How do I get a baby?

Children come out with the most random things at the most random times. Today Scarlett decided to ask me how she can get a baby when we were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner.

Aside from being annoyed because I had to put down my knife and fork while I thought of a suitable explanation for the baby thing (I hate being interrupted while I am eating), it also made me realise how one day I was going to have to explain to her what the real deal is with sex.

For now though I settled on saying that babies come from special cuddles between a boy and a girl. Satisfied with that answer she then asked sensibly: ‘What if I don’t want to have a baby?’

I said to her - with more force than intended: ‘You both make sure that you protect yourselves!’

Then I added that there was a lot more to life than having babies and she should live her dreams first before she worried about anything like that. For effect I added there is a lot of puke and poo involved with babies and then I offered her a biscuit. She skipped off biscuit in gob and I grabbed my laptop to Google what I should tell my six-year-old about sex.

I will make sure she is well informed on the matter in time but at this age it all feels a bit too soon. I intend to put her off ever having sex with what I tell her and show her. If I was the Prime Minister I would make sure that an episode of one born every minute would be shown in schools everyday for girls from age 12. I bet teenage pregnancies would drop significantly.

Back to Google and there are 163,000,000 hits for ‘What to tell a six year old about sex’. I would say I was open mouthed at that figure but that could be misconstrued, so I will just say I was shocked.

Babycentre.com advice is for parents to be calm and relaxed when talking about sex. Ok, fine all good on that front. Then further down the page it says: ‘Many adults feel awkward talking about sex with their child because they don't have much practice doing it and because they're afraid of telling too much once a discussion gets going.’

That is my biggest fear, telling her too much so that the next day she walks into school like some mini sex guru. I can just imagine being dragged to the headmistress and her demanding to know why Scarlett can describe the ins and outs of the male and female body.

I am still mortified about the time when I had to go and speak to her nursery because she was getting the other children to pull down the trousers and pants in the playhouse. And people wonder why I worry about her being a teenage mother.

Thankfully she is now asking about where doughnuts come from and there have been no more questions about babies, but I still have 162,999,999 sites to go through to make sure I don’t psychologically damage my child when it comes to sex.

Faking it

This morning my daughter caught the flu- child flu.

If you are unaware of what child flu is, I will give you a description...
Child flu is where a child wakes up on a school morning perfectly fine, then on the car journey to school starts complaining of a ‘hurty’ tummy. The child then starts to cry and complains that it ‘hurts soooooooooo bad!’
As soon as the child is home they go to bed for ten minutes before the sound of their VTech toy (no she does not have an iPad. I am a mug, but not that much of one) starts to play. Then said child runs around laughing without a care in the world.

If this has been the case for you today, you need to join the Mum Mug Club with me.

I had an inkling she was faking her illness, but the last time I thought that my daughter proceeded to throw up and poo on me at the same time to prove her point. So, this morning I was cautious and took her home.

Now I feel like a total moron. Every time I ask her if she feels ok, she clutches her tummy and winces. The Oscar for the Best Female Actress goes to Scarlett Venderpump. (Vanderpump is not her actual second name but I am protecting her name as this is the web. Vanderpump is a fantastic second name though. I borrowed it off Lisa Vanderpump from The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills programme. ITVBe is the best channel ever invented all those housewives and so little time, though I seem to find enough to watch The Real Housewives of Cheshire, Atlanta, Melbourne, Orange County and Little People LA and Atlanta.)

I am one of the most unsympathetic people with sick people. If you are ill, call me to let me know and don’t come near me until a month has passed. Sorry but you are yuck and I don’t need that.

Situations like this just make me even more hardened, now Scarlett will only have herself to blame when the next time she is (Inset HUGE air quotation marks here) ‘Sick’. I will not listen and she will go to school every day. Apart from weekends, though I think the Education Minister needs to look at that, I may have to send an email after this.

There are some obvious exceptions to the rule of going to school when ‘ill’. If she is really ill and proves it (with vomit, broken bones, blood or poo), then I will not make her go, but all in all, the dramatics and sad face will not wash with me anymore.

I could really bang on about this and REALLY rant, but Scarlett is currently chasing the dog around the house so I have to rescue him before he has a heart attack and he has to go to the ruddy vet.

Children and pets, who would have them? Oh yea, us in the Mum Mug Club.

Once upon a time...

There were three little girls.

They all had flowing golden hair and smiled like butter wouldn't melt.

Through all the day they played, talked, and screamed with joy from 6AM until 10PM (sometimes until 11PM if they were feeling particularly mischievous).

No matter what their parent/guardian did (I say guardian as I am only mother to one of them and I would hate it if someone referred to themselves as my child's mother when they did not give birth to the bowling ball headed child), the children would not tire. Apart from the youngest who would typically fall asleep on the sofa at 5pm just as the nightly dinner of pizza/pesto pasta/other cheap carbohydrate from the kitchen store was being served.

