I could find no better description for this post, it’s about bumholes. If you are easily offended or a little prude, don’t read on. To be honest you probably shouldn’t read any of my posts as I have no filter, but ho hum. I’m still flogging the dead horse that is potty training my two […]
I am not winning at this parenting lark. My plans to be organised and all that jazz are failing on an epic scale; and we woke up this morning at 6am to a fridge containing nothing I could make breakfast out of.
I don’t need to know that after the terrible twos comes other bad ages. The Terrible Two’s should be called the Tragic Terrible Twatting Fucking Horrible Two’s. That would be a better title. Right now it can’t get any worse. I know damn well it can always get worse but I’m having a little pity […]
We popped into town earlier to do some shopping and the small one was a bloody nightmare. I balanced the shopping basket on the hood of the buggy and people looked at me like I’d committed murder. Today is Judgemental Wednesday it seems. Meh. Zero fucks given.
(Original Post Date – 9/2/17 – accidentally deleted the original, bad Lisa) The potty is sending me potty. The mancub was two in November and all I have heard since he was 18 months old is how I should be potty training him.
Our Potty Training is turning into a saga. You could read War and Peace quicker than this shit.
Dear Me, pre-motherhood, AKA 2013-me. You may not believe this but in four years time you will be a mum to a little shit boisterous free-spirited two year old mancub you named the mancub. Crazy right – they’ve just told you that you can’t conceive naturally, that you don’t ovulate.
I usually try and come up with a snazzy intro to poignant posts, but I can’t seem to find one for this one. So I’m going to jump straight in. Boom.
Dear the mancub, I wanted to write you a letter this morning, to tell you how much I love you.
Last Saturday we went on a spontaneous trip to the seaside. Both boys(hubbo and son) were not feeling great; plus we were all getting on each others tits by 10am, so off we went. We went to Hastings in East Sussex which is about an hour from home by car; it’s a pleasant drive through the […]