Biased girlfriend syndrome

So i’m one of those girlfriends (technically, I’m a fiancee now, but who’s being specific?) that gets moody and stroppy when I don’t get my own way, but in my defence, what girlfriend isn’t?

I expect you to know exactly what I want before I ask, and if you don’t I’m pretty sure I’m gonna threaten to make you sleep on the couch and use it against you for months.

When i’m in the kitchen cooking tea, how dare you presume that I’m not actually watching anything and decide to watch ‘Steve Austins Broken Skull Ranch” – I clearly wanted to listen to the weather! / But if you’re watching Steve Austin and I’ve just got out of the bath, please know that when I come downstairs I will expect you to turn something better on immediately.

When you’ve finished a delicious (if I may say so myself) home-made meal, if I ask you how it tasted and you respond ‘lovely’ every night, i WILL get the hump. Mix it up boy – tell me its delicious or flavoursome or exquisite. If you cook something for me, I’m pretty certain it’ll be too cold or undercooked, and I will make it known.

If I ask why you didn’t wash your plate and you say ‘you didn’t ask me to’ AM I YOUR MOTHER – NO! (well kinda, sometimes) DO IT BECAUSE YOU SHOULD, NOT BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN ASKED TO! But if I leave my plate on the floor next to me for 2 hours, its completely fine, I’ve had a busier day than you today.

When I ask you to get me a surprise from the shop and you come home with a bottle of Oasis when I clearly wanted Lucozade – WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT IN THIS RELATIONSHIP YOU SHOULD KNOW ME BETTER THAN THAT! But if you ask me to get a chocolate bar for you and I forget it, I’ve got a lot on my mind, go and get it yourself!

And if you dare take one of my M and M’s without asking, please understand that I will donkey kick you as you’re walking up the stairs behind me. If you respond to the donkey-kick I will NOT be happy. You are not allowed to retaliate. I might have broken your nose, but you broke my heart as you chewed on one of my favourite delectables.

If I smack your arse whilst you carry a bru and accidentally spill it all down you, don’t even bother to react by tea-towel whipping me. YOU’RE SO HEAVY HANDED AND I WILL TAKE IT OUT ON YOU FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT.

If I lock you out of the house whilst you put the bins out, in nothing but your boxers, don’t start shouting ‘Loz, come on its freezing out here!’ in that grumpy tone, because ill only make you stay out for 10 seconds longer than originally intended.

Please don’t say ‘you look beautiful’ when I have no make up on. Ill only shout at you for lying when I’ve got no make up on cos I’m pretty sure I’m a 3 at best.

WHY ARE YOU WATCHING A VIDEO ON YOUR PHONE WHILST IM TRYING TO LISTEN TO AMBER PRETEND SHE CARES ABOUT KEM! But also, if I find a video whilst were watching Love Island, you must pause the TV immediately so I don’t miss it.

When we’re cuddling, please don’t put your legs on me, they’re too heavy. If I put my legs on you and you complain, I’m pretty certain you’re calling me fat and I won’t be happy.

When you’re rubbing my back, don’t you dare do it for anything less that 3 hours. If you ask me to rub your back, please note that my arm will ache after 4 minutes and after that ill just tickle the same spot for the rest of the time.

If I’m squeezing your spots, stop being such a baby and man up! If i ask you to get one of my spots, don’t you dare be rough, that shit hurts!



So what if you haven’t bought any new trainers in the past 2 years, you’ve only bought me 4 bunches of flowers since we got together WHERE IS THE LOVE?

If I tell you I ordered a bag that I realllllyyyyyyyy liked online and its on sale for £40 reduced from £270, please know that if you spend £3.70 on a coffee without consulting with me I will ask you how you expect us to save up when you’re being crazy with money!

If I let our toddler have toys in his bath after you said no, its because I feel bad for him because he’s just so cute and he couldnt possibly mean it he’s only a baby. If you let our toddler have toys in the bath after I said no then I’m pretty sure you’re trying to start world war 3.

If you start to tidy up at 9pm because the mess is annoying you, please know that I will not be joining you, Big Brother has just started. If I randomly stand up and start tidying whilst you’re video calling your gran from Spain who you haven’t spoken to in 18  months, and you do not cancel on her and join in, please do not expect me to even look in your direction without scowling for the next 7 days.

Boys, guys, gentlemen, lads – I am so sorry – you will never ever win. You are always much more rough than we are, and we have more feelings so its more likely you’ll hurt them. But we love you really, and we do actually appreciate you putting up with our psycho princess bullshit every now and again.

I am actually completely obsessed with Ryan. He is my absolute best friend and without him I would be lost. I also think we work so well to make life decisions together and to be good cop bad cop to the kid when required (I’m usually good cop, it means i get cuddles even when he’s being a little shit – Joshua, not Ryan)

I won’t say anything further, I know you’ll be reading and you’ll only come home and eat my M and M’s on purpose. I love you millions you big bald bell-end. Thank you for always being my number one fan with everything I do. you da real MVP

To the people shaking their head in disgust and saying ‘oh dear, who would put up with that shit’ – *please note* – This blog requires a slight sense of humour (come on I’m no Jason Manford but its clear to see its bants – its all tongue in cheek! – Im talking about us psycho girls in general, I don’t actually mentally and physically abuse Ryan on the regs (just every now and again when he deserves it) He might be 20 days younger than me, but there’s no need to call childline, he’s actually pretty well looked after!


