SAHM life

SAHM life

Recently I was abused online for not ‘having a job’. So I thought I’d blog about the highs and lows of what it’s really like to be a ‘stay at home mum’ (SAHM).

The good

There are lots of rewarding, good, highs when being a SAHM. You don’t need to worry about booking time off with work. And half terms/summer holidays are sorted.

You are fully in control with what you do during the week. I choose which play groups, which books, toys, etc the kids get to play with. Rex (2 nearly 3) will be joining nursery full time in Sept, but it’s been so nice to watch him grow, learn and generally just become his own, self at home.

I haven’t missed a thing. I see, hear, and watch it all first hand. During nap time, I can get all the random crap I need doing done. I hate routine (for myself), and every single day is different. I feel so blessed to have been able to spend this much time with them. whilst they’re in their early stages. I have been able to breastfeed longer, and I haven’t had to rock up to a job that I don’t like. The bond I have with my kids is brilliant.

There are genuinely so many good points about being a SAHM. So, yeah, you get the idea that I’m happy with it all…But here’s the bad bits…

people judge you. Seriously. So frequently, it’s a joke. Let me tell you something, I used to work 45+ hours a week. Often doing over time, I have worked since the age of 14 and have always been independent. So cut the crap I’m not living some fucking holiday. This is the hardest thing I’ve done. I love it, wouldn’t change it for the world. But my god, it’s no fucking picnic.

Wiping arses, crying in public because your kids can be little twats (at times), and arguing over iPads isn’t easy. Trying not to swear, teaching them their abcs and numbers, colours, involving yourselves amongst other parents who are far older than me, and have zero interest in me because I don’t own a house or drive a 4×4 is difficult – (not all mums are like this just needing to put a sad example for sympathy). Also being a SAHM can be bloody boring at times. Not speaking to another adult for a whole day can make you go ‘coo coo‘ loopy loo.

That, and the fact we are late pretty much everyday for school (8 year old) is hard work. I peg it for 25 mins every morning. With Rex and Dot having a fight in buggy. Hardly a spring in a ‘I don’t have a job my life is so easy’ step. No, I might not be downing a star bucks, whilst frantically typing away at a desk, and (at times missing lunch) to get work done anymore. But it’s still hard work. In fact my Starbucks at home goes cold now. (First world problems people!!)

Every single job in this world has stressful times. No matter what it is you do. You have no right judging SAHMs at any point in your life.

I have learnt so much about, not only myself but other people during these couple of years.

Because I’m not getting an hourly wage I’m not worthy of peoples sympathy. Or I’m not a human being with actual feelings. Apparently.

My shift doesn’t ever stop. It’s a 24/7 job.

This is no competition, all mothers have it rough, but it was much easier for me personally when I was working. Because it was a break from all of the chaos. If I’m unwell, or the kids are unwell, that’s it. Just us between four walls trying not to kill each other.

When my fiancé has the kids for a weekend or however long. He says things such as “thank god I’m back to work tomorrow”. I wish there was some TV show where they show every fucker who’s ever judged a SAHM mum, then becoming one/a parent themselves. It would be hilarious. Imagine the viewing rates?

So the next time one of you fuckers says “get a job” fine I will. I’ll become a hitman and you’ll be my first hit.

That was obvs a joke.




Who knows?

I’m on my period.




Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day isn’t a joyous occasion for everyone…

Mother’s Day is coming up. I’m getting my nails done, my eyelashes permed and we’re going out for lunch. The kids will give me lovely hand made cards and gorgeous cuddles. So why am I so anxious about it?

Not all of us are excited because we no longer speak to our mums. It could be numerous types of reasons. Perhaps they’ve sadly passed away. Or perhaps they are very toxic and you’ve had to let them go. That’s why I no longer speak to mine.

That dreaded question popped up recently. “Mummy why don’t you speak to nanny anymore?” First of all I thought the choice of words ‘speak’ instead of ‘see’ says it all. I used to see my mum maybe once or twice a year. We spoke to each other once a month, when she could be bothered, or if she had something she wanted to talk to me about, regarding her favourite subject (herself).

We have always had a troubled relationship. Lots of toxicity, arguments, psychical and mental abuse. Child services even got involved at one point. My teacher pulled me to one side and asked me what the bruises on my body were, she had noticed them after getting changed at P.E. But she was super manipulative and somehow tricked them into thinking it was all my fault, making it up for attention, wasn’t her etc. Because of this mental abuse, I have hated myself for a very long time. Always put myself down and didn’t have a lot of self worth.

And it’s only been in the last year or so, that I’ve realised this is fucked up behaviour.

In the past I let it go because I felt sorry for her. I am a very forgiving person, and unfortunately people mistake that for weakness or abuse that.

