The Happiness Project: All In The Moment 

Today I got lost in my painting and completely lost track of time. I love that feeling when you’re so into a piece that every inch of your mind is focused on getting that brush stroke just so. – There’s no space for any worries or chatter. – You’re all in the moment. 

I love deciding what colours I’m going to work with and what style I’m going to experiment with that day. I love being a beginner, and feeling like a child at play. I’ve never been to art school, I don’t know any techniques, I just do what feels right and enjoy the process. I trust my instincts and paint what comes naturally.

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5 Things: Alotta Love


5 things that make me smile picking Maia up from Nursery: 


We are fortunate enough to be able to walk to Maia’s nursery. This means I have a good 20-25 minutes of – in-effect- ME-TIME, where I’m able to hear my own thoughts, listen to music, or, say, go over my 5-year plan. I love this time. I try and use it wisely by being mindful and taking in my surroundings, and by this I mean I will literally look at a tree and think “Oh look at that beautiful tree blooming” or “ooh look number 49’s extension’s finally finished, looks fab..”. I purposefully try and steer clear of asking myself any loaded future-based questions like “so what is your purpose in life? ..Is it a steady career? ” or “When and how do you plan to move out of your parents house out”..Those are my top three of “Questions I am not allowed to ask myself on walk-to-nursery.” It’s a very pleasant walk and I like to keep it that way. (With my mind, it would be very easy to go from happy to distressed very quickly and drive myself doo-lally during the 25 minute walk..My mind is like a mischievous dog that needs taming. – It might take a while, but we’ll get there eventually.) 


As I mentioned above, I try and take it all in. I know it sounds naff but this shit works. Feeling all zen just thinking about the trees. Trees, clouds, flowers….Even just a colourful overgrown bush. – It all makes me smile.


The conversation. Sometimes it’s the first time I’ve actually had a conversation with another adult all day. I love these women. They get it, they’ve been through it, they feel my pain and know the joys. I’ve made several new mummy friends these last few weeks, we currently walk home with lovely Mummy Sam and her two daughters. I love getting to know new people and Maia loves the kiddie company. Snaps all round.


The outfits. The inspiration. The COOL. – Seeing what some of the other mummies are wearing. Some of them are just so on point, for some reason this makes me feel good. (You’d expect the opposite but I just like knowing that YES, mothers of young children CAN look cool in real life, not just on Instagram..)

5.) 3:30

Obviously, the actual picking-up of my little joy. I can never quite handle the running-into-my-arms part when it’s her turn to come and meet me. – I’m just lit up from the inside. There’s a lot of love in that room as each child greets their Mummy or Daddy.

Alotta love.



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Confessions of a Single Mother: Loving Myself a Little More

By loving yourself a little more, would it make you a better or worse person?
There’s nothing to be lost from doing so. The world would be a very different place if everyone that didn’t love themselves enough, did so a little more.

Loving yourself can be described (by…) as:

“To have self-respect, a positive self-image, and unconditional self-acceptance. It does not mean being arrogant, conceited or thinking that you are better than anyone else. It means having a healthy regard for yourself knowing that you are a worthy human being.”


I’ve often been told I need to be “a little kinder to myself” or to “give myself a break..”..So this week I made a conscious effort to – without it sounding naff – LOVE myself a whole heap more.

5 ways I have been loving myself a little more this week:

Showing myself a little more compassion. Mentally being more aware of the unhelpful negative-thoughts of not being good enough and either ignoring them or telling them to fuck right off. (I then tell myself not to be a dick. I figured if someone was a dick to me, I’d either ignore them or tell them to fuck off, so I treat my unwanted thoughts the same way).


We come into this world as little bundles of joy, balling our eyes out; we are born loving ourselves. We don’t care what people think, we don’t judge ourselves, we don’t worry we’re not good enough. We just are and we instinctively know how to do things like be present in the moment and communicate our needs effectively. We even mastered the art of eating at a young age only to lose that skill in the busyness of adult life, now we eat whilst watching TV or holding a phone. We often forget we’re even eating as we’re doing it. I’ve been learning how to eat more mindfully recently with the help of Buddhist Monk and Zen Master Thich Naht Hanh.


