Pull Up Your Big Girl Pants

4 Feb

Hello again.   It’s been a while.

This blog is not about potty training, although I shall be entering that fresh hell again soon with my smallest.  It’s about whiners, whingers and, ultimately about being a grown-up.

I’ve seen and heard a lot of twatty comments about a lot of parenting-related issues in the last few weeks, amd most of it can be resopnded to with one or both of these wonderful phrases: Grow The Fuck Up and Mind Your Own Business.

People can raise their kids however they want as long as those kids are well cared for.   You don’t need to approve or agree with other parenting choices, but equally, you are allowed an opinion on them.  I have a lot of opinions. I’m that kinda person.

Several things got my goat.

School run PJs

In my opinion this is skanky.  And lazy.   And just plain weird.   But if you wanna do the school run in your onesie GO RIGHT AHEAD.  But I will judge you.  Silently.  Becasue I’m polite.   There’s always the arguement that mums are sleep deprived (Yep, but plently have a full time job which frowns upon nightwear, and they manage ok).  Then I read the mental health argument.   Yep, again, if you’re unwell, mentally of physically, then getting dressed is much more difficult and also much less important than getting your kids to school.  Im not talking about these reasons as they’re not the norm.  For most pj wearers I think it’s just a choice they have made.  I’ve seem ladies in pjs, dressing gown, Uggs and full make up, so it’s definitely not a case of ‘not enough time’.   If you genuininely dont have the 20 seconds it takes to pull on jeans and a jumper, try getting up one minute earlier, FFS.   Also, PJs Lady, if you are just making the choice to go out like that, don’t bother trying to justify it or explain it away with excuses or reasons why it doesn’t make you a bad parent.  Just wear your PJs with pride, sister.

Mothehood Photo Challenge

Righto, so we are clear, posting pictures of your kids is annoying, thoughless, hurtful, boring, dangerous, invasive, cruel, smug, dull, devastating and/or stupid.  Take your pick.  (FWIW I think it’s cute).

If you don’t like what your friends are posting on Facebook then the Hide or Unfriend button is always there.  It’s your problem.  Take action to resolve the problem or suck it up, buttercup.   What you post on Facebook is your business, and the same goes for other poeple.  I have a Zero Tolerance policy for anything I find offensive.   I am so well aquainted with the Unfriend button, you might say the Unfriend button is my friend.

I post a lot of pictures of my kids on social media.   It’s my choice and frankly I don’t see it as a risk.  Real life paedophiles can see my real life kids every time they’re out in public.  So, if you’re offended by the Mothehood Challenge for whatever reason, (infertlity, loss, childlessness, or even just because you’re a whiny bint) I’m genuinely sorry you feel that way.  But, please remember that people don’t post pictures of their kids to piss other people off.   IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU.   And from my experience, friends who’ve suffered losses or struggled to have kids can still survive Facebook if they chose to have it, which on a normal day for me is about 40% kid pics anyway.  So, if Facebook gives you rage, then have a good old cull of your friends or just quit.  Stop trying to guilt/embarrass/shame other people into chamnging their behaviour.

And last, but not least….


I fucking hate this.  I read it all the time.  You know how all mums are doing their best for their kids. Are they?  ARE THEY?   No.   No they’re not.  And rightly so.   Nobody does their absolute best at everything all the time, (excpet maybe Dave Grohl, he’s awesome).

I know I don’t do my best all the time.  I know I sometimes give my kids spaghetti hoops on toast for tea when I could’ve made them an organic cottage pie (get me).   I know that some days I should give my kids a bath but I’m knackered and don’t fancy my bathroom being flooded by an overly enthusiatic semi-aquatic toddler and a lanky 3 year old.  I know that sometimes I put Netflix on to distract them while I Get Some Shit Done (return some emails, pay bills, laundry etc, all fun stuff).  Yeah, I could do that Shit later, after they’ve gone to bed, if I was doing my best for them.  But that time is reserved for laying on my sofa shouting at repeats of Grand Designs.

These are all choices I make and I’m fine with them.  I’m a strong believer that you don’t need to do what’s best for your kids all the time, and especially not at the expense of what’s best for you.   Again, you should make your choices and don’t feel the need to explain, justify or excuse them.  Just like with the eternal breastfeeding/bottle feeding argument.  Do what you want and it’s really nobody else’s beeswax.

As with the al fresco PJs situation, there are a lot of parenting practices and approaches that I wouldn’t touch with a barge pole, and in the privacy of my own mind I think people are nuts for chosing to do certain things, but I would never actaully tell them I think they’re nuts (unless it was a very close friend.  I’ve done that a few times, and I’d expect to hear the same back from them).  As I’ve said before, I’m polite.

Social media has given everyone a voice and priovides the distance, anonymity and soapbox for them to shout with it. Filtering out the bullshit and opinion that doesn’t apply to you is a skill worth cultivating.  Not every parenting article, site or blog is the truth, born of facts/research or necesasarily relevant or applicable to you.  Including this one. If someonme elses opinion doesn’t match yours, just scroll on by. No need to tell them they’re wrong.  Everyone is just winging it and muddling through.  If you cosleep you’re not doing it wrong or doing it right.  You’re doing what works for you.  So, pull up you Big Girl Pants, do what you think is right, and have enough belief in yourself to stick to your guns.  Unless you believe the earth is flat or that vaccines cause autism.  You, my friends are Wrong and I’ll take you on any day of the week.



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