I have told her not to contact me ever again. And I genuinely meant it. Only now, hearing bits and pieces from other people. I now know that Florence was potentially hurt too.

Going to therapy has made me wake up. And I’ve started remembering a lot of things that were cloudy. For years I thought I was making it up? Manipulation is a very dangerous and underrated form of abuse.

I even once wrote a blog post about how great she was? It’s crazy isn’t it?

The reason I am writing this blog post and making it public is because. I know I’m not making it up in my head. And also I think it’s time people knew my truth. I cannot hold this guilt that my children do not have a nanny. And I feel like I need to take control over my feelings for this sad situation.

All I can control is how I treat my children, and how I can protect them from certain situations. Letting this person go from our lives is for the best. And maybe one day they will understand. I’m always going to be honest with my children. About everything, and unfortunately this will be a tough conversation to have, especially for Florence. As she still thinks she’s someone she isn’t.

Last Christmas she bought Florence a present, and not Rex or Dorothy. Because she’s almost given up hope she will ever know them, as they’re younger they don’t know her and have only seen her properly once or twice (not a rational thought) We told Florence it is was from father Xmas. Because, the person it would’ve hurt the most (just the one present for her not for Rex or Dot) would be Florence.

It’s a learning/difficult experience for us all.

But I just want to end this post, with thanking my mother.

Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart for showing me what a poor example of a mother looks like. Because of you, I spoil my children, (not just with gifts) but with time, love and cuddles. I uplift them. I don’t put them down. Thanks to you. I am the best mother I can (try my hardest) to be.

So if someone no longer speaks to their mother, for different reasons. Or in general, thinks they’re a shit mother, be kind. Tell them they are great.

I will be celebrating all the mums who live in my area. They help me out when they can. Take and drop off Flo to school, help with after schools bits, taking her to clubs and have her for play dates when I have lots going on with the other two. You are all brilliant and you know who you are. THANK YOU ❤️




Sometimes I just pretend to listen to what my children are saying, and give them a token “mmmhmm” when they’ve finished talking.

Sometimes I can’t be bothered to do much playing with my kids, and rely on CBeebies to babysit them. Sometimes I snap. Sometimes I give them far too much chocolate. Sometimes I think “this is so boring” whilst being at home with them. Sometimes I get angry at Mitch for complaining about his day at work. My day has to have been way more stressful. I sometimes think.

Sometimes I spend too much time on my phone. When I should be present in the same room as them. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, if I went away for several weeks just by myself. Sometimes I’m so tired I look and feel like a mess. And sometimes I resent my babies for this.

And sometimes…

Sometimes, I read them another 5 books before bed time. After saying “last book you guys!” Sometimes I make them little check off lists, for when we go out and about. To find certain bugs or animals, or even flowers.

Sometimes I’m so busy playing with them, I don’t update or check any social media for a couple of days. I sometimes go weeks without blogging because I’m too busy investing my time on their activities/lives/hobbies.

Sometimes I take them to a toy shop and treat them all, for no reason at all. Sometimes I sit and play on the floor for hours with my phone in the other room. Sometimes I make different crafts with them, such as a pirate telescope or a magic wand.

Sometimes I manage to convince them to eat their fruit and veg. Sometimes we spend all day out and about they’re desperate to get home. Sometimes Rex does so much walking and running he falls asleep on the stairs when we get back. Sometimes I engage in such silly conversations with them, but pretend I find it interesting and funny.

Sometimes I actually remember to bring Florence a snack, when picking her up from school. Sometimes I put a lot of effort into helping her with her homework. Sometimes I let her stay up for an extra 30 minutes for cuddles before bedtime. Sometimes I buy and rent whatever movie she wants to watch for our movie night. Sometimes I spend 30 minutes or so doing her hair in a fancy style for school.

Sometimes I make messy trays, allow them to make a slime bath or make a messy cake with all of our out of date food. Sometimes I spend money I swore I’d keep for myself, on them. Sometimes I spontaneously take them out for waffles and ice cream. Sometimes I make them laugh so much they cry. Sometimes my back aches from crouching down, whilst playing hide and seek all afternoon.

Sometimes I always will and do love my babies with all of my heart. I’d die for them.

But you can’t be a top parent 24/7.

It’s not real.

Give yourselves a break. And give empathy to those who make out they have it all together, all of the time. Because they’re suffering the most. Trust me.



Let’s get hairy

Year 8, P.E changing rooms. There’s always one twat face in there that likes to mock another, (because of course they’re extremely insecure with themselves, that they then feel the need to make another person feel like shite too) but we’re not wise enough to clock onto that just yet! “Eew why don’t you shave your legs? That’s gross” “OH FUCK OFF YOU BASIC BITCH”. Nope, Unfortunately that’s not what I said. but I should’ve said it.