At 7pm all of the little girls brushed their teeth, still screaming, still talking and still giggling about various things and poo.

Their parent/guardian read them a story with gusto to keep them laughing as a last ditch attempt to help them fall asleep.

Little did they know the little girls were already plotting behind their backs like little annoying mice.

As soon as the 'I love you's' were said and the light from the bulb had faded, the little golden girls were up and out of their beds.

The girls parent/guardian crept up the stairs to see which little mite was leading the pack, but the scurry of little feet and laughter told them it was all of them.

One by one the little girls were separated and put into different rooms, the guardian felt like a wicked guardian but 7.05 was wine time, so although she was torn, she knew it was for the best.

For 2 nights the little girls have been separated at bedtime and the house is as happy as can be.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The importance of toilet paper

Good quality toilet paper.

Living with six kids and three adults, our house can become at times chaotic- to say the least.

From cries of 'Get off me!' 'Leave me alone!' to the girls screaming from the moment they wake up to the minute they are separated at bedtime, there is one cry which is screamed more often than any other...

'There is no toilet paper!'

Luckily we have three toilets, so sometimes I am able to scrabble together a few sheets and hand them over to the wanting person, but weirdly we seem to run completely out of toilet paper a heck of a lot.

Thinking he was being helpful (bless him for trying), my partner decided to get a haul of 36 toilet rolls to get us through the next two weeks. I don't know if his intention was to help save the planet by getting recycled toilet rolls, or if he simply ordered the most he could at one time- but we have all suffered from his mistake.

Recycled- from what?! Branches and twigs?!

I was lucky to not be scarred from childbirth, but the money he saved on this paper will be needed to pay for the scarring I have acquired over the past few days.

Pain in the ass does not cover it.

Sorry to be so crass but I feel like this is a public health warning.

Don't tell my partner but I squirreled a few extra sheets of toilet roll from Mc Donald's earlier so I could have some light relief. Actually, don't tell Mc Donald's either. I don't know how they would feel about me taking their toilet roll- though I could call it tax because they put the price up on Happy Meals. £1.99 was a bargain, over £2.19 is not.

Anyway, You have been warned. About the toilet roll, and the (un) Happy Meals.

Should I feelt guilty for abandoning the kids?

Because I don't.

I have been absent for a while because I was on holiday at an all inclusive resort in Fuerteventura, childless.

Before I went, many people asked if me and my partner were bringing our four children. I looked at them gaily, and with a smile which reached my eyes (and went well beyond), said: 'No.'

'But don't you feel guilty leaving them behind?' They asked.

No.

And I will tell you what- it was blooming blissful.

Though I did have thoughts on the plane of commandeering a child for a few hours from the pool, but weirdly when we got to the complex, those thoughts scurried away and hid under the rock where they first came from.

A surrogate puppy in the apartment next to ours lessened the pain of not being with our children and puppy, and we were allowed to behave like adults (ok maybe like children).

We remembered what it was like to leave the apartment whenever we wanted without being delayed by little legs searching for toys called rainbow unicorn bear. We sat on the beach and actually relaxed, there was no constant panic of a child drowning at sea. We caught crabs (the type you don't need medication for), ate whatever WE wanted and didn't have to worry about getting a babysitter for the evenings.

I know not everyone is as fortunate as we are, but abandoning the kids for a week truly did wonders for my soul, however I did get my comeuppance.

My nose is now so red, Rudolph is out of the running for leading the sleigh this year and the temperature was near freezing when we landed at Gatwick. I almost had to go to the hospital on the way home to be treated for hypothermia, as I was wearing a short skirt and vest top because I wanted to show off my tan/sunburn.

Back to reality now, Scarlett is currently arguing with me because I want the last biscuit. She said she missed me, but not that much.

she is so childish.

No more babies!

Why is it that when we are in new relationships the baby chemicals in our bodies try to tell us it would be a brilliant idea to have a baby?

Not just in women as I have found out the men can catch a dose of the baby making chemicals too, and I do not just mean the taking part in making one bit.

After many discussions some joking (from me) others I am not so sure about (from him), me and my boyfriend have agreed four children is enough for us.

Many of our friends have rolled their eyes and said ‘No, in a couple of years you will have another one.’ Although there is a flutter of a yes somewhere in my body, my brain is sensibly taking over and saying no.

I am done with the getting up in the night, with the potty training and crying. I have no desire to go back to the constant worry of having to watch a baby and pretend that i have a clue what I am doing- or so I thought until yesterday...

We have expanded our family, a baby peeing and keeping me up at night has entered our home in the form of a puppy.

