection of the lights above me. That alone was bad enough to be honest.

Nyla was born at 20.17, 8lbs 4oz and honest to God beautiful from the very start. During my surgery there was a shift change and my lovely midwife was replaced by a woman who just shouldn't be allowed to work with vulnerable women. She told my husband that our baby was diabetic and wouldn't allow him to dress her, we had lovingly chosen an outfit and bought it in 2 sizes. She chose the wrong size which was too small and didn't bother with the other one, so wrapped my baby in a towel and gave her to us. Oh well, I thought, more skin to skin for us then. Never mind, not ideal but every cloud.

There were no beds in recovery for us so we spent to first couple of hours with our baby girl in theatre. We were taken back up into the room we had been in before my surgery and when the porters had anchored my bed and I was trying to breastfeed my daughter the midwife grabbed her and pulled. I didn't understand what was happening, no one had ever stopped me from nursing my first child so I held on to her and asked what she was doing.

'This baby is diabetic!', she shouted at me. I'm not exaggerating, she was yelling at me. 'She needs formula, now'.

'OK, I don't have any formula'.

'I have it, let me do my job'. She tried, again, to take my baby from me. She was so rough and I finally lost my cool.

'I will feed her, don't touch her like that again’.

She gave me the formula and stormed out of the room. I couldn't believe it but my husband and I tried to just get on and enjoy our daughter. She came back with the oversized machine to measure her blood sugar and I expected that, they had done it with my son as well. And then, with what I expected to be a normal procedure, my world came crashing down.

'You didn't let me do my job, her blood is far too low for so long. Now you have given her brain damage'.

It was as though someone had ripped my stomach through my arsehole, the sinking feeling I felt. Weak from surgery and two days without food or water, I asked her to clarify and she told us that leaving her with such low blood sugar would undoubtedly result in permanent brain damage, and that it was my fault. I remember her voice as though she were speaking those words to me right now. I looked at my beautiful girl and I just couldn't register that she wasn't perfect. That my body had failed by having diabetes and destroyed her chance of a healthy life.

To cut an incredibly long story short, Nyla is fine. No brain damage. But to this day those words destroy me. One day I will dedicate a post to how that affected me, but believe it or not, there is a point to me sharing this story and it's not for attention. My point is, how is that woman working with vulnerable women? Was it a bad day? Is she routinely emotionally scarring her patients? Is she so incompetent that she believed what she had said? I am positive that there was no day during her training where she was told that she should forcibly remove a newborn attempting a latch at her mother's breast, so what the hell happened?

I haven't complained yet, I don't have the strength to face her. I will one day, but for today I am trying to achieve my goal of going an entire day without reliving that god awful experience.

One day, I might even sleep.

I hope this post finds you well and, if it doesn't, I hope it leaves you better.

m_ak x

Thursday, 7 September 2017

Going from one to two children without losing your mind!

Tips and products for transitioning from one to two under 2

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If you find yourself in a similar situation to mine whereby your next child is arriving sooner than strictly anticipated, I thought I would share some tips, tricks and products that really worked for us to help us not completely lose our minds. 

1) Get your child used to the new sleeping situation in advance.

When I became pregnant for the second time we were living in a one bedroom property and so our son was of course still sleeping in our room. We had to ensure that we moved way before our daughter arrived so that there would be no feelings of jealousy from our son about suddenly being ejected from our room.

 We also took him shopping for his new room and would present him with two acceptable options for his room e.g. which toy box he should have. This made him feel part of the move and also, I believe, helped him to identify the new space as 'his'. We did not move him into his room in the new property until it was completely decorated.

2) Find ways to minimise saying 'no' because of the new baby.

This was a tricky one. Safety is always an issue when there is a newborn and you don't want to compromise here. That being said you want the new baby to integrate into your child's life as much as possible without affecting your relationship with him especially at such a young age. We decided we needed safe nap options for our daughter and decided straight away that the traditional moses basket would not work for us. We instead opted for the Inovi Cocoon
      Inovi Cocoon Travel Crib (Grey)

The mesh canopy allowed us to spend time in the garden with our summer baby and our toddler without worrying about her being attacked by bugs, but it is easily removed with a zip and is a larger than average size which we anticipate actually lasting her up to 6 months. It is also fantastic for travelling and comes with a bag that you can transport it in meaning we didn't miss out on the summer social barbecues and picnics at the park as we simply took this along with us. I couldn't be without it and I highly recommend you take a look. 

