Hi there my Slummy Chummies!
Pictured above are the prizes that one lucky winner will receive in this big Christmas Giveaway! Its another collab with Beauty Loves and to find out how to enter, and for the rules of the competition, please visit the Big Christmas Giveaway over on My Beauty Loves.
It's important to read the rules carefully to see how, and how many times to enter - please do read ALL the rules, as we would hate to disappoint any of our readers, as this giveaway is to give a big THANKS to all of you for following us and reading our blogs!
So just to let you know what you will win, it will be all the items in the picture which add up to the value of just over £140, and are as listed below:
1. Size 12 hot pink Lipsy bodycon-style minidress with removable straps
2. New Look black patent quilted handbag
3. Inglot Freedom Palette with 5 eyeshadows - chosen by me, 4 mattes and 1 shimmer, to be all you'll ever need for a daytime or evening look, with the superb quality known from Inglot
4. Benefit Fine One One brightening cheek & lip colour for lift, shape & pop
5. Rimmel's famous Stay Matte face powder in Transclucent
6. Revlon Just Bitten Kissable Balm Stain in Cherish/devotion
There is an important Christmas message to share with you, which is over on the post on My Beauty Loves, so please do make sure you read the post before entry!
Remember, check the rules of entry HERE and good luck, I hope the winner feels like a Yummy Mummy instead of a Slummy one for once!
Take care Chummies and see you over on Twitter and Facebook!
I was thinking about something Christmassy to write about today, but as everyone I know is putting up their tree and decorations - in NOVEMBER! - I thought I'd wait until the actual month Christmas is in. Don't infer by my sentence that I'm a Scrooge, nope, I LOVE Christmas which is why I keep our tree up in January! Which has nothing at all to do with the fact that I really can't be bothered to put all the decs away and find real homes for the Christmas presents.....nothing to do with that at all...I'm just full of Christmas cheer is all!
Instead I started thinking about how often my kids tell me off! I seem to revert so some strange inner child/teenager when rowing with the kids. Instead of adult calm, reasonable talk, I usually answer "because I said so and I'm boss, so I rule, right?" & then stick my tongue out. I think this is because I'm clearly trying to get down to a child's level in order to crack them. I'm essentially a child terrorist, and all the things that drive me to distraction, I throw right back at them! Take THAT eh?
But I often wonder who the parent is....obviously my kids don't swear (apart from that incident at nursery with Mental at age 3, when he swore loudly 3 times - just incase we could find a way to talk our way out of the first 2 - then there was the time I picked him up and laughing loudly at their music playing in the classroom said "Ah, the theme to Big Cook, Little Cock! We love that in our house! Haha". Yes, cringe, because thats what I did, the EVILS I got, like I MEANT to shout out the names for a male member on purpose! We moved nurseries soon after, I don't think we were the clientele they were after...).
But my kids have the ability to hear me swear, even if I whisper, out of range, or just make the noise of the word, or simply MOUTH the word to my friends! They are like lip-reading ninjas with bionic hearing! "Aw Mummy, that's a swear!! You can't say that!!", hands on hips, like they're the Mum police.
I reply, as always, in my most adult, calm manner "Actually, yes I CAN swear, because I'm an adult. You are kids so you can't swear, and I tell you what to do so shh. Or you'll get no Christmas presents from Santa!" 😏 I know right, bringing Santa into it, ingenious!
I was driving along the other day and its fair to say I have my fair share of road rage, nothing abnormal, just you know, when people aim and drive at my car or refuse to acknowledge my existence on the roads just because I own a small car! (My baby, Fiat 500, pale blue, with a disco ball on the aerial, of course!)
Some idiot cut me up as usual and I had to slam the brakes on. "Indicate!!" I shouted out at the top of my voice, to hear my eldest take a gasp and shout out "Mummy!!"
"Er, yes Sensible, that's my name!"
Sensible: "You just said a swear!"
I racked my brains and was pretty sure I didn't drop the F bomb..."Er, no I didn't!"
"Yes you did Mummy!"
"No I bloody well did not!" (The irony was lost on him...)
"You DID Mummy!"
"Ok then Cleverclogs, what did I say??!"
"I can't say it Mummy, its a swear!"
"But I didn't say a swear!"
"Yes you did!"
"I did not, but I'm about to! Tell me the swear, you won't get in trouble this time because I'm asking you, because I don't recall any swear words coming out of my mouth!!"
I was so confused at this point and thinking "please don't say the F word oh innocent child of mine!"
"Mummy, you said.....indicate!"
"Er, that's not a swear...."
"Yes it is!"
"No, it most definitely is not!"
