Is Elf On The Shelf making you feel like a crap mother?

Apparently, according to the world of social media, the answer for some is yes. But I’m gonna call bullshit on this one and say it’s likely not the elf but the comparison to other mums that’s making you feel inadequate.

Let me explain…. As someone who uses Instagram to share family life, and who chooses to celebrate and share both successes and failures, I am very aware of how seeing things online can impact your mental health.

There are a whole host of topics that could or should be banned from social media. Topics that in my opinion elicit trauma, and if it was up to me I would choose not to read or see the things that trigger me.

Oh wait, for the most part is IS up to me.

I am able to mute, unfollow, ask not to see this again, in order to clean up my news feed.

Hence why I find it just a little bit unnecessary when someone has a rant about how Elf on the Shelf is making mothers (them) feel inadequate.

People who have tidy houses, are hugely successful and look like supermodels make me feel inadequate, but it would take me one hundred years, most likely bitter years, to successfully call out all of these people on their pretentiousness, but why would I want to?

Don’t get me wrong, as a disabled mother on a low income, I know what it’s like to be hard up. I’ve experienced trauma and I know what it’s like to struggle with your mental health. We all have triggers. All of us. But we also need to take stock and stop blaming others for triggering us.

The mum posting her child’s toy elf prancing around on a plastic dinosaur is not doing so to make you feel inadequate.

Realistically, she is probably doing it to make herself feel better, a silent high five to having remembered that Fergus-Frosty-Pants the elf needed to move his matchstick body, to another part of the house after her kids were tucked up in bed.

Similarly, the mum who takes pride in her home and posts pictures of it, is not doing so to make you feel inadequate. She’s sharing something she’s proud of.

I’m not a big fan of sharing hauls, or how many presents my kids get, mainly because I’ve always been brought up not to place too much value on material things, but you know what? If I could afford to do all the things with my kids that I’d like, if I could afford to shower them with gifts that fill rooms, I probably would. Of course we need to educate our children not to place value on how much they receive, I had a conversation just yesterday with my daughter about being grateful for all that she has as opposed to being sad about the things she doesn’t. It started when she sulked walking back from the shop because they didn’t have the Christmas tree biscuits we usually buy to decorate this time of year. We had a good chat about all the lovely things we’ve done and the crafts we’ve made in the run up to Christmas and that sulking about not being able to decorate some chewy gingerbread, kind of pales into insignificance if we compare. We talked about how there will inevitably always be things we want that we can’t have. Things others have that may make us jealous or resentful, but this is part of life. It’s literally something we all, even us as adults (clearly) will experience often. Comparison is the thief of joy and if we focus on what everyone else is doing and allow it to make us feel shit about ourselves, we lose sight of all the great things we have and if I’ve learned anything in the last year (and I like to think I’ve learned a whole lot) it’s that gratitude is not only a healthier way to eradicate the feelings of inadequacy that comes with comparison, it also helps us to feel better about what we have.

I see posts all the time saying ‘it’s ok if you don’t have XYZ this Christmas’ and of course it is, but I’m nonplussed as to when anybody suggested it wasn’t.

I myself am guilty of previously following trends, especially with the kids. Always wanting to make sure my daughter has a birthday party as great those of her peers. Don’t forget the photo ops, balloon arches and all that. However, I’ve learned that actually she’s happy if there is food and dancing, and she doesn’t really give a shit if she has 100 balloons positioned into a giant rainbow at five years old. I’ll add as well that all of these things are available in DIY and don’t cost the earth if you’re prepared to graft yourself.

We’re all human, trying our best, wanting the best for our kids, and it’s hard enough to avoid the never ending guilt that is placed on us as mothers, without turning on each other for moving around a felt elf, two weeks a year.

Just do you. XOXO

Love For Lockdown

People keep saying things to me like ‘can’t wait to go out when is over’ as if it’s expected that we are all super excited about socialising again. We must surely all be desperate to get to that overcrowded bar with friends we’ve been avoiding for ages?

No, I’m kidding – normalcy is an exciting prospect, but it seems we’re all presumed chomping at the bit to get back out and paint the town red, and the truth is, I’m not.

Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to get my freedom back, buy what I want in shops of my choosing, and get my lashes done, but socially I feel quite content in my little family bubble, for now at least.

