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Ladies, we need to stop the b*tching!

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Whatever happened to solidarity and sisterhood?

I recently found myself being, I suppose you could say ‘body shamed’ and I must confess, it’s really got to me. Like most mums, my post-baby figure has been a thorn in my side for months as I’ve really struggled to get my pre-Isla figure back. I’ve hated my wobbly bits and have been wearing lots of loose-fitting clothes and pairs of Spanx to conceal my ‘mummy tummy’ and for a long time, actually felt very shitty about myself.

In a bid to give myself a kick up the backside, I bought a gorgeous size 8 dress back in March for my step-brother’s wedding, which was this weekend, with the view to shedding a few extra pounds to fit into it comfortably. After much hard work, it fit and for the first time in years, I actually felt like my old self again. I’m a member of a Facebook group of mummy bloggers and I posted the above photo into the group to celebrate my achievement with a group of like-minded ladies, feeling pretty damn good about myself for once.

Yet less than 24 hours after the wedding, I was bought crashing back down to earth by one snide comment, which simply said: “Not an 8 though is it”.

I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but it has. Was this person implying that I was lying about being a size 8? Was she implying I was delusional? I have no idea, but it really upset me that a complete stranger felt it necessary to say something like that to me. The responses from other members of the group were lovely and they called this woman out big time, and she’s since been removed and blocked from the group by the admin team. My post, at the time of writing this, has had 457 ‘likes’ or ‘loves’ reactions and 28 lovely, supportive comments from fellow group members, yet that one bitchy comment is the one that’s stuck. I even felt the need to prove to this cow that the dress was in fact an 8 by posting a photo of the label.

Ladies, enough! Life is hard enough without tearing each other down, especially complete strangers. Even if I had been lying/delusional and my dress wasn’t an 8, the fact that I felt confident enough to wear it, and was happy with my body for the first time in years, was surely the important thing here? Why did this person feel the need to knock me down? What had I done to deserve it?

Being cat-called by a group of lads in a souped-up Peugot while I was out running (“hey fatty bum bum!” how original…) is one thing, but this from a fellow mummy? Not cool. We need to support each other, not kick each other, especially when we’re down. I heard a great expression recently: “Just be kind. You don’t know everyone’s story, be kind to them, you don’t know what they’re going through” and it’s exactly right. This woman had no idea what I may have been through in my life, so she had no right to comment.

So come on ladies, let’s play nice!

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Things I’ve learned as a mum


Motherhood is a learning curve, there’s no two ways about it. I’ve learned things about life, myself and my lovely little girl I never would have thought of 18 months ago. As Isla is now 20 months old, I’m taking a trip down memory lane and looking at what I’ve learned over the past year and a half…

  • Kids do everything in their own time – no really, they do. I was so worried that Isla wasn’t developing as fast as she should be because she didn’t walk independently until she was 17 and a half months old. Then one day, she simply planted her hands on the floor, pushed herself up, stood up and simply walked over to the coffee table. On top of this, she was also an early talker and had 44 different words/phrases by the time she was 18 months old and apparently most kids that age have 15-20. So just don’t worry, they will do everything eventually. Honestly.
  • Baby wipes clean everything – mucky high-chairs, tables, floors, TVs, coffee tables, you name it. Also good for removing make up, dusting, wiping noses, removing toothpaste stains…etc etc
  • Yogurts fix everything – a quick snack for a hungry/grumpy toddler? Tick. A soothing teething remedy? Tick. An after-dinner dessert? Tick. Just because? Tick.
  • You can survive on less sleep than you think – when Isla was going through sleep regression and would only sleep in 90 minutes instalments, I still somehow managed to function, just. Whereas an early morning before Isla came along was 7am and I’d be knackered for most of the day. These days if Isla sleeps past 6.45am it’s considered a lie-in! Tired?! I didn’t know what tired was back then!
  • Don’t compare your kids – similar to the first point, it’s something I still occasionally do now, even though I shouldn’t, but I always worry that I’m not “doing it right” and that Isla is lacking in some areas. One of her little nursery friends is Romanian and her mum told me she can count to three in both Romanian and English – Isla can’t quite count in English yet! But I’m trying not too to dwell on that as I’m sure Isla is more developed in other areas that her friends aren’t.
  • An important one this….One very important lesson was to stop caring so much about what people think, and that real friends stick by you, no matter what. I was quite shocked to lose quite a few of my friends when Isla was born. They just stopped calling, texting etc and at the time, I was so wrapped up in the newborn blur that I didn’t think too much of it. “They’re probably just giving us space, maybe they don’t want to intrude?” I thought. But now nearly 2 years on, I still haven’t heard from them, which hurt my feelings I’ll admit and especially on bad days, made me feel pretty shitty. When I was younger I took things to heart much too easily and I would probably have turned myself inside out trying to change and win back these fair weather friends. But now…People don’t like you? Eff them! I know I’m slightly kooky with a strange sense of humour but my mantra is I’d rather be weird than boring. I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea but I’ve got some wonderful friends who love me for who I am and I’m not going to turn myself inside out trying to persuade people who don’t get me that I’m worth a chance.
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Be careful what you wish for…

Reunited!


As a busy mummy, I crave time to myself. Just blissful me time where I’m not required to change nappies, cook, clean or keep up with the pile of washing that never seems to end. I wanted to be able to go to the loo without a mischievous 1 year old following me, and eat a snack without a tiny hand pointing at it and throwing a hissy fit if I didn’t share.

Well last month, I actually had the opportunity to spend a full day and night on my own. It was my father in law’s birthday and as I was working, I couldn’t go to the usual family celebration up in Yorkshire so Hubs took Isla up to Whitby for the weekend, and once I’d finished my shift on Saturday afternoon, I had the whole place to myself until they got back on Sunday evening. I decided not to make plans with friends on the Saturday and just enjoy some quiet time in an empty house for a change instead of dashing off here and there.

Well guess what? I was lonely. And bored.

I really missed my husband and baby girl. This was my first weekend completely on my own since Isla was born and once the initial “aaahhhhh, peace and quiet” novelty wore off, I was genuinely at a loss for what to do. 

I binged on a few episodes of Game of Thrones (one of which was the Red Wedding episode which just bummed me out more!) got myself a nice tea and curled up in bed with a good ole chick flick. But I hated not having bedtime cuddles with my family, and hearing Isla’s sleepy snuffles over the baby monitor.

But the worst part came in the morning…I woke with a start at 6.30am (don’t you just hate waking up early when you don’t have to?!) and noticed I couldn’t see the green light on Isla’s baby monitor in our room. I then panicked that she’d woken up and I hadn’t heard her. I went into the hallway and saw her door, which is always closed, was wide open (you can probably see where this is going!)…panicking, I ran into her room and saw her cot was empty. I can’t describe how horrifying that feeling was, that my little girl had been taken. I was terrified and searched all around the cot in case she’d somehow climbed out, then ran into our room to grab my phone to call the police (yes, I know…). It was then I noticed that the reason I hadn’t seen the light on the monitor was because the baby monitor in our room wasn’t there. In my befuddled state I wondered if the kidnappers had stolen the monitors too. It was then that I remembered that Isla, and the monitors, were in Yorkshire. The relief was immense and I needed a good few minutes to compose myself!

Looking back it all sounds so silly, but you know what it’s like when you’re half asleep and you’re wondering if the dream you just had was real? That’s what it was, nothing made sense!

But I really did miss Hubs and Isla so much and all that Sunday I couldn’t wait for them to get home! Typical, I’d wanted time to myself and when I got it, all I wanted was my noisy family back!

* I’m delighted that this post has been published on The Motherload! You can read it here…