I have been trying to meditate on and off for about five years. For about six days last month I actually sat down for 20 minutes a day, closed my eyes, and did my version of meditation. I wasn’t able to clear my head for the entire period, but I didn’t worry about anything, and as my thoughts wandered, I kept bringing them back to the present, to my breathing and to random images of say, a candle or a cloud. I felt calmer and clearer after each session and  loved myself a little more for committing to it for those few days.


I don’t really like spending too much time on hair and beauty. Nails, eyebrows, make up. – Beauty in general- there are other things I’d rather be doing. However I do love the feeling after I’ve done my make up or after I’ve transformed my nails from teenage-boy to young-lady, I just get frustrated knowing at the end of the day, all my makeup has to come off, and in 3-4 days my nails will chip, and for about a week I’ll walk around feeling trampy because I have chipped nails. It’s the maintenance I can’t handle. Eyebrow maintenance. Leg hair. Body hair in general.- Even haircuts. Hairdressers recommend every 6-8 weeks… It’s been a year and no one seems to have noticed.

Women have to battle against their own biology day in day out “must not let hair grow back here, here or HERE”. It’s frickin exhausting. How come men can have leg hair and women can’t. How come men can have hairy armpits and women can’t…

This week I decided to embrace all things beauty and just paint my damn nails, put some lipstick on, trim my fringe and remind myself that it’s a multi-billion pound industry for a reason, because it helps women love themselves a little more. And it worked. I remembered how much – pre-Maia- I used to actually love painting my nails and buying new make up. I even used to pay to get my haircut several times a year but I can’t quite bring myself to do that again yet. I spent time moisturising instead of rushing, there’s something about rubbing moisturiser all over your naked body that just screams “I love you body…thank you for being so good to me you nice soft leg, and tummy, and back, and bum, and arms, thank you for all you do my trusted skin, love you”.

In showing Maia how much I love and appreciate her on a daily basis, (not only literally with words and cuddles, but in the time we spend dancing and playing and being silly together), I feel I’m also loving myself in the process. Being authentic with Maia helps me be more true to myself and being a more conscious, accepting parent helps me be more accepting towards myself. 

Being completely present with Maia allows for the space and stillness for her to say things like “Mummy, I really love you”. 

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My Week In 5 Things: Fuzzy Feeling of Gratitude 

5 things that made my week a little brighter: 


Maia turned three last week and I think I enjoyed every minute of the celebrations as much as she did. I woke up with this warm fuzzy feeling of gratitude and excitement that my little girl was another year older. Her face would light up at each and every card and gift, and she’d hug each individual to say thank you. It was a wonderful day…/week.


Enough said.

3.) “HAPPY HOUSE” (Toddler Music Class) 

We’ll be stopping this music class in December. We started it when Maia was 4 months old and moved up through the classes. I shall miss it. – The people, the music, but mostly the DRESS-UP.


I’ve spent many evenings in just sewing and painting. Single-Mummy life is somewhat..colourful.


I don’t know what came over me as I had been trying to implement a “NO BUYING ONLY BORROWING” books rule. But every now and again you need that boost. So I bought the books. And boosted I was.


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Confessions of a Single Mother: SUPER SINGLE MOTHER

These past few weeks have been.. challenging. My mother was away for a week.- A mere week, but it was enough to expose what a vital role she plays in helping take care of Maia at the end of the day. She comes home from work and -depending on the day and how tired she is- she’ll often have Maia for a few hours so I can go to the gym and generally get things done child-free. We have our little mother-daughter late-night-pep-talks and she reminds me life is good and that I will not always be a single mother – something I have to be reminded on a weekly basis…She always has the words and I go to bed in a better mood. (This is all on the days she doesn’t fall asleep at 7pm on the sofa, exhausted from her 5:30am start.) She’s always there, and I’ll often call her during the day at work to check-in if I’m feeling fragile after leaving Maia at nursery. 