It went on for some time, turns out because I'm cross with the other driver and shouting out the word 'indicate' quite a lot, usually followed by a muttered "idiot" which although not a swear word, IS a banned word in this house unless I'm making a joke about any villages missing theirs....so, because I only ever used the word when shouted it every time someone nearly wrote off my car, he thought it must be a swear word (incidentally, the amount of people trying to drive into you is quite high here in Cheshire, I used to feel paranoid then realised that whoever had designed the road systems round my way clearly did so when they were totally, paralytically drunk, on drugs or blatantly missing vital areas if their brain. Either way, they clearly wanted cars to regularly collide!)!
I remember my dad going spare the first time I dropped the F bomb in front of him when I was 18 and refused my argument of the fact I was now legally an adult so could do what I want. Now I've gone over to 3 little people going spare if I so much as say something with the wrong tone to it! I constantly feel like a sulky 14 year old again, not allowed to say what I want! I'm being controlled by people 30 years younger than me!! And half my height! I feel like I'm being policed by Oompa Loompas!
Did I say I wasn't a Scrooge?!? Well, bah humbug!!
This may upset delicate stomachs, clean minds and contains swearing, exasperation, and a fair bit of faeces. I'm sorry, but my job is to be honest.....
As per last nights convo over on Facebook (do 'Like' my page, I promise my conversations are usually much cleaner than this! Honest!) about analytics, search, and the child that pooped and kicked it into a wall (I'm still not getting it but I'm am SO glad it wasn't my child!), and the fact my house is actually called "the house of poo" by many of my friends (I could get paranoid, but everyone here does shit on a fairly regular basis, and including the pets there are 9 living creatures living here, so someone at one point is shitting), there is just no escape!
I'm getting seriously fed up of cleaning up poo!
I thought I was DONE with that, but no....will it ever end?! 😫 Today seriously takes the biscuit....
My dog has had the squits today, about 10 times, all over the hardstand next to my house. My little shovel was not up to the job so I had to scrub the whole place down with soapy water and a brush.
My little kitten who was (WAS!!!) fully housetrained has been ill lately and has been squatting all around the litter tray to poo (when I say poo, I mean foul diarrhoea stuff!) 💩 - there's a poop emoticon here but not a green spewy face?! Anyhoo....
So I think, ok, maybe the other cat's using the tray when she wants to go, so I bought a new litter tray, placed it in the place she's been pooing, on top of a large bedmat just incase, and sat back and awaited a fully continent kitty. However, not only had kitty shit IN the brand new litter tray, she then overlooked the large clean litter tray next to it, scratched the bedmat out of the way, and shat under it. 3 fucking times. 😡
I'm starting to lose my cool....
I then come to bed to find one of my delightful children had snuck into my bed and done a little poop. In my bed. Poo, in my actual bed. It may have been a rabbit dropping, but it was still poop, and it was still in my bed.
I just wanted to go to bed!! 😖
So after a very thorough clean up operation (I'm starting to stockpile spewed on sheets and pooed on sheets, I'm going to run out of sheets!), finally a clean child in a clean bed, I pop for a wee and a tooth brushing. Only, I can't do that, oh no, did you think it would really be that easy?!?
Nope, if course it couldn't be that easy, don't you understand my life yet?! No, another child who suffers from constipation has had his weekly poop, and by poop I mean 2 foot long log. Followed by an entire rainforest worth of toilet tissue. I flushed, pretty hopelessly, and my toilet filled up with water, loo roll and a log. And refused to go down.
So, first port of call. A bucket full of water poured from a great height. Usually enough force to flush the bugger out - its a weekly event. I tried this 10 times and was virtually crying at this point, so I had to bring the big guns out.
The only way it was going down was to plunge the living crap, quite literally, out of the toilet. I plunged, I was splashed with shitty water. I plunged approximately 30 more times before I felt the sweet blessed relief, and noise, of a blockage clearing and sucking the water, loo roll and giant log down so violently I thought there'd be a backlash (or backsplash). But thankfully, it stopped there.
I've now been continuously clearing up shit pretty much all day, but non stop for the last two hellish hours. My hands are like claws, dried out from the vigorous scrubbing in scalding water and disinfectant, many many times, just incase I put my hand near my mouth or anything. And two hours after I started my journey, I can finally go to bed!
What a SHIT day, and nope, do NOT pardon the pun, its what my life is now...
If you ever come to my house, whatever you do, do NOT touch the plunger behind the sink in the bathroom......😱
So, you know how I mentioned I was a terrible cook and my kids even hated my hotdogs? (See HERE for the article) Well, tonight the majority of the kids requested hotdogs....so, fine, they normally have a sandwich for tea as they have cooked dinners at school, but ok, I can do hotdogs! Well, as good as I do any cooking....