At the time of publishing the Inovi Cocoon is on sale from £115 down to £92.50. You can check out all the features and colour options here.

The fact that we could spend quality time with our son and he could go and peek at his sister without me worrying about him poking her eye out or hurting her in some way really helped them to bond.

3) Changing bag

There is no doubt that when you have two children under 2 you carry A LOT of stuff. My previous bag had been Skip Hop and I was adamant that I would stick with that brand as I had put that bag through some serious trials and it was still beautiful, just not big enough anymore. After a lot of research I settled on the Skip Hop Grand Central Take-It-All Changing Bag  which at the time of publishing is on sale from £85 to £78.75

It looks beautiful, it fits everything I need for a day out with the kids and because of its many compartments I even have a large area where I can keep my things with a pouch for my phone as well! Insulated pockets to the side fit 2 MAM bottles in each easily, more if you ever needed to. Fantastic bag, I adore this brand and would genuinely look to them first for large, fashionable solutions for a changing bag. 

4) Get your child involved in caring for your newborn

Ok, we aren't talking babysitting here but getting your toddler involved in bath time, changing nappies by handing you the wipes, kissing baby when she goes down for a nap, little things like this give your toddler a real signal that this little thing really needs looking after. My son has matured incredibly this last 3 months and takes looking after his little sister very seriously. If she cries and he feels I haven't attended to her quickly enough he will drag me to her, if he can reach her he will kiss her and stroke her feet.

That's another thing right there, safe touching zones. As I mentioned in my first point, saying no all the time because of the new baby can cause jealousy and resentment in toddlers, so instead of telling him he can't touch his sister we taught him to stroke her feet and legs so that if he has a moment where he is a bit rough (it happens!) it's not the end of the world. Better her leg than her head!

5) Baby Wearing!

My daughter suffered quite badly with colic and, for a time, I thought I would lose my mind. Genuinely. My son was teething, she wouldn't settle and I felt certain that I wouldn't make it through. Then a friend suggested baby wearing. I was willing to try anything and so I just bought what she had as she kept raving about it. She had the Close Caboo. I cried real tears of joy when I put my daughter in it and she actually settled, it was the most incredible thing. My son wasn't getting jealous anymore because I could go for walks with him again all while carrying my daughter close - exactly where she needed to be at that time. 
At the time of publishing the sling is on sale from £49.99 to £43.61.

Since discovering baby wearing I have learned that there are many options and not every baby carrier will work for every baby. I would recommend having a look in your local baby sling library (yes it's a thing!) and trying some out if you can. If, like me, you don't have one near you I can highly recommend this one as it keeps babies legs in the optimum position so that they don't get hurt or affect development, the support on the back makes it more comfortable to wear than some others that I have since tried and it is good for that period just after you give birth where you are larger than normal as your tummy shrinks as the wrap size is generous. For us, it was magic! 

**SECRET EXTRA BENEFIT** I kind of used it as a wrap for my tummy as I had a c section with the way I wrapped it. You're welcome :).

6) Baby swing

We can't baby wear constantly, and because my daughter had colic I found that a rocking motion helped to soothe her a lot so we invested in a baby swing. I feel that they are all much of a muchness to be honest but we bought Ingenuity convert me 2 seat candler swing because it was on sale at the time. 
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At the time of publishing this swing is on sale from £89.99 to £79.99.

My daughter is only 3 months old but these products have been saviours. One thing we did buy that I felt was essential was a Poddle Pod (0-6 Months) . I think, because my daughter had colic she wasn't a fan so this really didn't work for us, however I gifted it to a friend and her son LOVED it. It just goes to show that not every product will work for every baby, we much preferred the Sleepyhead Deluxe  for napping. 

I hope that has been helpful for you, shop around and see what works for your family but these types of products have really helped us go from one child to two with less stress even with a colic baby. Do you have any suggestions that could help other families? Please leave them in a comment!

I hope this blog post finds you well and, if not, I hope it leaves you better.


Monday, 4 September 2017

Post natal struggles

It's been a while, I'm sorry...

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Just when my blog was gaining some traction, I had to stop. The reason I stopped is that I became pregnant and it was not expected. 'Oh, what a lovely surprise' they said. 'Fantastic news' they exclaimed. 'You must be so excited!' they insisted. But the truth was, all of that was so far away from anything I was feeling. I looked at my boy barely a year old and I mourned the time I would not be able to give him, I watched him suffer from separation anxiety and generally hate new environments and people and wondered how on earth I would cope if the next one was the same?