PS – I just wanted to say thank you so much to everybody that has taken the time to message me/comment and share my blogs, and to the people that take time out of their day to have a read of my rants and waffles. Its so incredible having people from Cyprus, India, USA and all over the world visiting my blog, but its so special to me that people I know and from allover the the UK have given me so many lovely compliments. Thank you so much x x x x



Its not all plain snail-ing

Being a mum is the hardest thing I have ever done.

12068969_10207614407935420_1296235816628631468_oIt’s true. I’ve worked in various job roles since leaving school and none of them ever came close!

Most people think stay at home mums are lazy. “Get a real job, lying on the couch all day isn’t hard work” – FYI if you’ve ever tried to lie on the couch and relax all day with a three year old, you’ll know that it is in fact, very hard work! 

I never ever planned to be a stay at home mum. It’s never been my cup of tea. I sometimes hate the fact that I hardly entertain an adult conversation and my day revolves around playing the same game for 3 hours, or a trip to the park, and lets face it it just isn’t the same once you’re too big to play on the slide and roundabout yourself. I wouldn’t say looking at snails and spiders is the most interesting way to spend my days either. Painting is all fun and games until you’ve got a toddler covered in paint who refuses to stand still as you rummage to find the wipes before destruction begins and the white walls are covered in splodges of brown and grey – the two colours you always seem to end up with once all of the paint has been aggressively mixed together by the little Taz-manian devil.


‘The taz-manian devil in action’

I envisioned my days to be so different as a working mum. I’d wake up, get ready into my sassy work outfit, stroll in the sun to work as I drink my Starbucks and spend my day laughing and having mature conversations. I’d pick up my little cherub (who always gets star of the week) and we would come home, have a lovely meal as a family and start the bedtime routine, before relaxing on the couch with Ryan having a cocktail and a chat about our days.

Being a mum is hard – full stop – I don’t care who disagrees. When I was a working mum it was entirely different to the dream scenario I expected. I would wake up at a ridiculous time in the morning to get ready, endure the ‘planking’ of the toddler that doesn’t want to get ready, i’d have to feed Joshua porridge or toast on the bus because we didn’t have time beforehand, read books on the bus to keep him entertained (when I should have been processing my brain for the day ahead and thinking about the customers I need to contact and the emails I need to reply to) and then with a quick rush to nursery and saying goodbye, a rush to work, that meant I usually arrived at work at 08:59am all flustered and sweating like a 40 year old starting her menopause.

I would spend my day juggling work and panicking about doctors appointments, trying to work out when I’m going to fit in the weekly shop that I never had time for or when I’m going to get chance to hoover behind the couch, and when I’m going to actually take that wash out of the machine that I keep re-washing and forgetting about (sometimes I don’t forget, I just can’t be bothered). After work I would rush back to nursery get Joshua, hoisting my bag full of snacks and entertainment for the Journey home and spend the next two hours waiting for/travelling home on the bus. We would get home, Joshua would be cranky so i’d usually have to whip him up something quick for tea, rush the bedtime routine, come downstairs, cook something for Ryan and I, wash the pots and put in a wash that i’ll later ‘forget’ to take out of the machine. We’d lay lifeless and full on the couch for an hour watching something tedious on TV, shower and bed. Repeating daily. I hated it. It was so hard trying to juggle everything without a car, part time hours or even a second to breathe and think about anything other than the above routine.

I had to suddenly come out of work at the beginning of this year when I got way too stressed to deal with all of it, along with the many complications of childcare fees (WHO WANTS TO WORK FULL-TIME AND FOR EVERY £100 THEY EARN £70 GOES ON NURSERY FEES!?) For a while, I felt so guilty that I had left behind being a working mum and doing a proper job like most people. I felt like without working and paying tax I was giving nothing to the world – and poor Ryan had to continue working and missing out on the wondrous things that I would go on to experience as Joshua grows, without thinking about how stressed he might sometimes be being the breadwinner.

After a few weeks of getting through the mum guilt, I must say I’ve had the best few months with Joshua, and a lot of it was because I ignored the ideology that I was a failure for doing so. We took trips to the cinemas together, museums, play areas and parks (usually I take picnic to the park to cure the boredom of watching without being able to join in). Ive watched him grow and his personality alter each day as he slowly turns into the mature little boy that he’s growing up to be. I won’t pretend I haven’t had days when I’ve hated it. Days that it’s been raining, and Joshua doesn’t want to draw a picture or play a game and Peppa fucking pig is on Nick Jr all day (WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO US NICK JR). Its a struggle. Constantly trying to find something new and exciting to keep them entertained, whilst trying to stick to the budget of a sole income also! Constantly wondering if you’re doing the right thing. Wondering if they should know what a hexagon is by now or be able to count to 20. Wondering if he should be able to write his name. (he can’t do either of those yet by the way).