So middle child, Mental, starts screeching "no, no, I hate hot dogs, I don't want any!" like I'd just requested a kidney off him.
I asked "but not even just the frankfurter? Its hot dogs in proper hot dog rolls?!" (Once I ran out of long hot dog rolls, and they ended up with frankfurters in baps instead, which was apparently the most treacherous thing you could do with frankfurters even though it was still bread but the wrong shape!), you know, just trying to cajole him into eating the same thing as everyone else - I'd had eldest off school sick for 2 days, had spent an inordinate amount of time scrubbing spew out of the new Solar System bedroom rug, and had been traipsing to and fro the vets with a sick kitten so really, I just wanted for once to make 4 of the same things instead of one Nutella sandwich without butter, one cheese spread sandwich WITH butter and one without butter, and a jam sandwich (always with butter, who could eat a jam butty without butter?!). But noooo.......he wanted a butty instead (Nutella, no butter, just incase you were wondering, although I'm sure you weren't, but I'm nothing if not thorough).
So I duly made his requested butty/sandwich/sarnie (depending on whereabouts you're from) and made hot dogs for the rest of us. As it turns out, I only had enough rolls for 3 of us so I thought that it was quite handy actually. So I sat down to eat my only meal of the day of 2 hotdogs. One bite. That was all I had. One poxy bite. I was STARVING. Well, I wasn't starving as in the actual definition of the word to be honest, as I've got enough fat reserves to keep a small village in Alaska going for the winter, but you know, I was pretty hungry!
Mental looked at my plate and started to sob......upon asking what the random outburst of crying was for, I was then told that he didn't know it was THOSE hotdogs! 'Those' hotdogs being normal frankfurters in normal hot dog rolls, rolls that were the right shape and not baps, which were the wrong shape and made hot dogs inedible (apparently).
So I stared down at my 1 and 7/8ths of hotdogs left on my plate and forced myself to say "fine. Do you want my hotdogs?".
Never have I so wanted him to say "oh no Mummy, of course not, I'm perfectly full up on my butty of Nutella and no butter, you haven't eaten all day, please go ahead and enjoy the fruits of your labour".....or even a "oh thank you so much kind and generous Mummy, I'd quite like one but you MUST have the other!".
Needless to say he did not say either of those things and I handed over my plate, as all Mums would do of course. I felt a moment of pride for doing such a selfless thing when I had hunger pangs so bad it felt like a rat was gnawing on my insides, and then I thought...."Well, I'd best order myself a Dominos when the kids are in bed then!"
I felt kind of guilty thinking that, but you know, not THAT guilty....after all, I've already done my good deed of the day! 😉
Hi there my fellow Chummies!
It feels like FOREVER since I've posted, and it has been a while actually, but I was ill again at the end of last week, this time it was the random winter sick bug! You know, where the kids moan and groan but don't actually throw up, and the minute you're thinking "yeah, got away with THAT one thank god", you get hit yourself with it and make up tenfold for the lack of vomiting from the kids. I think the thing I was most annoyed at was the pure waste of the chocolate cake that I'd eaten. Gutted.
So, anyway, yesterday was parents evening. I say evening, it was supposed to be afternoon, from 3.50pm to 4.30pm - 10 minutes per child, 3 kids. Well it took me until 5pm to get out of school with my 3 delightful children, 1 hour and 45 minutes of torture from my kids. And yes, when I say 'delightful' I mean worse behaved than Lucifer, Satan, The Devil, The Dark Lord, whatever you call him, my kids would've kicked his butt big time!
So, the teachers actually praised my kids, telling me how well they were doing, hiding it badly when they tried their hardest to be diplomatic about their atrocious handwriting, but never the less very positive reviews of their work and how nice and polite and helpful they are at school. So I've taught them well, they can fool other people into thinking they're polite! Quick learners, my lot!
Now while I awaited my precious 10 minutes to bathe in the glory of the hard work I'd put into making my kids maths geniuses, we got to sit and look at all their school books. Is it just me, or do you always look for the inappropriate things they write? The winner of this years Accidental Swearing Award goes to my youngest, Satan, who wrote that her Learning Initiative was "Shat activities"! I don't know what they are but I'm pretty sure its not on the national curriculum. I also showed my own mature sense of humour (ha ha!) by asking her teacher, at the first opportunity, if she'd noticed that my daughter had written "Shat" in her book......Always goes down well, that one! A few years ago my son misspelt the word next to a picture of a sock and wrote "cock". What was even funnier is that there was a picture of a fan below it, making it look like he'd written "cock fan" which had me in stitches. Last year, after my divorce, it was middle child's turn. He didnt swear but he wrote a list of who was in our family, and although he remembered to put the family pets and siblings he hates, he glaringly obviously missed out his Dad. Which again, as I have a puerile sense of humour,, I found quite funny, so he was forgiven for missing out the Accidental Swearing.
