Why Mummy Drinks..

It’s Sunday. It’s my “day off”. Well a day off from work. But it’s 5.20pm and I have spent nearly three hours doing payroll, managing the next months rotas, drew a fucking boots mind map ( although it is pretty epic ) and I’ve also put washing away, put a new load on, hung that washing up, emptied the dishwasher, cleaned the bits that didn’t clean in the dishwasher (why does that happen?!) cooked pizza, cut pizza into super , tiny slices of pizza fit for a mouse as every slice seems to be “too big” for my 2.5 year old. I have been emailing, texting , messaging the work whatsapp group..

I don’t stop.

And this is why mummy drinks.

Noo is getting through his 50 tiny slices of pizza and it’s taking forever because there are so many god damn slices. Oh, did I mention that he has insisted on having two drinks too? Juice, not Mummy’s kind of drink.. Let’s just clear that up.

I am half way through my HR degree. It’s great. Very informative. Lots to learn. Just love it when I have 12 hours to write a 4500 word essay as I’ve left it to last minute as I haven’t had a day off or even a minute to sit down in the last 986 days. Yeah that’s right, the age of my child. 621 days back to full time employment. 305 days doing my HR degree, and 274 days of my retail NVQ .

This is why Mummy drinks.

Above everything else, I have a wedding to plan. 265 days.

To be fair, we’re pretty on schedule. Although the copious amounts of pom poms I have hand made over the last year is beyond belief , check out my insta for pom pom updates LOL.

How do I fit it all in?

I drink and believe I am superwoman.

I never knew how much I actually do until a Sunday, because on a Sunday I have to not only finalise the last week of work but plan ahead for the next week. It never ends. I also have to change pants (Nicky’s not mine) , watch The Bee Movie (Sunday favourite, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, you get it) , build a train track , do painting, play playdoh (although that is Matt’s favourite) , take the boys out shopping for food , do washing for the week, study , tidy up , sort recycling , bathtime, milktime, bedtime, be a mum , and be a partner.

Nicky got upset earlier as I wouldn’t give him a third bowl of skips.. don’t judge that I gave him two.. I mean skips are made of air, but three really?! I can’t even manage that. His poo will ultimately smell like prawn.

It’s 5.50pm and pizza has finally finished . Behind me is the TV playing the most annoying American baby songs. I watched American Horror Story earlier, I can only imagine what kind of nightmares I will be having tonight… Floating giant men with the background music of “pjammas are good for you, monkeys like pjammas, we like them now”.

Thank the lord that Matt cooks for us, I mean I would just die. Actually to be fair, if I cooked , we would die.

I just had the poo summons.

Yep, you guessed it, smelt like prawn.

And this is why Mummy drinks.

Over and out.

Why Mummy Drinks...


What makes a good mum?

It’s been a year since I last wrote ! A whole year! And it only seems like a week.

Every minute , every hour , every single day is passing by like a blur . Why can’t it just slow down for just one moment ?!

Noo is now talking. Well, I say talking.. he knows words and words that only my partner and I can understand but he’s getting there . And counting to ten! How did that happen? Why isn’t he struggling to roll back over onto his front like a turtle in distress anymore?

I’ve taken on a lot at work. I’ve gone back full time and in the past year , I’ve gone from managing one store to three. To starting an NVQ and taking on a degree . I’m beginning to realise that I do a lot outside of home . A LOT. And it has taken its toll on my home life. I want to succeed for my family and ultimately I want to succeed for myself.

My anxiety makes me nervous. It also makes me a perfectionist . And it’s a fucking nightmare. I can’t be great at my job and be a great mum , a great partner , a great friend , all at the same time. And it’s difficult to make that balance .

Noo under no doubt has the most happiest life. We have been so truly blessed with who he has become to be. And I take advantage of that. I take advantage of the fact that he’ll be happy wherever he is. I’ll go to work on my days off. I’ll work extra hours. I’ll work a 60 hour week without a second thought. Because I know he’ll be ok.

But am I ?

It’s really difficult for me to work with the struggles I face with daily . I want to be the best for everyone. And the majority of the time I know I’m not.

Noo needs me to be happy. To be confident in my life balance . And at the moment I’m struggling to find what that is.

I miss him.

His little nods. His giggle. When he farts and thinks it’s hilarious . When he just wants a cuddle. When he argues when a van is a bus when it is actually a van. When he says thank you. Says thank you to everyone and anyone . When I mention we might go out and he brings me my shoes , daddy’s shoes , his shoes and his backpack and we’re not actually going out for another 4 hours , when he recites the alphabet with only 2 letters, when he asks to go in mummy and daddy’s bed , when he snores .

That makes me happy . Noo makes me happy. Knowing noo is happy , makes me happy. Watching him grow makes me happy.

I work a lot yes. I study a lot yes. But I also play as much as I can . I teach as much as I can. When he stays at grandmas , I call him as much as I can. Because being a good mum is being happy . Being a good mum because your baby is happy. And noo is still my baby . He will always be my baby and I will always do my absolute best to keep him happy. Even if that means giving in and saying a van is a bus.