Two weeks ago , she was away. A close family member is terminally ill and she had to go and be with her. 

The first few days were fine. I felt almost empowered “doing it on my own”, morning till dark knowing no one would be home at 6pm to relieve me. “It’s a challenge, I can do this” I’d remind myself. I was thriving. 

Come day four, I’m sat on my neighbours sofa sobbing, having left Maia with her Grandad, CBeebies and a packet of hobnobs. The sleep deprivation tipped the scales into “fuck-my-shitty-life-Territory”. The tantrums became all too much and I needed my mother’s calming voice of reason. (She’s not always calm and it sure isn’t always the voice of reason but if I ever raise my voice at Maia, she’ll be the one to say calm-it-woman..) 

My dear neighbour, who I’ve been to numerous times in such states (pre-Maia), sat me down, gave me a glorious helping of chocolate fudge and in her usual awesome way, told me of how a situation with her two year old (now twenty-something year old) once resulted in her locking herself in the garage. (She’s not crazy, she’s a badass, and I adore her.) She gives the best advice, gets straight to the point and always lifts my spirits . She also happens to be one of the most intelligent, quick thinking people I know. Oh, and she has great style, always has that effortlessly cool look, boyfriend jeans and loose t-shirts kind of look. Sometimes I secretly hope some of her cool will rub off on me.. 

Anyway. I’ve never had to lock myself away from Maia but I can see how a situation like that might arise, I did once go and sit inside the car for a much needed moment of quiet.

I regained composure and went home to find Maia asleep on the sofa. The rest of the evening was quite calm and straightforward, but she was still waking me up in the night and I remained sleep deprived for the rest of the week. (Bed at 8pm, to wake at Midnight, 4 am and 6 am is NOT OKAY). 

My mother returned two days later and I’m now slowly recovering from the embarrassment of turning up at my neighbour’s in tears.

The whole experience only made me realise what a difference having a person missing in the household makes. My mum comes home, sees Maia, and has this big bright smile across her face, she lifts Maia in her arms and gives her a big kiss, she’s tired from work but you couldn’t tell. – This lifts me up too. She often brings back little treats for Maia like books or puzzles from charity shops. It only shows how one person’s energy can affect everyone else. 

She’s been home now for a couple of weeks but she’s back to The Philippines again next week for a grand total of twelve days. – But I feel better about her absence this time. 

This time I’m going to embrace it and do all the things I can’t do when my mother’s home. – Like give away my old clothes to charity and clear out the kitchen cupboards. Plus I do feel like it’s good to have some space from one another. We do step on each other’s toes a lot at home- and I mean literally, our kitchen’s tiny. 
So I look forward to the challenge of going it alone for two weeks, I plan to try and be supermum of course. (Lots of baking, arts and crafts, trips to local country parks and absolutely zero TV or refined sugar.. will obviously try not to lose my shit and end up on my neighbour’s sofa with chocolate fudge this time). 
My mother is very much my partner in raising Maia, though I do often still feel like a single mother. 

Without her around I really am…SUPER-SINGLE-MOTHER. *adorns cape* 

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The Happiness Project: The Reading List


I try and make time to read every day. (And by that I mean, I’ll attempt to go to bed an hour earlier to fit in some reading,  but then get distracted with laundry/putting away toys/sorting through various objects/watching a particularly inspiring interview on Youtube/chatting to a friend…and end up reading for three minutes at 23:45 before falling asleep. Last night I had a good two hours to myself and what did I do? I went food shopping…) It doesn’t always work out.

At the start of the year I had a goal of reading 36 books this year. I really believed three a month would be manageable. I’ve read 20. (Okay some were plays which I read in a few hours but they still count as books). So 36 was a little over ambitious but the intention was there and I’m still proud of the 20 I have read. And the year’s not over yet.