Just my husband, daughter and I, plodding through the everlasting days with nothing to rush for. Working to an untimely schedule. The only million dollar question being, what’s for tea?! Mealtimes providing fattening structure to our days.

That’s not to say I don’t like people, or want to see my friends and family, I do desperately. But… and there is a but. Before lockdown, I always got an overriding sense of FOMO. I’ve mentioned before how living with a chronic illness and not being able to do all the things I could do pre diagnosis, can sometimes leave me feeling left out of social events. It’s probably true that it’s a lot to do with me, and less to do with the organisers of said events, but…. lockdown, isolation, quarantine, whatever you want to call it, has actually massively reduced my fear of missing out.

I mean obviously, because we’re all missing out now aren’t we? Or are we?

What’s your perspective?

Let’s skip to the facts, coronavirus is a killer, it imposed on our world as we knew it a few months ago, and it’s definitely nothing to be THANKFUL for. However it is making me appreciate life’s simple pleasures.

It’s making me feel less of a let down about not being socially available. I don’t have the constant conflict of having too much in my diary, or not enough, subsequently playing havoc with my insecurities. It’s awakened me to getting the best use of my time too. I even wrote a schedule last week and felt suitably joyous when ticking it off. A lot of people love a Mrs Hinch style list, and I’m usually not one of them. I’m the people admiring said list slayers from the sidelines whilst winging it and getting much of nothing done. Ticking off the days activities this past week has given me a sense of achievement, one that I don’t get from the daily grind of the 9-5. I think it’s fair to say that I’m coping ok. It’s not easy for any of us, and I won’t pretend being imprisoned in your two up two down semi is a holiday, but we’re making the best of it. My daughter just turned four and she was due to have a party and we were off on a caravan holiday.

When cancelling these I cried for days, I didn’t know how to explain it to her. After a week at home I asked her again what she would like to do for her birthday and she said……Feed the ducks please mummy, we have a local moat at the back of our house and so feeding the ducks is what we did. Along with hunkering down in the Lay-Z Spa for most of the day. Which may I add was a lockdown online impulse buy.

My heart swelled with pride at this almost four year old’s ability to adapt to getting pleasure from the simplest of activities.

It’s my own birthday this week too and I feel uncharacteristically calm about not having any plans. It’s no secret I am a diva and usually I pack in more than I’m up to achieving at this time of year, then get pretty upset when I crash and burn. Lockdown is providing me a safe haven with my family and I don’t have to feel sadness over people not coming out for another birthday booze, or disappointment that I didn’t lose the weight I wanted to for intended booze up, because I’m not having one.

I know this probably sounds ridiculous, maybe even a little sad, but I feel quite the opposite about it. I would love to see my family on my birthday, but I’m also glad I’ll be spending it with my very nearest and dearest, and I didn’t have to consider any other kind of strenuous activity.

I know in the long term, this new found comfort will fizzle and I will be back to climbing the walls – but for now I’m just rolling with it. Whilst keeping me and mine safe.

My only concern left for lockdown apart from the obvious and outright depressing (keeping our jobs/ home schooling etc) is how many snacks my kid is eating. The child is likely to ‘I want a snack’ us to our deaths if she’s not careful. I’ve tried and failed explaining to her we aren’t allowed to panic buy KitKats!

Article also available to read here https://www.house21.co.uk/news-opinions/love-for-lockdown/

10 things I’ve come to accept after having kids.