So the part that was hell was, well, the kids are supposed to sit quietly with you, then carry on sitting quietly when you go in to see the teacher, right?? That's what they're SUPPOSED to do. What actually happened is they all went completely hyper and, along with some other hyper children, started tearing round the school hall. Which was a relief for me as I could then actually read their books and take sneaky photos of accidental swearing, like the good Mum I am (oh, I'm saving these all for their 21sts....😈). They were hastily kicked out of the hall approximately 4 times for being hyper and screaming. Apparently my pretending they weren't mine didn't really work either....so all the time every teacher was telling me how well behaved my kids were, they were all running round like little vandals on a sugar high, knocking people flying and yelling like Apache Indians....Satan was playing with a little girl who she managed to send flying into a bench, which was highly embarrassing as I'd been having quite a good chat with her Mum, who then clearly thought I was one of those people who couldn't control their kids (again, to be fair, I was just letting the noise ride over me, like I do at home!), and poor Mental came running in crying with his boxer shorts pulled up to his armpits, a la Simon Cowell, because Sensible had given him a wedgie, then every 5 minutes kept coming back in with various shoes missing as Sensible was stealing them and hiding them. In and out, yelling and squawking, then Satan performing death defying chair leaping stunts which left me with a tension headache as I envisioned her landing face first on the coat hooks and impaling herself on them. There was a whole storyline from 'Casualty' running through my head!
I ended up speaking to them through that smile, you know, the gritted teeth, wait til you get home kind of smile. If I wasn't divorced it would be a "wait til I tell your father" kind of smile. Either way, they knew they were in deep shit.
One teacher refused to believe that the lovely, kind, gentle, caring little boy in her class was actually capable of giving his younger brother a wedgie or stealing his shoes.
So I left there with 3 teachers thinking my kids were great, which is nice. The rest of the teachers thought they were little shites however, and they were frogmarched back to the car where I gave them a piece of my mind, followed by the ultimate punishment. Oh yes, yes I did! I banned the Xbox! Mwahahahaha! Take THAT you little gits, maybe next time you'll behave in public! Hah! You've thought I'd taken away their limbs! Or at least their thumbs, they sat staring at them, not quite knowing what to DO with them! What DID we do with our thumbs before computer games or texting?!
Next time I'm going to think ahead and do what everyone else did. Either get a babysitter, or take lots and lots of food, because if they're busy eating, then my middle child's shorts will stay where they are and he won't be left walking and talking with a squeak!
Until next time Slummies.....
Hi there Slummy Chummies!
Now, you'll have to excuse this post, it's one I wrote earlier but for reasons unknown to me, would just NOT post on my blog so I published it on Facebook instead! But I still think its worthy of its own post as planned so I'm putting it on here.
It's also slightly unusual post from me in that it mainly isn't based on bodily fluids or having to clear them up (although there has been plenty of that today!), but its an almost serious post for once! These posts will happen, although few and far between, because its not that often I'm philosophical or actually sensible in any way. Really, its not. That's not to say its a SERIOUS post, just lacking the usual snips and sarcasm! So onwards with the post we go!
So......does anyone else have a "no rule day"?? Or is it just us?
Every Saturday in my house is no rule day, for me, and for the kids,
They don't have to do homework, they can stay in PJs, they can play computer games or Lego, or stay in bed all day reading a good book. We don't eat normal breakfast, lunch, dinner. We eat when we are hungry. Sweets (to a degree!) are allowed, biscuit tins are a free for all, there are no chores, they don't even need to brush their hair. They can watch crap TV and eat crisps. We have takeaway for dinner, and have pudding too. We pay a silly amount that we can't afford, to get the buy before release films off sky and stay up late watching them. They play with the iPads in bed until they fall asleep and drop them on the floor.
Saturday is no rule day. No one takes the piss, arguments don't happen, everyone eats and gets washed, everyone chills out and feels relaxed. We don't go anywhere unless we want to. We all stay up late and snuggle under a blanket watching our late night films and eating chocolate or snacks.
The other 6 days a week we get up, get washed and dressed, do our chores, tidy up, earn stars for pocket money and good behaviour rewards, do as we are told, argue, eat breakfast for breakfast, eat lunch for lunch and dinner for dinner, all at the proper times. We sort out uniforms, we do homework, we do baths and hair washes, we do laundry sorting, we do what we are SUPPOSED to do.
