#MummyFail

I'm not going to be entered for any "Mum of the Year" awards. I know that.

Being a Mum is just not quite what I expected.  We're thrown images of women with babes in arms, looking lovingly whilst they're being fed. Of happy children playing in the snow, not crying because they are so cold and the snowman whose only about 1 foot tall wont stand up.

I'm shown adverts on television of kids happily playing board games.  I'm assuming these kids are not siblings otherwise one would be crying the other storming off after launching the game board in the air.  In these adverts houses are immaculate.  Mine's like a bomb-site. I'm sure the six year old carries pocket grenades around. No room is safe.

The 10 year old has a bad attitude is uncooperative and negative. I've already posted about our homework hell.  I hate the homework and the weekends of pain. Except now it's stretched out all week as he gets homework Tuesday and Friday.

His attitude to homework is lazy, slapdash and hap-hazard. Chuck in a couple of tantrums, pen throwing and shouting at the 6 year old and you're beginning to get the picture.

When my day ends like this, you know it's a #MummyFail.

What's not been your best parenting hour?

Doctor Who?

When I was a child, Doctor Who was in my opinion, one of the best shows on television.  I put Worzel Gummidge in that bracket too so you can see how high my childhood bar was set.

Tom Baker was the Doctor of my young years. He ran around wearing a big hat and a long scarf. He had K-9 the dog and a male and female companion.  I don't remember too much really. There were Daleks that I could never fathom why they were so scary when they couldn't navigate stairs (they couldn't fly in those days). And of course the Cyborgs.  My older brother would hide behind a cushion but I would sit and watch. This gave me bragging rights over being braver than he was.

When Doctor Who returned in my adult years, I didn't bother. I didn't watch the Christopher Ecclestone and Billie Piper years.  When he regenerated into David Tennant I started to watch again. Now I've watched David Tennant regenerate into Matt Smith and again into Peter Capaldi.  

It always takes time to get used to a new Doctor. It's a bit of a shift. I'm mourning the loss of the sonic screwdriver to a pair of sunglasses . I bet the toy manufacturers are mourning this loss too.  But, I also feel like I just don't "get it" any more.  It's too hard to understand. I find it harder and harder to follow the plots and I certainly don't think my 10yo would be able to either. He's jut hit an age when it's suitable for him but it's not a children's show any more. You need a degree to navigate the plots, sub-plots and story arcs.

So it is with a little sadness I think it's time to hang up my sonic screwdriver, wrap my scarf around my neck and set the Tardis free.

It's been good knowing you Doctor.

In Sickness And In Health.

I met MrM in 1998. Our relationship progressed the way these things do. He proposed; I said yes and we married in a beautiful ceremony in 2001.

When we married, I took my vows very seriously. I may have crossed my fingers at the obey bit but overall, I meant what I was saying. Vowing before God and family and friends that I was marrying this man and this was it.

Since then we've had many ups and down. All relationships do and we've always managed to work at it and are still smiling 17 years on.

But, there's one problem. It's MrM.  if he was a dog, he'd have been put down. If he was a horse, he'd be glue or put out to pasture.  There's always something wrong.  I don't mean he's a hypochondriac and luckily he doesn't have anything seriously wrong. It's just a series of things that are never ending.

THIS WAY UP

I've lost count of the amount of operations he's had.  At least two on his ankles, one on his bum sphincterotomy - (only look if you're brave). He's been knocked off his motorbike, breaking his elbow and giving his knee a lovely scar. He had a chest infection and passed out DRIVING THE CAR! Luckily in a park mid morning in the week and no-one was hurt. He was hospitalised with severe food poisoning.  He suffered for years with IBS. Red meat was a factor so we spent a lot of time eating a white meat and fish diet.  Migraines; debilitating migraines until he saw a neurologist and is now on preventable tablets for the rest of his life.  Funnily enough when the migraines got sorted the IBS greatly improved too.  The list goes on.

At the moment Mr.M is sporting a cast on his right hand.  Playing football, a stint in goal and BAM! a fractured thumb, a chipped bone and torn ligaments. It may need surgery, we're waiting to find out.

I'm just hoping that our children don't inherit Daddy's knack for being poorly!