Yesterday my boyfriend said he was going out, he told me he was going to get a puppy but I didn’t actually really believe him until a bundle of fur wrapped in a blanket was cradled in his arms after a seven hour round journey.

Hades (yes named after the ancient Greek God of the underworld, we are not ones for standard names obviously), became my new baby the second I set eyes on him.

He is the most beautiful Siberian Husky who has ever existed and my mothering instincts of looking after a baby have come flooding back, much to his and my families bemusement.

When the kids came and stroked him when he was on my lap, I was instantly protective when the little creatures were putting their hands all over my precious newborn. Me and my boyfriend agreed Hades should sleep downstairs- ha yea right!

Obviously the first few hours were going to be hard for him, so the second we heard him whimpering, we ran downstairs and brought him into our bed. We were making sure the kids got a good night sleep and did not get disturbed by him- that is what we told ourselves.

We played with him for about 10 minutes when he wriggled up next to me, aww we are bonding I thought-then the smell came. If you have ever smelt a dog fart you will know the stench is enough to make you sick, well, try having a dog poo literally 2 inches away from your face.

Off came the dog, bed sheets and duvet, I laughed, forgave the little monkey and crawled back into bed. We kept the en-suite light on in our bedroom so he would not be in the dark, however I can’t sleep with any sort of light near me, I moan when it creeps in through the crack in the door between the frame, so I turned it off- bad mother.

Hades decided he wanted my side of the bed, so I shifted down it until I was in the foetal position and told myself I was comfortable. Then the whimpering started, he got up had a wee and the settled back down again by my feet.

I won’t bore you but basically it was a very broken night of sleep with a lot of getting up and crying, but as a somewhat experienced mother (ha), I knew it wouldn’t last.

At ten to six I got up as he was hungry, (it was actually ten to seven but the clocks went back so I lost an hour and feel ten to six better describes the lack of sleep I had.

Now, our puppy is not just any puppy- there is no cheap dog food from a tin in our house. His diet is freshly cooked chicken and rice- yes I was cooking chicken and boiling rice at TEN TO SIX for a dog. They may be a man’s best friend, but he was not really mine at that moment in time. Luckily he has the cutest face, so my grumpiness did not last for long.

An hour later with Hades asleep in his bed in the living room with me, the pitter patter of tiny feet came down the stairs. Three very excited little girls came in squealing at him, I literally had to bat them away from him.

When a more normal time of day arrived and I felt more alive (12pm), I was ready to face the day and mummy my puppy.

I had the overwhelming urge every time one of the kids went near him to push them away from him, the pressures of being a mother to a baby hit me. If someone else held him, I had to stop myself from grabbing him off them. Every time he did a wee on the newspaper laid out for him, a sense of pride took over me. When he slept, I gazed at him and when he whimpered a cradled him like a baby and sang him a lullaby.

Writing this has been hard as I have had to tear myself away from him and I am dreading going back to work.

It seems the baby chemicals in my body have taken over, tomorrow I writing a blog called ’10 things to never say to the mother of a new puppy.’ Am I weird, or does this happen to every new puppy mother?

A Little Mix up

Little Mix have got themselves into a bit of bother recently while on tour due to their outfits on stage.

Parents and concert goers have blasted the sexy outfits raging about them all over the internet.

While I agree the outfits leave little to the imagination, what do fans and parents want to see Little Mix dressed up in, T-shirt and jeans?

Perrie defended their choice of clothing and said: ‘We put on such a big show and there’s a lot of dancing and it gets really hot out there.

‘I like to feel free and have something I can move around in.’

I can understand both sides of the argument, the critical parent in me is screaming at them to put some more clothes on, and the other more understanding part of me agrees with Perrie’s explanation.

As parents we have to explain a lot of things to our children and that is exactly what needs to happen in this situation.

We need our children to understand they are performers, they do not go around in their everyday lives dressed in these costumes.

While Little Mix have a lot of young impressionable female fans, as long as they understand that the clothes they are wearing are so they can jump around on stage and show off their dance moves and not what they would wear wandering down the street then where is the harm in what they wear?

We are all too quick to slam each other but when was the last time you saw a young girl group parading around the stage all night in tracksuits?

Flipping the coin, maybe the outfits don’t need so many bits cut out of them and they could show a tad less flesh, but I don’t feel the need to send my daughter to a convent because she has seen a bit of leg.

If she asks me why they are wearing clothes like that, I will just explain to her that is what they wear on stage while they are singing and dancing so they can move around and not get too hot. Then I imagine she will go back to playing with her Barbie’s without giving it a second thought.

As usual, it is just something else that has been blown out of proportion.

What do you think?

(Original article in Star magazine, I took a photo on my phone of the above as I have not actually been to the concert myself, so did the next best thing!)