Its hard to find an in-between. When i was working I didnt have a single second to think, and being a stay at home mum i’ve had time to think about EVERYTHING. I even panic about Joshua being okay at high school?!!!!

I’ve loved having a few months to think everything through. After years of questioning who I want to be and what I want out of life, I’m finally in a place where I am comfortable with who I am as a mother, a fiancee, and a 21 year old woman (woman? girl? lady? none of those words sound appropriate!) – I finally have a life plan in place, and I’m excited to spend the next 3 months enjoying and organising everything before I start a new adventure as Joshua starts school. I CANT BELIEVE HE’S GOING TO SCHOOL!

I’m so ready to do something with my life again. I’m ready to get back working and endure the balance of the morning rush and menopause disasters in order to get to work and have those mature conversations that I sometimes crave.

If you’re a stay at home mum I SALUTE YOU – do what is best for you!  Get rid of the guilt and the feeling of failure (if you feel that way) and appreciate the time with your babies. Laugh and worry about the paint splodges on the walls later, because there will come a time in life that you’ll treasure them. And if you have a day on the sofa doing nothing – DO NOT FEEL RUBBISH ABOUT IT, ITS NOT A CRIME AND IF ANYTHING, PEOPLE ARE JUST JEALOUS THAT THEY CANT DO THE SAME THING! Keep your head up, and do not feel bad for any choices you make – you’re a parent, but you’re also human!

If you’re a working mum I SALUTE YOU, I know its hard juggling everything but it’ll be worth it for your babies. Do not ever feel guilty for leaving them to go to nursery/school because I promise you once the tears stop, they love it (I used to work in a nursery, i’ve witnessed it first hand) I know it gets crazy busy, but as hard as it is to keep everything going and not having a second to think, its not all sunshine and rainbows giving up either! 

Like I said, I love being a mum and its my favourite thing in the entire world, but it’s the hardest thing I have ever done.

PS – I know I always end up getting a little bit preachy towards the end of my posts, sorry! I don’t know what comes over me. One minute I’m watching peppa pig and the next I think I’m at a motivational speaker conference


PPS – I do hope my posts might interest/help dads too – I just don’t refer to them much because I tend to talk about personal experience and I do not have that of a dad.

much love xo

Dear Stranger..

Dear fellow bus passengers, i’m sorry that my child will not stop howling on our way home this evening. I know its rush hour, you’re all tired from work and the last thing you wanted to hear was a screaming baby – I’m tired too, and so is my son. We had to wait half an hour longer for the bus, he’s had a long and tiring day too, and he’s just as warm as you are as we all pile onto the bus like sardines. I promise you, throwing dirty looks and tutting at me will not make this bus ride any easier or faster for any of us.

To the woman passing me on the street, throwing out dirty looks because my son has decided to have a mini-meltdown in the middle of the pavement. Its very clear to see that you don’t have kids! They all do it, it happens. Good luck to you on the future birth of perfect Peter.

To the man in Tesco growling at me because my toddler run out in front of your trolley, Im very sorry! he’s just so excited to help me shop and once he found the peppers that I asked for, he couldn’t wait to collect them for me and pop them into the trolley.

To the cashier that pulls her face because I told my son he could pay for his own toy today. I apologise that this might be a little inconvenient for you. The shop seems relatively quiet and there’s nobody waiting behind me so I didn’t think it would be an issue. I’m just trying to teach my child to count, the importance of exchanging money to buy something and how the world works.

To the person driving behind us beeping and getting agitated because we drive to the speed limit. You can clearly see the ‘baby on board’ sign. We’re not doing it for fun – speed limits are there for a reason.

To the other mum in the Disney shop pulling her face as Joshua buys a big PINK bing bong teddy and giving him the ‘spoilt little brat’ look. You don’t know me or my son. If I want to buy my child a bright pink elephant teddy, because thats what he likes, then I bloody well will!

To the other families in the restaurant saying ‘great, we’re surrounded by kids, this doesn’t seem very promising’ – what’s the issue? Just because my sons only 3 doesn’t mean he’s going to be running around shitting into his hands and throwing it around the restaurant. He probably has better table manners than you.

To the world, full of judgmental people – feel free to judge me. I’m rubbish at drawing on my eyebrows, I usually forget to carry baby wipes and I wear sandals whatever the weather because they’re comfy. Judge away.

But why, oh why do people find it acceptable to pull their face at children. They are our next generation. They cry because they don’t yet understand how to express their feelings properly. They get excited at shopping because they’re learning about money and food and exploring new things to cook with mummy later. They might throw a strop (and admittedly, sometimes for no reason at all) but how is that YOUR business? How is frowning at ME going to help the situation? How dare you frown because my son is sat at a table relatively close to you? What has he ever done to you to deserve that? There are so many people that don’t like children, and thats fine, but please do not throw your awful mood or shade towards me or my son because i’ll only return with my son, my niece, my friend and her daughter, and we will proceed to do whatever it is that you’re so damn angry with 10 times more.

Dear rude, ignorant, judgemental people – children are humans too for goodness sake. Stop being so bloody up-tight. Let them enjoy all of the wonders of the world that you forgotten to appreciate. Let them learn new things and express their feelings. If a child waves at you, WAVE BACK! If they say sorry for bumping into you as you pass in the street, ACCEPT THEIR APOLOGY OR APOLOGIZE BACK!