And so, that is how I spent my first trimester - worrying. In the second trimester I damaged my back and I was out for four months. Bed rest due to a mass of nerves that had gathered at the base of my spine resulting in a condition called Cauda Equina (I will do a more detailed blog post on this as there isn't much online and it wasn't pleasant). Agony does not begin to explain what I went through, and it was in those agonising months that I began to feel alone as the offers for help with my heavy toddler dwindled and I struggled to cope day to day. I barely had time to think about my poor girl growing inside me with all of the external stressors that were attacking my brain on a daily basis, so when I was once again diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes I damn near had a breakdown. Woe is me, the world is against me and I hate everybody. No one cares, no one understands and most significantly I didn't know how to improve my situation. I had crowds of people around me smiling at me and telling me that I was glowing and filling me in on what I was missing during my time off but the cold, hard fact was that all they were doing was drowning out my desperate urge to tell someone, anyone, that I wasn't coping. I would smile, laugh that this must be a girl because I look so hideous (cue: NO, YOU LOOK FABULOUS! Meanwhile my ashy complexion all but left an ashy trail behind me) and politely enquire about how they were. 

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Would you like to know a secret?

'Tis a truth universally acknowledged that all those women that be with child must be in a constantly and persistently blissful state, and speak only of the blessings that they are grateful for and the love they are now all consumed with. 
Because of this, very rarely do people actually ask a pregnant woman how she is. People care, don't get me wrong, but usually they will say any of the following, in this general order:
How far along are you?
When are you due?
What symptoms have you had?
Are you starting to show yet? 
Oh wow, you're really starting to show, this is really happening isn't it!
Blimey, are you sure there's only one in there?
Is it starting to be uncomfortable?
You look so uncomfortable?
Is s/he here yet? (repeat ad nauseam until baby arrives)

But what of those of us who do not feel that way? Why does no one say, are you ok? It's an open question and the woman can then take that wherever she sees fit, but to ask a pregnant woman how she is without relating it to her unborn child is so rare and yet so necessary. It is, however, a fun way to introduce the expectant mother to the fact that she no longer matters, her sole purpose is the survival and happiness of her child. What an isolating prospect. 

I love my daughter, with all that I have. Now that she is here I can't imagine a world without her, but the fact that I struggled doesn't make me less of a mother, it doesn't make me a bad mother, it just means I struggled. That's all, it really is that simple. 

Post natal depression, post traumatic stress disorder, post partum psychosis, the baby blues. It's all real, it affects so many of us and more and more women are beginning to open up about it but it's not enough, it won't be enough until the stigma is removed from those of us who aren't reacting the way society says we should, for those of us who are struggling and most importantly for those of us who are doing a bloody fantastic job if one would but only take the time to let us know, and help a little if we need. 

So, beautiful person reading this whether you be a mummy, mum to be, or simply a fellow sufferer of the human condition, you are truly not alone. I never thought these things would affect me but it has, and if you are suffering mentally for whatever reason know with the greatest certainty that it is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. There is hope. 

I hope this blog post finds you well and, if not, I hope it leaves you better.

m_ak x

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

Finding 'The One' is so damn hard

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Finding The One is so difficult these days. You're not sure how to approach taking your relationship to the next level and talking about things happening at home or finances. It's a hard situation to read, made only more difficult by the transient nature of people seeking these relationships.

I am, of course, talking about a female BFF.

If you are one of those lucky girls (or guys) who grew up with people who you've stayed in touch with, your lives have taken a similar path and you are still relevant to one another then take a moment to step back and appreciate the beauty of what life has given you. For those of us who moved a lot, had falling outs or just simply lost touch, finding that rock to help you through the hard times can be one of the most difficult, and traumatising, tasks in your adult life. The simple truth is, making friends as an adult is hard.

I'm not talking about work friends that you bitch with in the staff kitchen, or your neighbour who you always make time to stop for, or even the mums at your kids school who you chat to in the playground. I'm talking about the person you can call at midnight because you've had enough of your life and you'd like to fantasise about running away to Ibiza and being a shot girl, the person who will pick you up when your car breaks down on the motorway, the person will dance with you on aisle 7,

Making friends comes so naturally when you are a child, so why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? Simple. We are busy, we are stressed and we are too proud to ask someone if they would like to play today. Fear of rejection is extreme, so what can we do to make it better? How does one make friends as an adult.