Juggling work and home life.

I haven’t written in a while. And I guess that’s because I haven’t been sure on what to say.

I’ve been back at work , full time, for six months now. And it’s great. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

I absolutely love my job. And I always want to do my best. I want to be best. I want to work hard to provide for my family. And with that, it comes with a price.

There are some days where I see my little man for only half an hour, an hour tops. I leave at 8 and get back at 7. I miss breakfast and bedtime.

I have one day a week where I get to spend the entire day with him. One day. One day where I should devote the entire day to him. But I don’t.

I have one day a week to do housework. To visit friends . To visit family. He doesn’t get me all to himself. And I don’t get him all to myself.

And I feel awful about that.

I feel awful if I leave chores. I feel awful if I don’t get to visit friends. To visit family. To get a load of washing on. To hoover. To play fire stations or truck races.

How can I give it 100% to him when I need to fulfil my role at home life too?

I wish I had more time with him. I miss him every single day I’m at work. I miss him every single minute I’m late back. I miss him every time i choose to meet a friend after work.

But where does the balance start where it’s all acceptable?

My anxiety makes this a lot worse . I get anxious that I don’t see him enough. I get anxious that I need to succeed at work but can’t if I have to stay home.

It’s never ending . And I feel like I can’t win.

What’s best?

The time I spend with my little solider is undoubtedly the best time I ever have. And he comes with me wherever we go on my day off and he absolutely has the best time. He loves going outside, he loves meeting new people , he loves seeing friends and family , and most importantly , he loves being happy.

Being back at work hasn’t changed who he is. And I wouldn’t change that for the world . I have the most happiest son I could ever have asked for. And yeah, I work a hell of a lot. And yeah, we have busy days when we’re together. But, on that very rare occasion where we have a whole day just two of us, it’s fucking brilliant . And I absolutely love the fact we get that.

Yes mummy works full time. But mummy is bloody great at being a mummy.

And we have the best time ever.


Mother’s Day

Today was my second Mother’s Day. Today was a really lovely day. Today my little solider bought me lots of gifts and even signed the card . Today was the mark of strength. Today proved that I can do anything.

Last year on Mother’s Day, a man publicly shamed me for breastfeeding while in a pub. My first ever Mother’s Day. My first time out. My first time feeling brave. I had never felt so hurt, so sad, so humiliated.

I was so excited about going out with my little one, who was five weeks old at the time, and we were having the best time ever. We were celebrating. We were being a family. Never did I know that the next day it was all going to be ruined.

The next morning I had a knock on the door from a reporter. I was so confused at the time, she went on to tell me about a neighbour of mine shaming a woman breastfeeding in a pub. I didn’t think anything of it really, until I googled it. Then realisation hit me. It was me. It was me he was shaming.

I will never , ever forget that moment. How could someone do that to a young mother ? A first time mother ? On Mother’s Day?

Anyway, the next few weeks were tough. I was paranoid. I didn’t want to go out in public. I didn’t want to do anything. It was on This Morning for crying out loud. I felt ashamed. I felt confused. I felt betrayed. Betrayed by humanity.

But you know what? I grew strong. I grew brave.

And to the man who has no respect to Mother’s feeding their child, to the man who thinks it’s OK to publicly shame Mother’s feeding their child, to the man to obviously lives in the first ever century, to the man who lives directly opposite me… you didn’t beat me. In fact, you made me a stronger person. A stronger Mum. And now I feel I can do anything.

So in a way, I thank you for being a complete and utter old fashioned arse because , I feel fucking great. So cheers !!


Day Thirty One

Day Thirty One

“We all make mistakes, sometimes terrible, horrible, life-changing mistakes, but remember, that’s what makes you human and it’s okay. Know that”.

From the first day I started feeling weird, a bit like I was on a different planet, somewhere that I wasn’t fit to be in, I thought I had made a mistake. Why was it OK that I had a baby and was going to bring him up in a world where I didn’t understand, where I didn’t know of what I was doing was right. Why would I do that to him? Why would I allow that to happen ? Surely that is absolutely unfair to the little , tiny human that should have the best in life. And I couldn’t do that for him. I wasn’t going to be the Mum he deserves. He deserved the best. The best mum in the world. And I just wasn’t that.


Since writing this blog, I have grown so much as a person . And so much as a new Mum. I have undoubtedly had the best year of my life, and also the most hardest, most terrifying year of my life. I admit , there have been times where I wanted to give up. Where I wanted to hand my baby back. Because I felt like I wasn’t good enough. And I did want what was best for my son. And at the time I wasn’t that.

My little solider is now a year old. A YEAR OLD! And he is the most happiest , smiliest, funniest little human I have ever met. And that’s because of me.

I admit there have been times where I have made countless mistakes , because everything was new. I had never done this before. And that’s what scared me. I hadn’t had this confidence before . I hadn’t had this knowledge before.