Just because your life didn’t turn out to be all sunshine and rainbows, doesn’t mean that theirs can’t be!



One of those days

“Urghhhhh i’m knackered” said the little voice from the back of the car. Ryan and I smirk and glance at each other in shock. WHERE THE BUGGER DID THAT COME FROM?!

Its one of them things isn’t it. One day you’re trying so desperately to get them to say “mama” “baba” “dada” and the next thing they’re shouting “MUUUUM COME AND WIPE MY BUM QUICK, I’VE DONE A MASSIVE POO AND IT STINKS!”

I love being a mum. Its my favourite thing in the entire world, but when I’m having ‘one of those days‘ I just want to run away with the circus. One of those days where you wake up and as you climb out of bed you kick over a Mickey mouse cup full of water. You come downstairs and trip over the Paw Patrol scooter on the way to the kitchen to accidentally burn some toast.

The kinda day where you get dressed to leave the house and as you walk past a neighbouring window you notice that you’ve forgotten to bronzer your neck before missing the hourly bus.

The kinda day that you don’t wear make up and end up bumping in to Sassy Sally (your boyfriends ex) in Tesco dressed to the nines, showing off her brill MUA skills and then you get to the checkout and realise you’ve forgotten your bank card.

The days when you have a bit of extra money coming up and think ‘ooo it’ll be nice to do this or it’d be nice to book that’ and then before you know it its gone before it even reaches the bank.

Well, yesterday was one of those days. In fact, this entire week so far has consisted of those kind of bloody days. I’ve spent the past few days unwell – meaning 3 days in hospital (nothing major, long story), leaving 0 time for Joshua (another praise the lord for grandparents moment). We’ve spent an absolute FORTUNE of our ‘spare money’ on parking and food (I’D LOVE TO MEET THE TWATBAG THAT THINKS £15 A DAY FOR PARKING IS A GOOD IDEA) and generally spent yesterday with all three of us drained and wishing for the week to end…

But I personally find that after having ‘one of those days‘ that things usually get a little better. This morning, after trying to convince Joshua that it isn’t morning yet and we should have family snuggles for another half an hour, we lumped ourselves out of bed, quickly got ready, I slapped on a bit of BB cream and we packed a bag. The weather was grumpy, the boy was being a bugger and the fiance was in his usual ‘do we have to bring so much stuff in your bag i’ll only end up having to carry it’ mood – I mean he’s right, but how dare he say it’s unlikely i’ll need my whole make up bag containing at least 7 different shades of lipstick what does he know about being a female?!

Anyway, we got in the car, Joshua asked to listen to ‘Weight Watchers’ – he actually means the acoustic version of ‘What you waiting for’ by Keane, but his version is much more fun, and we all had a little boogie. We proceeded to the park, where they wanted £1.50 for parking (bloody parking again!) so with a purse containing only a bank card and my Thomas Sabo loyalty card we turned back and parked on a nearby street. In the process of 0.3 seconds we all climb out of the car, Joshua pops on his wellies ready to conquer the mud mountains and falls flat on his face busting his bottom lip. Blood everywhere, the boys screaming, the fiance’s panicking and I can’t find the bloody baby wipes!

Fast forward a good 45 minutes, the swollen lip is forgotten about, the tears have stopped and we’ve walked past the parking attendant giving him the biggest smug grin and the middle finger (well, in my head, but same thing). We’ve had a big wonder around the park and the farm, a bit of fresh air, the boys STILL hungry, and he’s grumpy because he’s not allowed on the giant slide until he’s a bit bigger. (I am completely downplaying the walk and the farm to be fair though, we really enjoyed that bit)

After a good few hours, we all got tired, and decided to head home, and that my friends is when the magic happened (no not like MTV Cribs, soz). Joshua wanted to ride his bike for the 12th time today and to be fair I was so close to saying “No, you get on for 2 minutes and you’ll be off again, lets just get back to the car now!” but i’m so so glad I didn’t because this time was different. He popped on his little helmet and clambered aboard, and with a bit of help from dad off he went. Cycling through the park, steering himself (most of the time) and already being so close to peddling on his own.

All of a sudden the rest of the week didn’t matter. The time I was in hospital, the money we spent, the rubbish weather, the fact that Joshua was still asking for food when he’d eaten enough to feed a gang of elephants, and the inconvenience when you can never find the bloody baby wipes.

I couldn’t have been more proud. My baby is growing up. He’s a little boy. The most intelligent, handsome and downright perfect little boy – and he makes everything okay. How crazy is that. Surely it’s something we’re supposed to do for them, but all along they’re the ones holding us together too.

And after everything thats happened this week, I’ll only ever remember it for one thing: This week, my baby learned to ride a bike!



The Baby-cycle Rap (you’re welcome)

Stretch marks, hormones, constant tears, midwives, scans and labour fears,

Pushing, screaming, gas and air, sweeps and forceps, perineal tear,

bed bound, korma shits, chest like boulders, should have expresses like the midwives told us.