1. Being ignored – yep, you can kiss goodbye the idea of a toddler listening intently to anything you have to say. Their cute little elfin ears are only there for decorative purposes!
2. I’m a shit cook. – I must be because I can’t fathom another reason why my kid prefers Birdseye fish fingers instead of my lovingly prepared, home cooked food. 
3. My body will never be the same. – the piles are here to stay by the looks of it. But it’s ok, it’s brought my fiancé and I closer, him, closer to my asshole when I need him to help apply ointment.
4. Nobody else really matters. – You still care about all of your friends and family, but random opinions are better shrugged off when you have kids to care for. Oh you don’t like me? Not got a second of free time to care hun. And even when I do care, I’m better at moving on.
5. I am going to be skint forever. – Me: gets a bonus, I know….. I’ll buy my child another months worth of plastic shit, instead of buying those Dr Marten sandals I so desperately desire, or using it for something important like paying the TV License (Disclaimer I do pay my TV License, BBC!)
6. Punctuality- It is no longer my ‘strong point.’ For years I used to give this as a strength in interviews, you’d be surprised how well it worked. Not anymore Sunshine, have you ever tried getting clothes on a moving three year old whilst they’re in the middle of an episode of PJ Masks?
7. Quiet sex- gone are the days I’d try and imitate a Cathy Barry squeal. Now I have to lie there pretending I believe in Scientology because if you make me wake the kids up, I’m gonna cut a bitch.
8. I can’t be bothered – That’s right, I don’t have a good excuse for everything anymore. I’m so tired I just can’t be bothered. Wanna come over? Sounds great, What shall we do? Erm… you watch the kids and I’ll sleep how does that sound?
9. Date nights aren’t the same – Don’t get me wrong they’re still great and necessary, but they’re no longer spontaneous, they don’t hold the kinkiness they once held. You get ready whilst trying to put your kid to sleep or get them over to the babysitter and just before you’re about to leave, you eye the other one skeptically, almost telepathically asking them if they’d prefer to go to sleep, because, you know, you wouldn’t be offended if they said they would.10. Life is short – clichè but so true. The years whizz by faster than you can catch your breath when you have kids. They age overnight, as do you. Life is a collection of memories, and with this knowledge I try and create better ones everyday. Don’t waste a second worrying about the things you can’t change. Do the things that make you smile. Don’t hold on to anything that makes you miserable. If like me you struggle to let go, talk to someone. Never regret anything that helped shape you. You are special because of what you’ve been through.

Parenting with booze

Friday is coming around quick smart and we’re off to Beni with the diva, on her first abroad holiday. I’m already dreading the plane journey, I know a potty accident or a tantrum is bound to occur.

But whilst I moan and await my child’s drama to unfold, I got thinking about the ‘booze Britain’ culture and whether or not I’ll indulge in a cocktail or several poolside.

I have a bit of a hang up about drinking booze around Ciara. I promise you this is a non judgemental post so if that’s your thing I am definitely not judging, but I remember how I perceived drunk people as a kid and I didn’t like it, so for me I tend to avoid booze when she’s in our presence. Let’s be clear here that Ciara is only three, she isn’t quite self sufficient yet and therefore it’s always in my mind she may wake up in the night and I’d be too pissed to hear her, or too comatose to get up and change her bed after an accident.

That said, I know plenty of people, friends and family who do like a drink or two with their kids and they are still great parents.

I just don’t personally feel I’m at my best when I’ve had a few jars, and if you know drunk Steph you’ll probably understand why. My language is atrocious!

The honest truth of it is: I don’t like the restricted feeling I get with booze when Ciara’s with us. It’s a high alert feeling and I tend not to be able to relax fully.

Some people use alcohol to relax but I use it to get in the mood to party.

To me 1 or 2 beers is as interesting as a cup of tea.

It’s gotta be 5 or 6 or I’ll give it a miss.

I’m aware this makes me what people like to call a ‘binge drinker’ but it seems to be where my relationship with alcohol is at.

I avoid it at all times accept in social situations and then I have a no restriction approach. I say no restrictions loosely, it still means I need to be responsible enough to know my own limits, sometimes that’s the case, sometimes not so much. When I do overdo it. I pay for it. Not just with a headache but mentally too and I can become anxious and depressed. Therefore even with the occasional binge, I do try to know my limits.

I know all the info about binge drinking and it’s dangers and implications, but I still choose to be able to have a bigger booze once in a while, over a few drinks often.

That’s not to say I won’t have a couple on holiday, maybe I will, it’ll ultimately depend on my ability to relax. What I do know is I won’t be getting steaming like I am in the below picture – main reason is: The hangover is sure to make me feel like the worst mother in the world.

I love nothing more than knowing Ciara is well looked after at Nanny’s when I’ve got a bad head from too much booze. That way, I know she’s safe and I don’t feel guilty for being too lazy to do anything with her. Just as I wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving her to go to the spa or for afternoon tea. I know grandparents and babysitters are a luxury some people aren’t afforded, and I’ve been lucky that when I do need a night out Mum is on hand to save me from mum guilt the next day!