Today is Saturday. It's now nearly 1.30pm. We are going to eat something shortly because we are hungry. We haven't had breakfast because we didn't want any. We are having breakfast cereal and lollipops for our late 'lunch'. And then we will wash our faces and brush our teeth. And whilst I may have washing to put on and washing up to do, everything else can sit and wait. For the other 6 days a week when it cannot.
Saturdays are no rule days. And no rule days rule.
Let it never change.
Saturdays are our real family time. Everyone's happy and there's never any rows on a Saturday. Everyone goes to bed happy and with a smile on their face.
The rest of the time we are always rushing to beat deadlines - we have to be ready for the school run, we have to be at work on time, we have to get the uniforms ready on time, we have to feed the kids as soon as they are home so they don't waste away (apparently!), we have to return things, post things, pick up things, drop off things, wrap things, tidy things, sort through things, put things away, pay bills, go shopping, just DO things.
One day a week where you take every single pressure off you and do what you want really recharges the batteries. Doesn't necessarily mean doing nothing, I fancied sorting out some of the toys today and Satan helped me, and a box of toys that have been sat in my front room FOREVER got sorted, we did it because we wanted to and we achieved something, there were no frayed tempers, because we didnt have to, we could have stopped if we wanted.
Its funny how much you get done when you free your mind from your own self-imposed restraints. Start it next week. It will feel weird, wrong somehow, you'll tap your fingers thinking of all the chores you need to get done. Just hold back, don't give in, sit and watch your children, sit on their tiny chairs and colour in with them. Show them how to draw. When they ask for a bowl of chocolate for lunch, say yes, give them the bowl of chocolate! Tell them Saturday is no rule day! Tell them they can have roast dinner for breakfast, jelly and icecream for lunch, when they ask you to do something simple that you are normally too busy to do as you're rushing to "get the chores done so you can relax", say yes, why not? And do that with them. Chores are there forever, our Saturdays with our little ones are limited. In only a very few short years they'll be with their teenage friends and won't want you to sit and draw with them, or do silly dances, or teach them words to silly songs, and eat sweets for breakfast. There are only limited No Rule days left. Chores will be there forever.
See if you can do it. One day a week. What a difference it makes to everyone. Tweet about it, tell us what things you are doing that you don't normally do, add #NoRuleDay
Today is Saturday. Saturdays rule.
😊 X X X
I thought today I'd share you Mondays' betrayal, er I mean, "saving my feelings". Well, at first I got cross and thought "sneaky little buggers!", but then I thought, well its sort of nice that they're trying to not hurt my feelings! But that went swiftly back to "Sneaky LYING little buggers!".
Of course, this sneaking and hiding things had to do with one thing only....
My cooking skills. Or rather, lack of them.
I am a truly horrendous cook. It doesn't matter what I make, it tastes rotten. I don't know why, I can follow instructions, I like to make things up, you'd think there'd be ONE thing I could make, wouldn't you?
After experiments, recipes, and even going down to the basic frozen kids food of Smiley Faces and Crispy Pancakes, or oven chips and fishfingers, my food turns out like crap. Crap on a plate.
I once made what is now referred to in our house as "Butter Risotto". It was frankfurter risotto actually, but might have gone in a bit heavy handed with some butter, and sat and watched my ex and my Dad sitting there struggling until the heartburn got too much for even me and I told them to bin it.
I then thought how easy it would be to buy a couple of ready made pizzas and do them for our Saturday night "takeaway" recently. How could they go wrong?! Someone else had made them, I just had to cook them until the cheese melted, right? So, I popped them in, turned them round halfway through the recommended cooking time, then when the recommended cooking time was up I noticed the cheese hadn't melted yet, so thought I'd just leave them in a bit longer. Kept checking to make sure they didn't burn.....it took AGES for the cheese to melt. So, it looked fairly appetising.....served it up.....then bit into it. Well, we ATTEMPTED to bite into it. Although I hadn't burnt it, the extended time in the oven had baked the base to a consistency of concrete. It wasn't just crispy, or crunchy, it was rock solid! I nearly broke my teeth! We all ended up scraping off the topping with our teeth and leaving the bases, then filled up on Saturday night snacks!
As for my jacket spuds, well last time I was merrily microwaving away (who has the time to oven cook them?!), did them for the right amount of time, then the phone rang. So, I answered the phone and when I got off I thought I'd just heat through the spuds that had been sat cooling in the microwave. I put them on for a good few minutes to make sure they were hot enough to melt the cheese. So, I got them out and put them on the plate. I then attempted to cut them. And tried again. And got a sharp knife which wouldn't cut the surface, so I ended up stabbing the bloody things open! I thought, yeah, they're just a bit crispy, you can't overlook jacket potatoes.....hah.....when I finally cracked them open, instead of lovely fluffy potato inside, they pretty much did what the Griswolds dry, over-cooked Christmas Turkey did- see HERE at around 1.46 mins in. That was literally what happened to my spuds. They were so over cooked that there was just thick, rock-solid layers of hard skin and steam, and no potato! Literally none! Total disaster!