So here is my reading list for the rest of the year:

1.) The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

I’m halfway through this and really enjoying it. It had glowing reviews and I was mesmerised with the author Paulo Coelho’s interview on  Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday. Plus, my Aunty Ruth had a copy readily available to borrow. (When my Aunty Ruth’s read a certain book, you read that book..)


2.) Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse

This was given to me by my Uncle Ed five years ago and I still haven’t read it. Other books kept cropping up and like many old and worthy reads, this one would get pushed further and further down the line.

My Uncle Ed is one of the wisest, weirdest, most interesting people I know and I could sit and talk to him for hours ( well I have done..). I know some clever people, but he’s probably the most fascinating of them all. Again, if he gives you a book, you frickin read the book, even if you’re five years late. 


3.) Proof by David Auburn

My drama teacher told me to read a play a week. Unfortunately it has been more like a play a month but I’m determined to change this. Plays can be read in a matter of hours and I know I could finish this one in a weekend.

4. ) Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling

This one’s just to lighten the load really. The other three reads are a little heavy at times so I feel I’ll need something to restore the balance.  No spiritual development, no searching for one’s true destiny, no monologue hunting..Just a witty woman and her hilarious stories. I would also recommend her first book “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?”– I read it and very much felt like I’d made friends with the woman herself.


“It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it.”

– Oscar Wilde



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My Week in 5 Things: Dear Crazy Mama

5 things that made my week a little brighter:


The pride I felt picking Maia up from Nursery this week.


The joy of wearing short shorts again. – The fact that we even had the weather for short shorts. (Because today it’s grey and raining and I wore my thick puffy duffel coat..The short shorts days are over. OVER). 


I took Maia to the park just before dinner. She was adamant she would walk either backwards with her eyes open or forwards with her eyes closed all the way home. She walked into a bush. It made us both laugh.

 Our matchy-matchy far-too-long laces. 


We had some painters over this week to re-paint the outside of our house. (We’ve lived here for over ten years and it still isn’t finished, interior/exterior/garden, it’s all a work in progress). There were several disputes over the colour of our front door. (I didn’t really have a leg to stand on given it’s not actually my house…) – But I’m actually really pleased with the outcome. The outcome being my parent’s choice of RED. Yep, we have a red front door. Not a bright-blood-red thank goodness, but a deeper-dark-red. It works surprisingly well. It’s also much easier to simply agree with my mother on such trivial matters. Much, much easier.


Speaking of my mother. We may have our disagreements but the woman’s a frickin Saint. I could not be without her. I mean literally. Not only did she give me life, she also makes sure I still have my life, after giving life myself.  If that makes sense. The kindest, most wonderful, crazy, hilarious woman I know. I love you woman.

Thank you, dear crazy Mama, for everything you do. 

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Maia’s Adventures: “So Happy To See You!”


Maia had her first three days (well half-days) of nursery this week.

Day 1: Dropped her off with no problem. She simply ran off to join the group, leaving me holding back the tears. Didn’t even get a kiss goodbye.

Tears at lunch time when she wanted to try another child’s crisps, and upon pick-up when she saw me but had to wait her turn before running into my arms (a little unfair that she could see me across the room yet was held back as there were other mummies in front of me in the line..) She greeted me with  the words “Mummy I’m so happy to see you!!” (the feeling was mutual, although the four hours flew by, I was beyond relieved to have her back in my arms..all in one piece).

Day 2: Slight hesitation when I dropped her off but no tears.

Teachers said she didn’t actually eat anything at lunch ( which explained why she devoured her cheese sandwich and bread sticks on the way home).

Day 3: Just a “Mummy I don’t want you to go..can you stay and dance with me?” (They were doing singing and dancing..) When her teacher tried to lead her to the group, she said “NO! I want to go there BY MYSELF!”. 