Bottom line is, happy kids usually means happy parents and vice versa, so I think if you know your own limits and your kids are well looked after, it’s ultimately up to you what they’re exposed to, or not.

I can still relate to the mum’s who post pics of their wine at the end of a long day as easily as I can, the ones who post about drinking a hot cuppa, and even the ones who get wrecked on a night out, because I’m a mum and we all have vices to get us through the tough days.

I know not everyone will agree with occasional blow out culture, and that’s fine, because as mum’s we all have our own way of doing things, we all parent differently and each of our children will be different in different scenarios.

Maybe if Ciara didn’t wake in the night I might feel more able to relax, or maybe when she’s older I’ll indulge a bit more in her presence, but for now my relationship with booze is more like an occasional booty call you can enjoy every so often, as opposed to a marriage.

Mum guilt and chocolate teapots

Mum guilt, if you’re a mum, you’ve had mum guilt at some point. You may even have it regularly – let’s be real about this, it’s a thing that has blown up in recent years because we (I, in any case) spend far too much time comparing ourselves to other mum’s on social media, at the school gates, during a PTA, at soft play or on someone’s follow Friday post.

A friend of mine called me earlier this week to say she’d been called into school about her child’s behaviour. They were acting out and she felt tremendously guilty. She felt like she’d failed as a mother. Let me be clear here, she is a bloody fantastic mother, but seriously, she tore herself a new one over this. I went away and thought about the times I’ve been criticised or not even criticised as such, but spoken to about Ciara’s tantrums and or her lack of sharing and I’ve felt like the worst person on the planet. I’ve gone on social media to make myself feel better and been faced with everyone gushing about their perfect kids or at least that’s what I’ve taken from it and ended up feeling worse. I’ve been penalised for being ‘real’ for admitting when my child acts like a knob. People have said ‘no wonder if you call your child a knob, they’ll act like one.’ FYI I don’t sit there calling my three year old a knob to her face, but sometimes people, she acts like a spawn of Satan, so she gets the finger when she’s not looking, and sometimes….. she’s cute and shit. If you complain about your child’s behaviour or chastise them, you are branded an awful mother, and if you don’t, you are still an awful mother as you must not even notice or worse, don’t care!

It’s funny because when I thought about this in more depth I thought about our mothers and grandmothers. There weren’t parenting books and baby led weaning, or the Ferber Method. There also weren’t tens of thousands of mums on social media talking about being one. (I’m aware I’m that person too) What I’m getting at is, they had nothing to compare it to accept real life experiences from friends and family. There was hardly even any reality TV when I was a kid. None of this teen mum stuff or one born every minute (which I love by the way) but we all sit there and have a little ‘ooh I wouldn’t of done it like that’ moment when watching. Don’t get me wrong, there are just as many mums taking a stand against mum shaming on social media as there are ‘perfect’ parents, but where does this end.

If your kid acts up these days it’s because they have something wrong with them, or there’s something wrong with you, or you’re neglecting them, smothering them, missing something, and so on!

This is a time when if you kiss your child on the lips and photograph it, you’re branded a paedophile. Has the world gone absolutely bat shit?

My mum always gave me a big smacker before bed, she wasn’t/isn’t a paedophile. The only difference is, back then she didn’t photograph it and post it on social media. We seldom take pictures of our babies cute little bums or let them waltz around starkers because let’s face it, there are some sick people in the world and we’re quite rightly protecting our kids, I wouldn’t ever condone anything that put them at risk, but come the fuck on people, can you not give your child a kiss or a cuddle in public anymore? Loving your child and showing affection in a positive way does not make you a monster.

My daughter doesn’t eat any veg, or fruit, accept in the form of juice. We have tried EVERYTHING! Her eating has gotten worse the older she’s got and it’s a real fight in our house some nights to get her to eat pizza and chips, let alone home made vegetable ragu. I can assure you, it’s not for lack of effort on our part as parents, whether you believe my assurances is another matter.

When Ciara’s tired and in an ‘I want Daddy only’ mood – I wonder to myself if this is because I’m a terrible mother. Does she hate me? What am I doing wrong?