Use Apps

Apps such as MeetUp and Mummy Social help massively and will help you to find like minded who are also looking to make a connection and develop friendships. Meetup allows you access to some pretty specific groups of people, so if you are into cars, art or finger painting, there will probably be a group for that.


Volunteering can be incredibly rewarding and there's nothing like meeting socially responsible people who care about stuff. Sometimes it's hard to care about stuff, and meeting these people can give you the motivation to mix up your life a little bit. or it might make you stab yourself in the eyes for being so lazy, it could go either way so... disclaimer!

Take a Class

No one is telling you to get your doctorate, but a class is a great place to meet people. I guess it sort of emulates the last place we felt truly comfortable making friends - school. Make sure that you are going to a class where you can interact with other people like a cooking or language class.

Walk Outside

This may be hard to hear, but if you want to make friends, you're going to have to leave our house. I know, it's not easy. It requires getting dressed, brushing your hair and even smiling, bu it will be totally worth it.

No one is saying that you need to go and make 50 friends to feel cool, you really just have to find that one person that really gets you and you're good to go.

Happy friending

I hope this post finds you well and, if not, I hope it leaves you better.

m_ak x

Tuesday, 25 October 2016

How to cope when your child is a 'slow developer'

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Sweet child, I nurtured you in my womb for almost a year. Every day I dreamed of you, how beautiful your smile would be, how wonderful it would feel to have your tiny fingers wrap themselves around mine and how overwhelmed I would be to hear your voice call 'mama'.

At no point during my dreaming did I think you would sit stubbornly, cute as an angel, and refuse to so much as roll onto your side for the first 8 months of your life. Rude awakening for naive new mum number 1.

I get it though, you will do things in your own time sweet darling. When you are good and ready, I have come to terms with it, so has your dad, but how do we navigate those difficult situations when other people don't seem to be ok with your developmental timeline? Here are some awkward situations and how to deal with them:

1: Baby groups

You are a new mum, armed with leaflets from every baby group in the county and with a schedule rivalled only by that of the military, you are ready to explore with your baby. You will make new mummy friends and go for coffee after the session while your children play peacefully and allow you to drink your beverages at your leisure.

The truth is, when you have the slow baby, people will attack you with a plethora of well intended punches to the gut.

'Oh bless him, he'll get there'
'Oh look how hard he's trying'
'Perhaps he just likes being carried everywhere instead of going on his own'
'Well you know, some babies just don't master these things until much later'

At first I would all but die at these comments, explaining away my child's lack of movement with more and more ridiculous excuses; he's teething' he just woke up, he needs a nap, he's hungry, he just ate, etc etc.

Mum, please stop. Don't explain your child to anyone, if you are genuinely concerned go to your GP or health visitor but DO NOT feel the need to explain why your child is different. Just smile, say 'thanks I'm sure we'll get there eventually' and try to hold the panic explosion for family or friends.

2. Family gatherings

Aunties, uncles, cousins and 'the older generation' will try to entice your child to move, each believing that they have the secret answer to unlocking crawling for your child. When exhausted/frustrated/borderline annoyed that they have failed, they will inevitably look to you and say, 'Ah well, plenty of time, how old is he now?'

Oh, the horror that can be seen in their eyes when you calmly say 'he's 8 months'. They try to hide their shock, act as though they think it's normal when you can see they are thinking your kid is broken.

At first, I would have a little quiver in my voice and queue the excuses from me to explain that my child is normal. It's embarrassing for everyone involved, and while your little cherub dribbles, hiccoughs and falls over onto his side where he will stay because he has no strategy to get up, you just want the Earth to swallow you whole. This was NOT in the plan when you decided to start your family. WTF is happening? What did you do wrong?

You did nothing wrong mummy, the world is shit and people judge but the truth is, at your child's 1 year review crawling is not even something that the child should be able to do, it's just a bonus. Calm down, he'll move, and when he does you will lament the days you could put him down and trust he would still be there when you returned from the toilet.

3. Play dates with mummy friends

You have been friends with these women for years, you know and trust them implicitly. Then, one day, when it becomes apparent that their child is developing faster than yours in one area or another, you see it. The air of superiority, and the condescension kicks in. Stay calm mummy, do not, as I very nearly did, ask if your friend thinks her little girl will ever grow into that nose. Simply talk about the things your child can do and how excited you are for the future, and if she doesn't drop it then drop her. It's not worth it.