A few tears at lunch but the teacher said only a couple of minutes and completely fine after that.

All in all I am extremely proud of my little darling. I thought the first few days were going to be horrible. I had visions of teachers having to tear her away from me, then having to walk home -sobbing- with hysterical crying in the background. But nope, she was a trooper.

She’s taken this new experience all in her stride and aside from some lunch-box envy and the inevitable “I want my mummy to bring me my usual nice hot food, not this cold-box-crap”.. she seems to be loving it. 

What’s more, seeing her little face light up with I arrive to collect her sends what I can only describe as the-purest-form-of-joy through my veins. That smile is everything.

“Yeh, looks alright.” 


I ‘ve come to really enjoy mealtimes with Maia. There’s still a lot of coming and going ( on my part), a lot of fetching (milk, water, straws, cheese..). Meals are still one request after another. But for the most part, she is a lot of fun to dine with. (Plus I can munch on crumpets and peanut butter on toast and call it being economical because we wouldn’t want to waste all that salty-no-doubt-highly-nourishing-goodness would we…).

Here she is on Friday morning. Her first experience with cornflakes and the crumpet I later ate. And yes that dog spent most of Friday morning at her side. She always has a soft toy to accompany her at breakfast.



She loves to dance. As does her mother. At the moment we’re into 80’s Classics. I managed to keep her still for a total of 20 seconds to take these photos. No I didn’t plan the matchy-matchy white shirts.


The glorious sunshine had to end eventually. So we baked. Sugar-free banana bread-in-a-cake-tin and not-so-sugar-free chocolate chip cookies. There was a lot of “MUMMY CAN I MIX?” Of course I let her mix..and then I kindly took over, because we don’t want lumpy bumpys in our perfectly-imperfect cookies now do we (..and because I was beginning to lose my cool with all the flour going everywhere and her demands to add more water to an already watery mixture.) I find baking with a toddler highly stressful. “YES YOU CAN CRACK THE EGG, NO, NOT DIRECTLY INTO THE MIXTURE UNLESS YOU WANT CHOC-CHIP-EGG-SHELL-COOKIES”…)


We had some painters over to re-paint our house. Maia wanted to join them so I said instead of climbing on the roof with them – as safe and child friendly as this would be – I compromised and said we could do some painting outside. (*She is post-bath here, hence the slick locks).


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Confessions of a Single Mother: TODDLERHOOD

Sometimes I forget I am the parent of a toddler.

I wonder “why am I so exhausted? What’s wrong with me? I haven’t even left the house yet!”

And then this happens:
“We’re going to the library now darling”.

And I am reminded exactly why.

I forget that this is one of the hardest times, that all toddlers hold the power to push their weary parents to the limit, and that the tantrums, sulking and incessant demands are very very normal.

I forget that toddlerhood, by nature, is extremely tough for all parents.

But however standard their behaviour, however universal, however common it is for our tiny humans to go through seven different emotions – Bi-Polar, they are ALL bi-polar – in the space of 30 seconds; it doesn’t make it any easier for us. It doesn’t make the battle of wills any less challenging, though it is reassuring to know we will all go through the same daily tests of patience and persistence. (And endurance, lets not forget endurance). And that we can all laugh and cry about it together later, at some point, in the distant future, when we’re not doing laundry or cutting crusts off triangular pieces of toast.

I’ve been reading the same parenting book for months now; dipping in and out of it, taking notes, going back over chapters. I want to take it all in because it’s one piece of parenting literature that is– and this word makes me cringe a little but I am going to use it anyway – hugely EMPOWERING. I actually think it feeds me special-parenting-energy every time I read it. It has words of wisdom that I just want to hand out in little booklets at maternity wards across the world.

I will do more of a summary of this book when I’m ready to give it back to the library, including some of the practical advice that the remarkable Dr Tsabary offers, but for now I just want to share some extracts from one chapter describing the crazy-stage that is toddlerhood. These words really made me smile and brought me a lot of comfort in their spot-on description, reminding me once again, that what I am experiencing is very much the norm.

