fun.

Bribery Uncut: A Mummy Diary

Day 1

Text to The Hub:

Cookies, Bribes, Mum Life

(Yes, I’ve realised how sad it is that we text each other emojis. We don’t get out much, least of all with each other, and chatting face to face is so 2007!)

He comes down the stairs from having (what I can only imagine of course) the biggest shit ever or just from his “go to” hiding place with a smirk on.

“I can’t get your children dressed. They just won’t move!” I moan. Notice how I call them his children? They are only mine when they are asleep or doing something brainy, like puzzles or not picky their nose.

“Come on girlys up the stairs.” He asks lightly, and they JUMP UP! No questions ask.

How the &^%$ does he do it? Does he have a magic wand I don’t know about? Do they just like him better? (It’s possible)

Oh well, he can be parent number 1 today, and I’ll go hide in the kitchen and pretend I’m actually cooking something organic.

Day 2

Kids at Grandmas. Don’t care! Whoop!

Day 3: Now named The Day from Hell

Despite a crappy night of musical beds and a 5 am wake-up, both kids are pretty chipper. That’s in till I mention we need to go shopping and suddenly limbs have fallen off, making walking impossible and they now only reply in one tone: screams.

The only thing that calms us all down is some well-deserved iPad time and a cookie for me. Screw the diet, and anyway, calories don’t count if they’re eaten before 8 am right?

 

Cookies, syn, eating, free

How long do you think a 4-year-old and 2-year-old would want to watch a sodding unpacking of a Kinder egg for?

cookie, brain, dead, asleep

Yep, I was pretty surprised too.

Day 4

We all felt rather wobbly and queasy as a result of a second night of musical beds and the over indulgence of unwrapping videos and cookies.

To ensure we got a better night tonight, I did the unthinkable and told them I would share my cookies if they promised to sleep tonight.

After a lot of pinky promises and nodding from the kids, I throw play-doh, cookies, and my phone at them and try to avoid getting cracked over the back of the head with it all.

Day 5

Had a slightly better night but feeling a bit stressed. When I don’t sleep I get stressed then cry. A lot. Normally only over the big things, though, like running out of The Big 3 (Cookies, Cake and Coke.) I can actually face most things in life like a ninja, but without The Big 3, well, I’m a mess!

Today I have to try and get two kids out the door, on time, looking presentable i.e no PJs and hair brushed.

Then I remember The Hub did the shopping yesterday, so I can now fulfill my master plan…

 

Eating cookies, happy mum, bribery works

No not that. Even though that would be sweet as! No. I’m going to bribe my way through it and hope for the best.

Want to see how I got on?

(Disclaimer: I was given all these cookies by Maryland to review. They where lush.)

23 Things I’ve Learnt After Surviving My First Six Week Holiday

First off, that title is whack, as it’s not really six weeks, is it? It’s bloody eight weeks, taking into account all the shitting insert days and half days.

Don’t get me wrong, we’ve had a blast and I’ve been mega lucky to have had The Hub home for two of those eight weeks. We weren’t brave enough to go away (I’m not suicidal) but we did some good old day trips while each taking it in turns to cross off a day on the calendar.  September will come damn it!

Anyway, I just thought I’d give you a heads up on some of the things I’ve learned during my first kid infested six-week headache holiday….

1. By day four, you’re begging preschool to reopen.
2. You’ll roll your eyes more times than you blink.

3. And argue over who packs the car just to get out of watching The Kid take her third dump of the day.

4. Packing for a trip to the international space station for six months would be easier than packing for a day out with toddlers.

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Review: The Unsung Mum and the Trampoline Test

In between the yelling, sobbing and the frantic Googling ‘are my children bloody normal’, The Unsung Mum has spent much of the six weeks’ holiday trying to be cool and fun.

So when The Unsung Mum was offered her first PR review, for Oxygen Free Jumping no less, she felt smugly clever and accepted with swag.

Having just lived through the longest summer holiday of her life, sustained only by the tiniest hope that September would eventually come, The Unsung Mum grabbed the opportunity to tire her feral kids out with two hands, and feet, if she could have managed it.

Entering into this wondrous new world of hot teenage referees telling your children off for you while still looking like something out of GQ magazine has amazed her.

She thought places like this were a myth, somewhere between kids sleeping through the night at six weeks old and not running off in M&S. Yes, today The Unsung Mum discovered what she could only call a bloody miracle.

The Unsung Mum weeps with joy as she surveys the plush blue seats and delicious looking cake that is sweetly singing her name.

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