My kids all burst out crying once, when I said I was cooking and no, they couldn't have a takeaway. In retrospect, it was clearly not the lack of takeaway that they were crying about, and more to do with my cooking. The fact they were sobbing "no Mummy, PLEASE don't cook!!" may have been a clue.
So I can't cook? It doesn't make me a bad person! Some people can't type, I can! Some people can't play the piano, I can! So I don't mind that I can't cook and my kids beg for sandwiches, they get healthy food without me cooking it to death. Elsewhere obviously - thank GOD for school dinners!
So a couple of weeks ago I thought, stuff it, we'd have hot dogs. So I made hot dogs. And didn't cock it up! And the kids actually ATE them! So this Sunday just gone, I asked the kids if they wanted hot dogs again and they shouted out "yay, we LOVE hot dogs!"
I was onto a winner! Unfortunately they were out of hot dog buns so I had to make it in rolls. Because I had to cut the frankfurters in half, I ended put putting perhaps a teeny tiny bit too much ketchup on to stick the half cut frankfurters to the rolls. So as I sat happily munching, thinking it was jut mine that was a bit too saucy and going a bit red in the face, the kids sat happily munching too, making no sound, no complaining for once, cleared up their plates and popped them in the sink ready for me to wash up. I congratulated the kids on having nothing left on their plates, clearing up, and felt finally satisfied that they'd all actually eaten all of something I made for them!
The next day, after I'd dropped them at school, I came home and started to clear breakfast dishes (I know, right?? I usually don't start clearing up til 2.30pm!), I opened the compost to scrape the leftover cereal pieces into it, and what do you think I found? Yes, that's right, 6 complete rolls with all the frankfurters still in place, with a small bite mark on 3 of them! The little, lying, sneaky, toe rags had clearly taken a bite and then pretended to carry on eating before sneaking all of their food into the compost! The little....! I was SO pissed off! But then I thought, how kind that they pretended to eat my food and snuck it into the bin so they wouldn't hurt my feelings, which is pretty much what I do to any food they ever prepare, or handle, then give to me....who knows where those fingers have been?! Well, I do actually, which is why I pretend to eat it but end up chucking it in the compost....
I think I'll give up, sandwiches for tea on Sunday kids??
P.S. Don't forget to click HERE for details on how to enter my giveaway!
Hi Slummy Chummies!
Well, as promised, there is now another collaboration giveaway with Beauty Loves! All you need to do to enter for a chance to win the goodies in the picture below, is click HERE to take you to the simple instructions of how to enter this lovely, luscious giveaway, along with any Terms & Conditions! Simples!
Good luck guys, and while you're here, you may aswell read my latest post, called Funny Videos, Flipper Feet & Adolf Hitler!
I shall see you tomorrow in a new blog post!
Hi my Slummy Chummies!
Long time no blog! I know, I know, you've missed my random wittering on, haven't you? Well, I've missed writing, I can tell you that! But why so many days in between this and my last blog? Simply, there aren't enough hours in the day with 3 kids, plus I spent approximately 3 days packing, unpacking and re-packing for my eldest's school 2-night stay at an activity centre. I didn't want to pack too much but I didn't want him to be left stranded without something vital! To be honest, I could've left some of the 12 pairs of socks, 8 pairs of pants and 6 outfit changes out and just stuck in biscuits and sweets! He came home tonight and I'm too scared to look in his suitcase so it's spending the night in the car boot. All I know is it came home about half the weight it went with.....I've got a strong suspicion that he's come home with only one shoe, along with most of the last minute clothes I bought and sent, but I can't deal with the mini-breakdown involved in discovering this fact to be true, especially as my unlucky kids have inherited my flat, wide feet and I have to get all their shoes from the expensive shop for kids with wide feet.
I was never going to be a ballerina with my flipper feet. To be fair, the thighs from the horse riding didn't exactly sit well for ballet, and I wasn't really built for grace. I would like to thank my mum for making me go....oh I'm being SO sarcastic when I say that, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it might've been ME that wanted to go to ballet, but that's the point! My Mum should've said no to me! Just, no! My daughter wanted to do ballet. She's as gentle and graceful as a herd of elephants stampeding! I am not going to let her go to ballet and win the star role of being a.....ahem....'muscle man' in the Ballet Schools public - PUBLIC!! - performance! Which is not at ALL what happened to me....😳..... Moving swiftly on....
So yes, it's been busy! It's always busy but this week was busy busy! Exhausting busy! I-can't-lift-my-finger-up-to-type-on-my-ipad busy!