Extracts from The Conscious Parent by Dr Shefali Tsabary (Clinical Psychologist):

“As a child’s desire to express its uniqueness kicks in, it heralds a trying time for parents. Children in the two’s can be exasperating, draining us of patience. We tell them to go here, and they go there. We tell them up, and they choose down. We tell them no, and they scream or wail until we experience unbecoming fantasies of what we would do we them if only we could get away with it.

“Unpredictable and impetuous, manipulative and attention-seeking, they can be moody, sullen, clingy, defiant, rowdy and tempestuous. We spend hours taking them to activities, arranging fun times with friends, preparing for their birthday party, and yet they are ungrateful and exploitive. Ravenous in their greed, they love us when they want something, whereas the next moment it’s as if we didn’t exist.”

“Toddlerhood is a planet all in its own. Nothing prepares us for the onslaught of its wrath or the endearing confusion of its budding independence.

“…The child who is perfectly angelic one minute can turn into a raving lunatic the next. The sweet-tempered tot can become a finger-biting terror in an instant….

“…Toddlerhood is a chaotic phase of a child’s life both emotionally and physically. Messy, undefined, disorderly, ever-changing, and unpredictable, there are no neat and tidy answers here. No broom is wide enough to sweep away the dust, grit and grubbiness of toddlerhood.

“…While this phase often feels impossible for both parent and child, it’s truly magnificent to witness. This is the phase in which the child’s sense of self begins to blossom, as it begins to explore its creativity, curiosity, and independence. Toddlers are spectacular, invincible in their fantasies, limitless in their potential. They want to fly high in the sky, sail the seven seas, explore the world, and stay awake till dawn….

“As we watch our toddler’s insatiable curiosity for life, we are reminded that we too can engage the moment with full abandon, living in wonder and awe….”

Oh I’m in awe alright. From the tears to the laughter, the mundane to the magical. I’m in awe of my daughter every, single, day.



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Confessions of a Single Mother: F*** Mummy Guilt

Mummy guilt is everywhere. I mean it’s literally there waiting for me at every turn:

It’s there when I lose my temper.

When I give in to my daughter’s pleas for anything with too much sugar.

When she asks for the iPad.

When she politely requests for her nails to be painted when I know she shouldn’t be inhaling the chemicals.

When I glance at my phone for a little too long when I’m with her.

When I leave her downstairs on her own for a moment to pee then get distracted and end up putting laundry away/tidying up.

When I take her to the park and I think “This is getting boring. I could be at the gym right now”.

When I have any thought that appears to be taking this precious time I have with my daughter for granted.

When I think of going away for a weekend and leaving her with my parents.

When she’s taking her time on the stairs and I think “Jesus how long does it take..”.

When I dropped her off at nursery and felt a great sense of relief.

When I told a friend I couldn’t wait for her to be full-time at school.

When I told her off for spinning around in my room as I was scared she’d hit her head on the corner of my bed, but it came out as a rather firm: “STOP IT” (She would have heard it as “STOP ALL THIS FUN”) meanwhile I was busy applying bronzer as I hadn’t worn make up in a while and had forgotten what a healthy glow looked like. I explained I didn’t want her to hurt herself but the look on her face said it all: “Mummy, why are you so angry looking? What have I done wrong? I’m enjoying my own company as you’re too busy putting brown stuff on your face, and you won’t let me play with your special brown stuff…” .

And the list goes on.

It’s like I’m just looking for reasons to feel crap about my parenting. It’s so easy to tally up all the bad stuff, the weaker moments, we forget to notice all the great stuff. – The healthy meals, the bed-time stories, the most hilarious bath-times, the various activities, the playdates, the little outings, the moments we are 101% present with our children, the special little conversations you just want to replay over and over, the moments we’re just plain silly and completely let loose with them, all that singing and dancing.