When she forgets to use her ‘kind hands’ at preschool I wonder why it’s my child that plays up, what did I do?

I know I’ll go away after this post feeling liberated for all of five minutes for the rant I’ve allowed myself, and then I’ll get back to wondering why I can’t do better or be better. Why nobody looks at me as an idol, why I’m not up on a pedestal of perfect parenting.

BUT when I look at my daughter each day and see her happy and healthy little face, when she randomly comes and plants a kiss on my cheek or puts her little hand in mine, I’m going to try and see myself from her perspective. I’m going to try and love myself a little more how she loves me, and I’m going to give myself a pat on the back for every day we finish a meal, every time I refrain from referring to her as a little knob, and every time she’s kind. Fuck it I may even get myself a reward chart because I am a good mum. Deep down I know this because my perfect girl is so loved, and guilt, guilt is an emotion I render as useless as a chocolate teapot.

Snoring is ruining my life

It’s 2am and the drilling has started. You wake with a start and want to wake your fiancé up to tell him he’s going to have to go next door and talk to them about the noise! And that’s when you realise, it’s not the neighbours drilling again at all, it’s coming from him, he’s snoring.

So you punch him in the shoulder, probably harder than intended but you know, snoring! He then wakes with a start of his own, moans and rolls over. For all of 30 seconds it’s quiet again. 30 seconds isn’t very long. Repeat above steps until you can cope no more, so you go downstairs and join the cat on the sofa instead.

What am I complaining about? For the love of God woman, everyone snores sometimes! Yes, that’s true, but this isn’t sometimes, darling, this is Every. Single. Night!

For us, snoring has come close a number of times, to destroying our relationship. I have a chronic illness and sleep is crucial for my body to repair nightly and reduce symptoms. I cant function on less than 8 hours. Minimum. Gone are the days I can stay out until 4am and get up at 9. No, I NEED sleep. I have a child, I can’t afford to be faced with the daily fatigue that follows around Fibromyalgia sufferers after a sleepless night.

So what can I do about it you ask? Well, I do a lot of punching, and a lot of sofa sleeping. We don’t have the luxury of a third bedroom in our house, so fortunately or unfortunately, we don’t have the option not to share a room. I know, that sounds an extremity, but I know a lot of couples that have their own bedrooms based on the fact that one of them incessantly snores. In my Fiancé’s defence, he’s been to see his GP about our little but loud problem. More than once, and do you know their advice? To go on a website and read the tips. Like we haven’t read every fucking tip there is to read about snoring, online already!! Sure, thanks Doc, why didn’t I think of that? He’s already tried, nasal strips, throat spray, throat foam, even a fucking chin strap to keep his mouth closed, didn’t work. The only thing that sometimes allows me sleep is if I go to bed an hour before him and get to sleep before him, so that when he starts, I’m already asleep. Sometimes it works and sometimes he STILL wakes me up. Not to mention the fact going to bed an hour before him makes our sex life impractical and irregular, but also you lose a closeness between you. You lose the cuddle that comes before you roll over to sleep. You lose the leg over that cocoons you during the night, and although annoying makes you feel safe.

It sounds like a real first world problem, and is I guess, but it’s one that really does test our relationship. I wake up some days so resentful that his snoring has kept me from the sleep my body so desperately demands that I don’t want to talk to him. Other days he wakes up resentful that I’ve banished him to the sofa for something that’s not his fault. Out of his control. To be honest I can still hear him from the sofa, but it’s a welcome dulled down version when he’s not sharing a bed with me. I don’t know what the answer is, maybe surgery? But sleep therapy isn’t well funded by the nhs and it’s another expense we can’t afford to invest in at the moment. What’s the cost to our relationship if we don’t though? I know it’s not his fault but it makes no odds to the despair I feel nightly. Buy a bigger house? Wear ear plugs? (Tried them, can’t hear toddler in the night then though) put a pillow over his face? Maybe! The irony is apparently that I also snore pretty loudly, but I don’t keep him awake so if we’re competing then he’s still in the lead for the loudest and most annoying!

It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live with, but I also don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without him. So here I am preparing for another shit nights sleep, and getting the pre bedtime cuddle in, just in case I have to abort the master bedroom before sleep hits, again!