Baby weigh – turns out he’s a chunky lad, health visitors tell us Johnson’s creams are bad,

peace and quiet becomes a thing of the past, the baby sleeps, a car door slams, you knew it wouldn’t last.

You lose most friends, you’re grumpy cos you’ve got so much to do, the house is a mess, got sick on your dress, the baby had a poo.

You’re eyes are sore, your life’s a bore and all you want is sleep, his eyes close tight, you say goodnight and out you slowly creep.

You load a wash, clean the pots and put away the shop, clean the toys, empty the bath, WILL IT EVER STOP?



But just as you’re at breaking point you hear the baby talk, she grows, she crawls and dresses herself, she finally starts to walk.

He’s growing up, the nappies are gone, the potty’s your new task, ‘SON WHY DID YOU POO ON THE RUG, IF YOU NEED SOME HELP JUST ASK’

She’s growing fast, she’s painting pictures, helping bake some cakes, she’s found her new obsession with the Gruffalo, Mouse and Snake.

He’s much more independent now, its hard for you to see, I like to watch you grow my love but I wish you needed me.

She goes to school and makes new friends and soon she fancies boys, oh darling I wish for the days that we would play with baby toys.

One night in bed you have a chat whilst snug under the cover, when you decide to announce “she really should have a brother”,

“hello son, inside my tum’, we’re your father and mother” but all of a sudden you’re tired and asking WHY DID WE HAVE ANOTHER?”



If you’re a dad… this ones for you!

Happy fathers day to all of the dads out there!

The ones that miss out on gym sessions and a fun lifestyle to spend time tucking in their babies and reading Julia Donaldson books. To the dads that were ‘too young’ to have children and stepped up to prove the world that age is just a number. To the dads that were ‘too old’ to have a baby, unaware of just how much energy they would find to chase the kids around the park when it was time to go home and everybody was having too much fun to leave. To the dads that got their ‘end’ away when mum only wanted a massage. The dads that stepped up when the biological sperm donor didn’t.  The dads that are no longer with us but are most definitely watching over us (probably saying something along the lines of “stop drinking so bloody much” and “stop turning all of the lights on it looks like Blackpool illuminations in here” The dads that say “do you think I’m made of money?” and then proceed to hand over an extra £10 without a second thought.

Happy fathers day to the dads that say “you’re not going out wearing that!” and the dads that might only see their kids on the weekend, but make it the best weekend ever. The dads that face endless sleepless nights and still get up super early to work overtime in the morning just to buy their child an extra birthday present. The dads that have their toenails painted and the dads that dress as ninjas with their babies and fight to the death. The dads that as you grow up, end up becoming one of your best friends. The dads whose cuddles make everything better when you’re hurt.. and the dads that might shout when you fall over and say ‘well its your own pissing fault, get up and dust yourself off’ but inside their stomachs hurt with worry.

To the men that might not be called dad, but they step up and play the role anyway. The dads that might not be related by blood but will always be related by the heart. The dads that fell in love the day that they met their child for the first time. The dads that play pirates and princesses, dinosaurs and ninjas. The dads that jump on the bed and then later pretend they have no idea how the bed broken. The dads that used to drink endless shots on the weekends and now most weekends they drink endless cups of coffee in the hope that the teddy bear picnic might end soon and he can get 20 minutes rest to watch the football.

The grandads that tell stories of the ‘older days’ and how there was no Paw Patrol in their day. The grandads that play fight with the kids when they should be in bed, the granddads that let you have a sip of beer when mums not looking. The granddads that’ll sit you on their knee and let you have a bite of their biscuit.

To ANY man that has had a positive role in a child’s life….

Thank you!

We might forget to say it sometimes. We might be too busy remembering what were cooking for tea, or whether we’ve put a wash in yet, or whether we remembered to reply to an important email earlier that day. We might be so lost in our own world, worrying that we’ve lost our identities and our free time, that we forgot that you might have lost yours too. We might worry that we’ve gotten out of shape and baggy eyes due to lack of sleep and over consumption of ‘fast foods’ but we sometimes forget that you might be having a bad day too.

So thank you. Thank you for everything you do for us. Thank you to our dads that are by our sides for love, comfort and help whenever required. Thank you to our childrens dads for being there by our sides through all of it. The most incredible family memories, the tiring night feeds, the trips to school plays to see their kids play their first main part (or the donkey in the nativity, no judgement here!) and the times that we all just need a cuddle from Dad. Thank you for everything.


The mums  (The ones that gave birth and will continue to use it against you for the next 18 years) 




And to the Men in my life especially..

My dad of course – who I couldn’t love any more if I tried!

Ryan – my fiancé, best friend and the dad of my child(ren). I could’nt have chosen a better role model for Joshua (and any future siblings) and I’m so thankful for everything you do for the both of us.

Chris (Ryan’s dad/Joshua’s grandad) – who the three of us would be completely lost without!

Our grandads, uncles and brothers – we love you all.


A Joan Walden kinda life ..

If my life was a movie, it would be perfect. I mean, it is in its own way – but like, you know the mum in Cat in the Hat? The one that fully has her life together. She has a perfect figure, shiny blonde hair, a job that she loves, a perfect house in a lovely neighbourhood, and she’s just completely excelling life in general. The kind of person that you would be so completely and utterly jealous of that you would love to smack them across their toned, tanned and perfectly contoured little mush.