Back then, like most young girls, I had fine blonde hairs all down my legs. Because you know, that’s how I was born. No really. That’s literally it. We are born this way. So why do we have such an issue with body hair? When I say ‘we’ I mean women. Unless, you’re a man who has a hairy back and feels the need to get it waxed, due to peer pressure, then this ones for you too pal!

Tell ’em from me to ‘piss off

Now, because we’ve all shaved (off our leg hair). They’re thicker and darker. More noticeable and, you’re now more likely to keep on shaving and shaving. Or waxing. But, boy, what a ball ache.

I went six months without wearing any makeup. Yes I know. Crazy. If you know me well enough, you’ll know I’ve always caked on my makeup. I love it. That’s how I like it. But when I was pregnant with Dorothy, I don’t know why, I just couldn’t be bothered. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. And before you know it, six months went by. My skin was glowing. And I learnt to appreciate my face. My insecurities about my face, have now gone. But anyway that’s another blog post for another day!

So, it brings me onto the main bit of this post. I’m not going to shave my legs for six months. When I thought about this, I thought ‘shit, is Mitch going to find me attractive still?’ But at the end of the day, I need to shove my money in my mouth. I can’t preach about this shit, without living it’s/my truth. And I want to feel more secure about body hair. On my own body! (If you don’t want to shave your body hair then that’s cool too) it’s all about choice.

Science is a wonderful thing. Leg hair has its purpose, just like, everything else on and in our bodies. Every week, or even day, for some! We are getting rid of what our bodies actually need. Isn’t that just bloody weird? All for what? Capitalism? Men? Or even women? Because it’s simply the done thing. Well, my motto in life is “just because everyone’s doing it, doesn’t make it ok” and I feel like shaving is one of those things.

I want my daughters to have a healthier body image than what I was conditioned to believe and think. I want to unravel these thoughts. In front of them. Actions speak louder than words. So here goes! Six months.

Yours truly,

All the best.

Hairy Mary x

Twinning isn’t winning

Once upon a time, when I was a small child…

my mother would push, push, and push myself and Tori to play together. This was fine, for a long period of time. But eventually I got to the age of 11/13 where I started finding this bloody irritating. I wanted to have my own group of friends, and I wanted to be my own person. Myself and my two other sisters are very close in age. At times, it has felt that we are in fact triplets.

Again, at times this has been cute, others not so much. I fully believe all children should feel, like their ‘own’ person.

And whether we like it or not. The material items on our backs do add to this. Whether we try to or not, everything we wear does show us what kind of person we are. Even if you hate clothing, fashion etc, it does give us an insight to who you are. And I fully believe style doesn’t have a price tag. No matter who you are, no matter how rich or poor your personality does in-fact shine through.

And yes. I over think into everything. I’m a Sagittarius. Deal with it. I like to find out and pick at everything to see and understand, how it works. And I’ve had a ‘Eureka’ moment this morning. I’ve finally figured out why I hate ‘twinning’ so much.

For those of you who do not know what ‘twinning’ means. It’s simply to dress either yourself and your child the same. Or your children the same. Or it could be your dog, horse, cat. If you’re into being a saddo. Lol joke. Not joking.

Spencer’s Ex girlfriend used to dress Florence and her daughter in the same clothing. This made me want to throw up in my mouth, a hundred times until my eyeballs fell out. Sorry I find it so unbelievably tacky. Florence over time started turning into her daughter. The scraped back neat buns in her hair (again throwing up) it was just not her, or our thing.

I would never put my children into the same outfit. Because I believe, they should be unique. Florence chooses her own clothing and what she does with her hair, because I feel like she has the right to choose. Same with Rex and Dot. Lol they’re babies. You might be thinking? But trust me. They choose. And if they wanted to wear the same thing then I would let them. But I would never force them to do so.

Well what about if you had actual twins? This for me. Would even be, a bigger NO. Twins already feel this (at times) nuisance of feeling like the same person. I personally find it even more unfair to put them in the same outfit.

Let your children shine through, to be their own, individual person. Everything they read, wear, play with, who they play with, what music they listen to, all adds up to shape them, into the person they are, or who they want to be. This is why I’m very overly aware, with what my children wear. I’m not going to place Dot into a princess themed top stating ‘beauty sleep’ is the most important thing in life. Fuck that. I want her to go climb a tree and pretend she is a pirate and tell all the boys who’s boss.

I’m just not into forcing anything on my kids. And let’s be honest. Most children can’t stand being lumped into the same clothing. So maybe respect that? If your kids love it, then that’s also cool. It’s all about learning their boundaries. They will someday have to grow up and make their own choices, and understand how to do that. And have the confidence in doing that. So allow them. Small choices here and there. I believe it’ll make a huge difference

Thank you for listening to my TED talk