I mean there are still times where I have to take a step back and think oh my god what am I doing?! Because I am still learning. And I have to remind myself that I have done a fucking good job this past year. Through all the tears and meltdowns , through all the door slamming and near walk outs, we have done the best we can. And that is what counts.

I feel so proud of myself. I am so proud of my partner who has put up with all my shit and helped and guided me through this. I am so proud of my son. I am proud of our family.

We will continue to make mistakes as that is what life is. We make them and we learn from them. And that is what this past year has taught me. And that’s what has made me stronger. And happier.

PND will always be there. I still have days where I want to do a runner or hide in a hole for a week. But I now have the strength to battle past that.

Writing has saved me. Writing down and sharing my story has helped me. And I hope that I have helped other mums out there who have felt the same way I did. And I want you to know that it is OK to feel the way you do. Because you are only human. We have feelings that we can’t control and don’t understand. And it is scary. But, there is help out there . Stay strong, speak out and be brave. You can do it.


Day Twenty Eight

Day Twenty Eight.

“Make boundaries. Trying to please everyone will not make you feel nourished or happy. Set your boundaries and stick to them. Best thing you can do for yourself”.

I’ve had anxiety for as long as I can remember . I most probably had it as soon as I came out of the womb. So I’ve always been a very reserved person, which means I have boundaries for everything.

One of my biggest fears is socialising. Socialising especially with people I do not know. So I set boundaries to not do that. Not to push myself too far . And it’s difficult . Especially since having a baby. There are so many baby groups it’s unreal. I said from the beginning that I’ll try. I’ll try and go to at least one group. Try and make new friends .

I never have.

We go to Water Babies every week which I suppose counts .. and I struggle every single week. It takes me at least four days to the run up of actually going to calm myself . We’re on our third term and I still can’t really cope with it all. But I go. Even though my mum comes along with me. I know how much she enjoys coming , but I need that person close to me, near by. And that is enough for me.

Today I went to a baby Christmas party. By myself. It was fucking terrifying. The friend I was originally going with had to unfortunately cancel, and instead of my usual “phew, I can stay in and hide from everyone”, I went. By myself. And oh my God I panicked. I over stepped my usual boundaries . Because I wanted to do it for my son. He had a Christmas jumper he was just eager to wear (he told me obviously..) and there was free cake.

It was tough. I didn’t know anyone and my little man was a bit sleepy. But, he played and seemed to actually enjoy himself. He had a free gingerbread man which he was just ecstatic about and there was Christmas music and lights and oh so many toys.

Sometimes I have to go over my usual boundaries not because I have to, because I want to. I want to do things for my son. I want him to enjoy every little thing possible. And I know how much he loves gingerbread , so obviously we had to go today!

However nerve wracking it was , I can say that I went . I went by myself . We played , we ate , we had fun. And I can be proud about what I did today. It’s another tick off the list. Even though I burst into tears as soon as we left, I am proud of myself.

Probably won’t do anything like that for a while… but for the meantime I can say that I did something mentally challenging , I beat my anxiety for just that moment and I watched my son enjoy his party. Our party.


Day Twenty Seven 

Day Twenty Seven. 

“Allow yourself to be vulnerable. Break down those walls and barriers every now and then and let others in. Don’t hide. Don’t suppress. Let love in”.

Every day I feel vulnerable . I mean, I still don’t know what I’m doing. Every day is new. Every day is different. Every day is a bit hard. But, every day is good. 

I have very tall , thick walls surrounding me. And in all honesty sometimes I feel more comfortable leaving them there. It’s easier for everyone. Once a brick falls off, I want to instantly put it back. It opens up a problem. An issue. Something I don’t want to address. 

But, these past few months I have tried so hard to let other bricks fall. I am in a much better place and I have to remind myself that it’s OK that I still have days that are a bit hard and I can talk about it with others, especially my partner. 

There was a time where I felt alone. Where my wall was so high that it was dark. Because I mentally couldn’t let anyone in. I had left it too long and I had given up. 

I thank my partner for everything. He finally got me to believe that I wasn’t alone. I did have people who were around to help. Who loved me. Who wanted to help to make it brighter for me. 

I hid away for so long and even thinking about it makes my heart ache. Why did I do that to myself? Why did I do that to my son? Why did I do that to everyone who cares for me? 

Because I was ill. Because I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Because I was embarrassed. I was ashamed and I was hurting. So I hid. 

I can admit now that even though I feel so much better, I do still have those days where my vulnerability takes it’s toll and I feel weak and useless. But, all I can do is keep going. 

My little solider is nearly 9 months old. He is an absolute character and he makes my world so much brighter. He makes me let love in and keep it there. He shows me that it’s OK to feel vulnerable at times, who’s more vulnerable than him right now? I have to show him how the world works. What it means to be happy and to be loved. 

I honestly can not thank my family and friends enough who have been there and helped me through this difficult time. I didn’t seek any medical help. I self helped. I have used the love around me to help. And I don’t think I would have had it any other way.