If my life was a movie, Ryan and I would have bought our family home by now. I would have started my career and bought myself a Nissan Juke, we would be planning our wedding in the Maldives (of course) and I would have booked our family trip to Disneyland Florida for 3 weeks (I’d have booked the most luxurious dog kennel in Manchester for our little french bulldog Buddy too)

Id have a two-weekly visit to get my hair, nails and eyebrows done at the local spa and Ryan and I would be up every morning super early for our couples gym sesh (or a run around our perfect little neighbourhood with Buddy), and instead of my all time favourite chocolate hazelnut hot chocolate with cream from Starbucks, I would opt for a smoothie made mostly of kale and pretty coloured foods all blended into one. I would make Joshua lunch with colourful healthy foods placed in the shape of an animal (ha! it totally wouldn’t, but I’m painting a picture here, stay with me)

I would have a garden with the best swing set, and a big BBQ area and the best swimming pool that Costco has to offer. My kitchen would have an island in the middle where we would all gather to eat breakfast together and drink fresh orange juice out of a glass jug. My ‘lounge’ (shut up, its a living room) would consist of nothing but pretty furniture and decor and Joshua’s bedroom would resemble the worlds best play area (i’d install zip wires and bouncy floors, the lot.

But the question is, what actually is a ‘perfect’ life? Does the perfect life even exist? I mean, of course it’d be perfect to live a Kardashian lifestyle, jetting off on holidays on a two-weekly basis and spending the days in my 12 acre swimming pool, but I don’t want to be Kimmy K – i’d just appreciate her pay cheque every now and again…

I mean, lets look at Joan Walden’s life past the exterior for example (The ”perfect” cat in the hat mum mentioned above) – Her boyfriend is an overweight, slobby loser just pretending to be the perfect guy. Her life seems super busy and stressful (she didn’t even want to throw a party for work but she had to) and from what I remember, her boss was a bit of a bell-end, her babysitter Mrs Kwan was absolutely useless and her son was a little shit! So just because somebody is being perceived to have the perfect life that you wanted (it just so happens that mines out of a movie) not all is what it seems. We all have good and bad going on in our lives.

I might not have the perfect skin or the shiniest hair, and I definitely do not know how to contour. How the fuck do you do it girls, I just shove a line of bronzer on my cheek and a line of highlighter just above it, and I’m pretty sure it makes my face look fatter (HAHAH only kidding, any excuse to pass the blame for my giant head) – but Im super lucky to have somebody that loves me regardless.


Miley Cyrus showing off my signature look ‘plucked too many hairs whilst trying to make my brows even’ 

I might not have the best eyebrows (sometimes when i pluck them myself I end up looking like Miley 2014) and I might not live the perfect lifestyle, but Im lucky enough to appreciate where I’m at in life. Im 21 (nearly 22), Im studying Business and management level 3 at home in my own time, I love taking photos and being outdoors  where I can feel the crisp fresh air on my giant contour-failure of a head.

My son is so polite, adorable, handsome and cheeky, just like his daddy, who I’m also proud to have claimed as mine. I plan to one day marry the love of my life (not Ryan, Cillian Murphy) on a beautiful island in the sunshine with our babies there to witness the whole thing. I plan to one day have my dream car (probably won’t still be a Nissan juke by the time I can afford to buy one in 2047) and we will have bought the family house that we always wanted.

Some years we will have multiple holidays abroad and others we might pop down to devon for a week. Sometimes we will eat breakfast as a family (minus the glass jug full of orange juice, whats wrong with pouring it out of the bloody tropicana carton ay?!) and other days we will all be rushing around because we woke up late. Some days I might send Joshua to school with the healthiest lunchbox filled with healthy snacks and treats, and others I might pop a sandwich, banana and a coco pop bar into his gruffalo bag and send him on his merry way.

I just think its about trying to find a balance

Eat a jaffacake (or 4) – but then have a bit of fruit next time you’re hungry

Work hard to get where you want to, but so what if you take time out from doing so!

Get your hair, nails and eyebrows done,  take care of your skin and your body to your best ability (look after yourself in general!) but if you’d rather spend your money elsewhere/or you forget to take your make up off one night before bed then I PROMISE YOU WILL NOT DIE FROM IT. If you don’t buy a house until you’re 40 – WHO CARES. If you haven’t gotten the swing set that you always dreamed of getting for your kids, then get it for your grandkids! If you can’t afford to buy them a 3 acre swimming pool in the back garden like Kimmy K and co, then squeeze into your swimming cozzie and get down to your local swimming pool, or better still grab yourself a cheap paddling pool from Tesco, it does the same job!

Don’t beat yourself up about not being where other people are. Life is not a race, nor a competition. You might not have your idea of ‘successful’ just yet, but who’s to say you never will? You might not have lost the baby weight 3 years down the line (baby weight, any excuse hahaha I just like cake) but who’s to say you couldn’t start a diet right now and drop the excess weight over the next 6 months.