So, following straight on from my last post - "You Told Your Kid He Had Ebola?!" - I thought I'd pop on a link to a video clip that really WAS funny! I don't know if that's mean of me, I'm not entirely sure I care, because its funny! This was American Host Jimmy Kimmel asking parents to pretend they'd eaten all their Halloween sweets (or Candy) and film the responses! Some are cute, some are funny, and some are just hysterical!
Click HERE to see the funny Candy Stealing parents filming their offspring being told the meanest thing a parent can say to their child whilst still being passable as a fairly normal (but mean) parent, and remember, THIS is funny - telling your child he is likely to kark it from the latest nasty bug is NOT! Unless your child was Adolf Hitler in which case maybe they should've done that. Oh, maybe they DID do that and that's what turned him into a murdering psycho?! Quick! Get Ebola Kid a therapist!! 😱
Speaking of which, middle child, Mental, was having a discussion with my (Ballet-enabling) Mum about the World Wars a while back, and talking about why Hitler did what he did, and believed what he believed, when Mental piped up with the line that will haunt him to his 21st, which was "oh yes, his name was Adolf Hitler wasn't it! I know him! He's my friend Sam's best friend!"
Is he?! Is he really?!? I can safely say on this one that Sam is not besties with Hitler. Unless they are all Mentals imaginary friends in which case, quick! Get my kid a therapist!!
When I contemplate, as I often do, on the many failings I feel I have as a parent (hey its our job to beat ourselves up, right?), no matter how shit I am at cooking, making things, miraculously sewing an amazing costume with one hours notice, you know, the usual.....no matter what, I will NEVER be as bad as the parents who tricked their kid into thinking he had Ebola!! Evil poxy mo*********rs!! (I didn't swear, I didn't! Truckers! I said truckers!)
No matter how grumpy, moody, mardy, tantrummy, ungrateful, bratty, picky, argumentative, annoying, sarcastic - well you get the picture - they are, I simply am not evil enough to pretend they've got a disease that might kill them!!
I have a very VERY warped sense of humour, I mean, as in I'm going to hell kinda warped - anyone who knows me knows that - they've usually booked the seat next to me.....but even I, just couldn't, wouldn't, and would never have even THOUGHT of doing something like that! I mean there was a time many years ago when I hadn't slept for two weeks that I felt like throwing my baby out of the window through sheer hallucinations & sleep deprivation, but I wouldn't have actually DONE it! (I checked with my health visitor to see if I'd turned into a mad psycho murderer and she said no, most mums whose babies suddenly decide they don't need to sleep feel that way too after a while, then she made me sleep train him....whole new story!)
I know I take the piss, damn, its part of the job description, but my kids ALWAYS know when I'm being humorous, playing a joke etc., and when I'm deadly serious.
Oh god, I sound all boring and preachy now! I don't like boring and preachy!
But hey, its not often I see such a bad example of parenting that it makes me feel like SuperMum, so I'm taking the smug, moral high ground while I can!! Its kinda like watching Eastenders - it makes you happy with your life when you think you too could have a crap, miserable existence, like all the inhabitants of Albert Square!
What gets you all riled up and gets your Mummy feathers all ruffled up? Is it just me?!
Here's a link to the video, just because its going viral as "funny". I laugh a lot, and at all the crap jokes too, but either I'm growing up, having a humour malfunction, or my Mummy instincts are just not letting this one slide because I really cant see the funny side in even, for a split second, letting your child think he might die!! Please feel free to comment and tell me, before I start getting all deep or something! 😱
http://youtu.be/NbtsssN7r8w (see how its titled as Funny! Yeah as funny as the Grim Reaper pointing at you with a sign saying "you're next" at a funeral! Actually.....that could be quite entertaining....depends on the person....😏😈)
Night all, and feel free to tell me I'm being all wet and sensible/boring....although if you don't have kids you probably would actually find this funny, parents probably wouldn't. Unless they didn't like their kids in which case they might. I'm rambling, good night! 😴
Hiya my fellow Slummies!
I must apologise for not blogging much this week, but there's been this 'event' called half-term holidays. So I haven't had time to do much of anything this week, although I did find time to clear out the kids unused or unplayed with toys to sell to raise money for Christmas (that's the joy of single parenthood without financial support for the children! Just sayin.....).