Then I have moments where I just feel plain shit.  -That I’m truly the worst; too young to be a parent and feeling like the older mothers must have experiences they can draw upon that I haven’t had yet, that they must have more patience for their children. They’re older and wiser but how does their parenting compare to mine? No no, I tell myself, don’t compare, it’ll only get you down, just remember Maia has got her older and wiser Grandma around to teach her all the stuff that twenty-three year old Mummy may not have learnt yet.

I feel as though we’re all a little too hard on ourselves. Okay very very hard on ourselves. Almost like a real internal beating some days. I forget I am a human being with feelings and emotions, not a robot designed to operate at maximum capacity all day long, never losing its cool or falling out of place.

Maia might never learn to like kale, she might always watch a bit too much Peppa and overhear the word F*** every now and again; but she has a mother that always does her best, every day, and this is what matters. I am always striving to be a better parent – I read the parenting, personal development and nutrition books FFS. I don’t half-arse anything.

So now, if I catch myself-mid-tantrum – thinking; “Well this sucks, I’m way too young to be doing this, Maia deserves better than me. She deserves a woman with more life-experience, more patience, just someone BETTER..”…I stop myself. I stop the madness before it escalates into “HERE GRANDMA YOU HAVE HER AND I’LL GO TAKE YOUR JOB…”. I quickly calm the crazy.

We mothers experience “THE GUILT” whatever our situation because whichever way you look at it, it’s never quite perfect, and of course we all want to get it just right. Stay at home mums feel guilty that they’re not earning money, and then feel guilty for wishing they were at work. Working mums feel guilty they don’t have more time with their kids. Working stay at home mums feel guilty they can’t give their children their full attention when at home. – All the while simply doing what we have to, what works for our families because often we don’t have a choice…We feel guilty about doing something we have to do. And we feel guilty about choosing to work because it looks as though we don’t want to spend every waking hour with our wonderful children and what does this say about us?… –THE GUILT IS ALL MADNESS, ITS ALL MADNESS. I can see where it originates, it comes from a good place, from not wanting to f*** up as a parent, it comes from wanting to be the best for our children, give them the very best start in life and show them how much love and care for them…but here’s the thing: they know how much we love and care for them, and they are getting the very best start in life. 

I recently watched a video by two hilarious, crazy, pretty darn fabulous mothers that altered my hard-hitting and self-deprecating stance. It was called “FUCK MOM GUILT”. It listed all the reasons mothers have to feel guilty. And there are many when you list them all out. Of course none of them are particularly reasonable; they’re all geared towards a perfect existence where everything is ideal and everyone at their best. We could spend all day every day feeling guilty about all the things we’re getting “wrong”, or not quite perfect, or that Sally mummy of four down the street is doing so much better than us. OR we could say “Y’know, my kids are healthy, they’re happy, we’re good people, I’m not doing so bad..”. It made me realise: you can never win, because it will never be good enough, because we all have high such standards. There will always be someone else “doing better than you”, and THAT’S OKAY. YOU’RE DOING GREAT. YOU’RE DOING YOUR BEST. You’re truly an extraordinary human and you do not deserve to put yourself through any kind of guilt, motherhood is hard enough as it is. Trust yourself and trust your instincts because your child is just as happy and healthy as the next…

So I decided after this video to F*** Mummy Guilt.  Calling BULLSHIT on all the: “Aren’t you an awful Mummy for letting her sleep at 10pm..This could be permanently damaging you know.” A lot of what we tell ourselves is bollocks, and we need to remember this. We need to set an example and be kind to ourseleves, believe in ourseleves and our children will do the same.

Now, every time I feel a pang of guilt for anything I know I don’t need to feel guilty about; I literally say “FUCK YOU MUMMY GUILT, YOU HAVE NO HOME HERE, YOU’RE NOT HELPING ME, FUCK RIGHT OFF”.

And it usually does.

And we’re all happier for it.

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