To anybody that feels as though they should have achieved so much more by now, you’re still here, which means you still have time. THE MAJORITY OF US FEEL THE SAME WAY, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! We all have something going on, we all have goals we haven’t yet achieved and we all want better, but just because you don’t have those things yet, it doesn’t mean that you never will…

We’re all just winging it. Literally.








The frogs behind the radiator..



Mum I’m hungry


Guys I want a cuddle and a kiss.

My feet are poking out of my blanket. MY FEET ARE POKING OUT MUM. HELP MEEEEEE

Mum My DVDs gone off again (which is code for ‘mum I purposely turned it off again’)


MUM IM SCARED OF THE SCOOBY DOO MONSTERS (we’ve since banned scooby doo)


Mum can I watch Paw Patrol in the morning if I’m a good boy?

Dad I need the toilet (sits on the toilet, smiles and says ‘I just joking I don’t need one)

Can you imagine. Can you actually imagine putting a toddler to bed without hearing at least 3 of those sentences every night? I genuinely reckon that my neighbours think I torture Joshua once 7pm comes!

If you don’t have that issue, and if you have a partner but you’ve never argued over who’s turn it is to climb the stairs and ‘hammer throw’ the 2 stone walking attitude back into bed – I need tips asap! I think the amount of times I climb the stairs each night is enough to prep me to climb everest. The climbing the stairs and hammer throwing combined, if this blogging malarkey doesn’t work out I might have a new career ahead of me – Olympics here I come WATCH YOUR BACK JESSICA ENNIS! Only kidding, the only gold that interests me are the wispa kind.

I love our bedtime routine (when we stick to it) and most of our cute ‘family memories’ revolve around this time of day, but the idea and the reality of it are entirely different altogether:

  • Bubble bath .. also knows as ‘lets make water castles and drench the bathroom floor’ (water castles, I know, don’t even ask) Brushing teeth.. every night consists of Joshua telling me he doesn’t like the minty toothpaste so I tell him that its not minty its a nice strawberry one – falls for it every time. 
  • Towel cuddles.. these always starts off super cute. We all sing twinkle twinkle or another song, which usually turns into Joshua escaping from my arms, climbing under the blankets soaking my side of the bed and being absolutely certain that we will never find him.
  • Get pyjamas on.. This is when Ryan’s part is completely not essential. Joshua tends to get giddy as he puts his PJs on and it always ends up in a pillow fight/the boys being dinosaurs/jumping on the bed/anything that’ll get Joshua giddy 
  • Story time.. 10 minutes spent deciding which book to read.. usually always ends up being ‘what the ladybird heard’ anyway. Joshua gets snug in bed and then spends another 5 minutes deciding which teddies he wants to snuggle for the night. This seems like his most important decision of the day, I can tell he puts a lot of thought into it, I imagine a lot of tactics goes into it – who’s the comfiest to cuddle? who can help save me from the frogs behind the radiator? who can replace me when I’m out of bed so that mum and dad won’t notice? 
  • Finally, set up DVD, last chance for wee/drink/cuddle/ (who are we kidding, we know full well this is not the ‘last chance’ and we’ll be back up in 0.7 seconds to let him out of his cage to go to the toilet (and no, of course I don’t mean open his safety gate to let him pop out of his room to the loo – I mean let him out of his little metal cage that I padlock him into (if he wants to act like a yapping puppy I might as well treat him like one?!) *
  • Time to ‘relax..  (clean up .. pop upstairs .. watch the first 3 seconds of love island .. pop upstairs .. have a discussion with Ryan about how were going to start ignoring Joshua at night time so that he doesn’t do this forever .. hears Joshua scream crying so run quickly upstairs .. turns out the reason he’s crying hysterically as if he’s being tortured is because his foots poking out of the blanket slightly and he can’t get it to tuck in) .. end up so tired that we don’t do most things we planned to and end up going to bed ourselves.

Repeat the above routine on a daily basis until its gets to a point where you actually put frogs behind the radiator to keep the little shit from getting out of bed..


*If anybody besides my fiancé and my dad actually bother reading this article, please know I don’t actually lock my son in a cage, it was just a joke. (We actually lock him in a cupboard under the stairs and twit twoo at him every now and again, so that one day when he’s old enough he’ll thinks he’s a wizard and we can take him to platform 9 3/4 so we can watch him run into a brick wall for entertainment purposes)








wild nights in, quiet nights out

So Ryan and I are an odd pair. We are literally best friends and our true personalities only come out when nobody else is around.

We’re the kind of couple that would prefer to relax with an alcoholic drink and a curry on a Saturday night curled up on the couch watching a bit of Love Island or any other mind numbing, yet slightly addictive reality TV show (I DESPERATELY WANT CAMILLA TO FIND LOVE!) Or a bru and a series binge (netflix/sky box sets for the win)

But every now and again on a Saturday night, we decide to peel ourselves off of the couch, pack a bag for the sprog and palm him off onto one of his grandparents (praise the lord for grandparents) and explore the Manchester nightlife together.

I absolutely LOVE date nights and the fact that we get to spend time having adult conversations, laughing and drinking together ..