Your baby is amazing, HE WILL GET THERE! And if he doesn't, well, there are more ways than one to be extraordinary.

I hope this post finds you well and, if not, I hope it has left you better

m_ak x

The One Year Baby Review

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Line up mummies, form an orderly queue, come on now there are judgements to be passed and assumptions to be made about your ability to parent.

My sons' one year review just happened and I have never been made to feel more unfit to be a parent in my life. It went a little something like this:

The 'Professional': Hello, and this is..?
Me: This is _____ (I see his name on her list but whatever, I'll play along)
The 'Professional': Hello _____, mum why don't you put him on the mat so he can play and I can see him move.
Me: Sure

Child plays happily, rattling things and rolling balls. This is going well, I think, he's being adorable.

The 'Professional': Oh dear, mum remove the dummy
Me: Oh ok, he was a bit upset outside so I let him have it
The 'Professional': So you reward tantrums?
Me: No, but if he's in genuine distress I let him calm himself down with it
The 'Professional': So you do then. OK
Me: *flummoxed*
The 'Professional': (takes toy away from child, he commences screaming) So would you let him get away with a violent tantrum like this? Or is this when we pull out the dummy?

I'll stop here, it carried on in this vein for the next 30 minutes, I was floored. Am I really a terrible mother? Am I cut out for this? Did my child lose the uterus lottery for having been grown inside me?

Now I've had a cup of tea and a biscuit (ok a PACK of biscuits) I wish I could turn back the clock and lay down some truths for her.

My child is a well adjusted, sociable little boy who just so happens to be a complete arsehole from time to time. When this happens, after a long day at work, after bath time and during what should be story time but ends up being devil-child-wants-to-destroy-all-written-words time, yes, i give him the fucking dummy, I cuddle him to sleep AND I even let him sleep next to me so I don't have to get up when he wakes up crying for said dummy.

On the weekend, my husband and I go to great lengths to plan awesome activities for our son so that he can experience new things and so we can just have fun as a family. Usually, this goes swimmingly. My son will flirt with other mums, blow kisses to other children and giggle his little heart out for most of the day. Then there are the times he decides to go nuts. I hate the world, I hate the children, why are the adults looking at me, I hate my pram I want to crawl, why the fuck have you put me on the floor, new decibels of screeching are reached and guess what? I GIVE HIM HIS FUCKING DUMMY. Other people are out to have a good time and my baby is nicer on these days when I let him use it so fuck you judgy lady, my kid is fine.

The problem here is, in fact, you. You did not smile once, you snatched a toy from my sons' hand (I'm trying to teach him to not do that but thanks anyway) and I can only imagine he can feel that I am not happy in this situation. He doesn't like you because you were too rough with him, not because he is 'anti social'.

Thank you for ruining my day, but you have to go on being the miserable person that you are, alienating all those unfortunate to cross your path, but me and my son are off to the park to play and if he hurts himself or gets scared of the geese and has a meltdown, guess what I'm going to do to help him?

I hope this post has found you well and, if not, I hope it has left you better.

m_ak x

Welcome to my little world

Hello! Welcome to my blog, I should probably explain who I am and why I am writing this, so here goes...

I am a 29 year old mum to a 2 little monsters, wife to a husband who breathes a lot and a teacher at a primary school in East London. I was talking to a few friends of mine and it occurred to me how much has happened in my life. I constantly find myself wanting to butt in and say "Yes! I remember when..." but alas, if I want to keep said friends I have to tame the beast that is my ability to talk and placate it somehow. And so here I find myself, armed with a list of stories and anecdotes, some fun, some not, that I would like to share for no other reason than maybe, just maybe, someone felt the same once. Maybe someone went through it and will feel better knowing I felt the same, or will be able to shed some light to help me.

Please feel free to share any of my blogs if you feel that they will be useful to someone, and always, always get in touch should the mood strike. I love connecting with people and honestly, being a mum can be quite lonely.

I hope this post has found you well, and if not, I hope it has left you better.

m_ak x

Micky Flanagan at the O2

I Had A Great Weekend This past weekend (Saturday 16th September) I went to see Micky Flanagan perform at the O2 with my husband for hi...