So anyway, that commenced the battle of the toys as they insisted all of them were their favourite toys EVER and they'd apparently waited patiently since last Christmas for me to find them for them. This, as I explained to them, is highly doubtful. Because normally, should any toy go missing that they even vaguely like, hell hath no fury like my child without their toy, they turn into angry spoilt brats; the house, car, and any recently visited places must be turned upside down right this very minute until we find the toy. Finding that toy, holds such elation to me - it means my child thinks I'm the best mum EVER which is always nice to hear (who says mums don't have egos? We do and we like them stroked occasionally!), and I feel like I've won against the hiding toy. At this point I've usually given the toy imaginary personalities because it feels personal....it feels like its hiding on purpose and poking its tongue out behind you while singing "ner ner nee ner ner!". At this point, I want to find the toy, tie it to a chair and submit it to torture. At this point I HATE the toy with every fibre of my being! So they didn't get their old toys that hadn't even been opened....the ungrateful little...ahem.....and I sold them! Hah! Take that! I sold them, what do you think about THAT then eh? Stupid toys. Anyway, the money will go back in the Christmas pot to buy more presents that they can ignore for a year and I can sell next October ready for next years Christmas.
So, that happened this week. Then the other 'event'. Hell-oween. That night of the year that we encourage young children to go round knocking on strangers doors and asking for sweets. Yes, you can see the issue straight away here can't you? We spend 364 days a year telling our kids NOT to go near strangers and most definitely DONT accept sweets from them! No wonder our kids get confused!
So anyway, back to Halloween....there's nothing worse than sitting in and knowing your door knocker is going to be knocked loudly every 10 minutes for a few hours and set the dog off barking, so we did what we always do - we went round someone else's house! My bestie has always hosted Halloween because, quite frankly, she's bloody good at it! This time though, I couldn't afford costumes for their trick or treating (does anyone ever get tricked? I remember years ago, if we had no sweets, we'd get eggs pelted at the door! But they are all so young and polite, they wouldn't know what a 'trick' was if it toilet papered around them), so I decided the only way I could manage to not disappoint my kids was to turn them into zombies, and concentrate on the makeup!
This is where I came into my own! Ever since I got addicted to Pixiwoo - who are makeup artists and post tutorials on YouTube, I started training as a makeup artist. I still hope when my health's better, to be able to do this, although I want to specialise in Bridal Makeup and I don't think the Zombie look is quite what a bride-to-be would be looking for.....but anyway, due to my earlier jaunts I'd managed to amass a fair bit of Special FX makeup goodies, so I could really go to town! As you can see from the picture above. I ended up doing a few other kids who decided they wanted to be zombies too, but I had a whale of a time turning my kids into rotting corpses, far too much fun than I'd like to admit to my kids.....
But the worst bit, well....you use this stuff called Rigid Collodion which tightens as it dries and puckers the skin in, so this looks like a real dented in scar! The kids all loved this effect although I was slightly heavy handed with it. Ahem. Anyway, I hadn't really thought too much on the removal side of thing, using the parent golden rule of "no matter what it is, it will come off with a baby wipe!". It does NOT come off with a baby wipe.
It also does not, unlike instructions to the contrary, come off with alcohol or a 'good soak'. According to the web, you should just be able to peel it off. Which did technically work... What it doesn't mention is that it is stuck so tight to your children's baby fresh skin, that "peeling" it off in fact is slightly misleading - the only way to get it off is by ripping it off! Including a light layer of your child's skin! So, apart from Satan who feels nothing because she's just well 'ard, the two boys ended up crying and wailing and it took a good deal of pinning them down and torturing them to get the bloody stuff off! My friend was doing that thing, you know, where they're looking at you with distinct alarm in their eyes whilst trying to smile encouragingly at the kids, whilst saying quietly between her toothy encouraging fake smile that "oh look, it leaves their skin bright red and looks like a real scar haha" (nervous laughter. I think..). And oh my Lordy, the lines of red that were left on their skin was indeed bright red and did infact look like a real scar! Then, and only at that point, did I remember the distinct instructions for applying rigid collodion to sensitive skins, was to put it on after you'd sprayed their faces with a barrier spray.
I did bring the barrier spray with me, I even had it on the table amidst the piles of brushes and sponges and bruise wheels and white foundation....unfortunately I'd completely forgotten to use it.
Once I'd ripped their skin to shreds, we drove home, with Mental crying and saying his cheeks were still sore, at the same time as all of them turned into hyper sugar monsters whilst simultaneously starting to feel sick and tired. It was a very sombre troup that staggered indoors, I had to apply some repair cream to the kids scar marks, and thankfully this morning they woke up without permanent scars! Phew! Yay me!
They DID look bloody good though, even if I do say so myself! Well, Satan looked pretty much the same as every day, and pretty much acted the same as every day but that's another story for another day!
Happy Hell-oween all, if you have any Halloween stories to share, please do! Anything at all that stops me feeling like the evilest Mummy that ever did live!
I'm going to go and steal candy from my babies now, catch you later Chummies! 😁