Problem is, we’re a little bit boring, because we HATE crowded places. Some people are all for it, they love the idea of of a huge exciting atmosphere and everybody having a laugh together (and when I’m out with the girls, I do too) but when it’s just the two of us I much prefer a meal in a quiet restaurant or drinks in a bar where we have a slightly private table (I absolutely hate restaurants where the tables are placed really close to each other I do NOT want to see Jim at table 9 sucking the excess juices from his pulled pork burger off of his fingers)

So, for all of you couples that like your own space on a night out, heres a list of my favourite nights out in manchester so far:


The Comedy Store  – We went to the comedy store a few months back and it was absolutely brilliant! We’ve been to a few different comedy nights and the comedy store is the only one I would return to time and time again! 5 brilliant acts, the seating is arranged in a theatre setting, theres a nice little restaurant to eat beforehand downstairs if you wanted, and when the weathers nice you can sit on the locks and enjoy a drink in the sun!


waxyoconnorsWaxy O Connors – Waxy’s is a spacious irish bar in the Printworks, it has lots of ‘quiet areas’ and to be fair its quite a nice setting…



Roxy Ballroom – As far as I’m aware, Its pretty new – and its one of my new favourite places!! Its located on Deansgate (next to Living room) and its 2 floors of ball games. Large pool tables, each with their own seating area, ping pong tables, BEER PONG!! Its absolutely brilliant. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t the cheapest option (Pool is £12 per hour) but we got a deal for an extra half hour free and i’d say it was our favourite part of the night.



for me, you will NEVER beat a cinema date (meerkat movies for the win). No i do honestly love the cinemas. Exciting new film, large tango ice blast, Minimal effort required! What better to do than to catch up on the latest marvel movie (Guardians of the Galaxy 2 is amazing by the way!) .. Pros of our three local cinemas:

Ashton Cineworld: 5 minute drive from us, close to M60 / free parking / surrounded by good food (IF YOU HAVEN’T BEEN, STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND CHECK OUT THE ASH TREE FARM!)

AMC Cinemas: Central manchester / comfy seats / the arms on the chairs lift so you can get extra comfy / close to plenty of pubs/clubs and restaurants

Odeon Trafford Centre: I LOVE the trafford centre. Who doesn’t? Its a haven when you’ve got a few pennies spare (and even when you haven’t but you end up spending them anyway) but I get a nice ‘feel’ from this cinemas. The ice blasts are miles better than cineworld to be fair, and again free parking (yay) – again, lots of nice restaurants around too!

Im pretty sure these are really popular places to all of you ‘Manchester lot’ but if you’re not from Manchester and you’re like Ryan and I, you prefer a little bit of ‘personal space’ when you’re out – i’d definitely consider the above! If not, pop on your comfy socks, find a series on netflix and get a cadburys hot chocolate down your neck!



Supermarket style, Who knew?

I’m not a big fan of shopping…

Well I am, I overspend on stupid things (picture frames, candles, the usual pointless stuff that we categorically do not need) for the sake of it on a daily basis, but I don’t enjoy clothes shopping as much as I think most females do, I’m fussy, and being a bit of a chunk I have to find something that fits my figure properly.

But one thing I think all mums can agree on, is how adorable it is to shop for a little one. I can imagine it must be so much more exciting to shop for a baby girl, but buying a tiny Superman onesie for the first time is exciting in its own way I suppose.

And the exciting ‘firsts’ too. First christmas, halloween / any chance to dress up the little cherub in your life.

But one thing I have done as Joshua’s gotten older, is become more wiser with his clothing. I used to fork out £12 (give or take) for a single t-shirt or pair of joggers from River Island/Next/Mothercare/Insta-shops – which is perfectly fine and a lot of my social media friends still do (I still do on the odd occasion) .. but I have come to realise that there is a wider market full of bargains out there! Why spend £30 on a tracksuit that’s gonna be covered in mud or spaghetti by the end of the day?

I never thought i’d say it, but Supermarkets and Primark are my absolute new fave for bargains.

I recently went to Primark for the first time in a few years for our holiday shop and I was completely overwhelmed with the range for boys. T-shirts for £1.20 each!!!! Shorts for £4 and joggers/jeans from £5 .. I was amazed. I got 12 T-shirts for the price that i’d usually spend on ONE!!

Don’t get me wrong, all shops have good and bad, but I want to show you some of the absolute BARGAINS i have found for Joshua over the past few months and where I got them from:


Beaver pattern tee – £1 Peacocks Morrisons / Joggers £10 for 3 pairs from ASDA George


Tee – £1.20 from Primark! / joggers – £10 for 3 pairs from ASDA George / Adidas Torsion Trainers £32 from JD


Tee – 2 for £6ish (blue stripe and red stripe, both really lovely) from ASDA George / Joggers £5 from Primark


Coat – £34 from NEXT / Tee – £1 from ASDA George / Jeans – £6 from Primark / Wellies £3 ASDA George


I don’t regret spending so much on Joshua’s clothes in the past because he looked absolutely ADORABLE, It just took me some time to realise that he would look equally adorable for half of the price (ha!) and i’d much rather he got absolutely filthy having fun in the park instead of trying to avoid getting his brand new clothes dirty! And besides, in most of my favourite baby photos, he doesn’t even have the clothes on anyway! ..