Stupid sh*t I said before I had a kid. 

We all say things we don’t mean, sometimes we don’t even know we don’t mean them till after the fact, so for today’s little peek into my world, here’s a little list of some of the stupid shit I used to say before I had a kid!

Are you someone with no children? Do you think your tired because you worked this week? And because on your day off you had to do something adult like laundry or food Shopping? And you sit down at the end of that day and think to yourself “God, I’m shattered now” 


You’re not tired. You’re not even close to tired. You’re merely a little low on energy, but you’re not exhausted.

Exhausted is when you have a tiny human following you round like they are your shadow for 12 hours a day. Tired is when you haven’t slept more than 4 hours a night since before you became the size of a 2 bed house about a year ago. Knackered is when you don’t remember the last time you didn’t feel like you needed to nap 5 minutes after waking up in the morning.

Word of advice: If you don’t have kids, don’t EVER say you’re tired in front of someone who does. And if you do, and they bitch slap you, you deserved it.

Let’s start this point with this: Hahahahahahahahah. 

Okay, so you think you’re busy between work, socialising, Instagram story-ing, and drinking? Try doing everything ever with a 19 pound dead weight attached to either your hip or leg. Like 4 loads of washing in a day. 3 loads of dishes. Emptying the rubbish twice. Showering yourself. Bathing the baby (granted at this point baby is not attached to legs or hips but still requiring 100% of your attention) Going grocery shopping. Cleaning the fridge. Putting that shopping away. Trying to drink a cup of tea that’s actually hot (yeah right!) Making dinner for baby. Making dinner for yourself. Put washing on line and in tumble dryer.  Still trying to drink hot cuppa. Putting washing back in tumble dryer because baby pulled it out again. Putting dry clothes in wardrobes. Repairing a fallen curtain pole. Changing ALL the bedding in the house. Bathing baby AGAIN and showering yourself again. Then putting baby to sleep.

And only then, can you cook dinner for yourself again, because it went cold the first time, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to scoff it down in 4.5 minutes before the nasty neighbours next door wake the baby up because it’s like the Caribbean outside so all the windows are open and they are loud chavvy nutcases.

3 words. Statutory fucking maternity pay. 

Sorry that’s 4 words. But whatevs. The swearing is needed. It’s shit. I paid my damned taxes. Alot of them too. But statutory maternity pay is crap. I know I know, I should be grateful I get anything, some people get nothing, i know. I am grateful. I’m grateful I get enough to pay my rent, that doesn’t mean I can’t say look, if you (the government) are only paying me half my wages, why can’t my employer pay the other half, y’know. Like, I just birthed a damn human being, kick a girl while she’s lying on her bed on a donut pillow why don’t you!

Why can’t they be like “hey, you just gave birth, and as you’re gonna be home all the time now and you also are going to feed a tiny human with your boobs so your food shopping bill is going to double because you eat like a starving racehorse now! Or your going to feed that tiny human with formula which is EXTORTIONATE! So here, have some more money, you’re gonna need it.”

Plus, every time you do leave the house now, you will always see something your kid might like or need or want so you buy it because you forget you have no fucking money anymore!

Don’t talk shit to me about having no money when you “spent your last 20 quid on cocktails cause oh em gee there was the cutest bartender” I will cut you.

Try being responsible for another person, that can’t do anything, except rely on you to be responsible for them, for everything. 

You have to give up everything so they eat, sleep, poop, smile, talk when they’re supposed to, and when they need to, because they’re small and helpless and perfect and it doesn’t matter what time of the night it is, if they need to eat, you ain’t goin’ to sleep.

Aannnndd, you really have to make sure you pay your bills and stuff cause now the roof is over the tiny human’s head too. No more frivolous anything! (Unless it’s that really cute little book with the pop up things in it that will really make the kid laugh like crazy and it’s costs a small fortune but who cares cause the 3 second smile you’ll get before they eat the book is worth £24.99!)

Again: Hahahahaha. 

I’m sure eventually there may be some days that I might be within 5 minutes of the time I said I’d meet you. But in reality, expect a half hour window either side of that time. Because the likelihood is, that the child will be dressed and ready to go and then he will decide to do the world’s largest poop, which will spread out of the nappy, down both legs and up to his armpits because fuck you mum, we’re not being on time for anything. So then he has to go back in the bath and get dressed all over again, and then so do I because I’m soaked and smell like poop.

Now I can’t say for certain on this point, cause I’m not actually back at work just yet, but I am dreading it, so I’m pretty certain I’m not going to be fine going back to work. It’s the dark cloud looming on my horizon. All I want to do is hide behind my baby. I keep telling him to stop growing because he’s a little toddling boy now, and the longer he stays a baby, the longer I get to spend with him. He pushes me away when I try to kiss his cheeks instead of lying there like a little cute sack of potatoes just letting me kiss him for-like-ever. Because kids are SO my thing now and he’s amazing and I’m going to miss him so much that oh god I think my heart might burst.

And frankly, right now, my career can get fucked. For a lot of reasons. Mainly baby. Maybe I’ll feel different once im actually back in the swing of it, but I doubt it. Me = Baby Mama now and I’m cool with it, I never much liked my career anyway, I was just really good at it.
There’s probably a lot more to this list. What stupid shit did you say before tiny human’s entered your life? Do you look back now and think “Ha! What a twat!” Like I do?

Let me know in the comments, or come follow me on Twitter @Babybird_Mum


Why I chose to Breastfeed. 

As part of National Breastfeeding Week, I feel like it’s an appropriate time to write my first post about breastfeeding.
In my post “6 things I wish I had been told about childbirth” I touched on how i found breastfeeding within the first few days of my son’s life, but here I’ll go into more detail about all aspects of the subject (That I can remember anyway)
Let’s start off with why I chose to breastfeed. Money. Money is probably the biggest reason I chose to breastfeed. Formula is darned expensive!! I remember my midwife asking me what I wanted to attempt to do once my baby had been born, and my answer was almost instant. I was determined to try breastfeeding because it would save us a crap load of  money every month, and when your wages get cut in more than half by statutory maternity pay, you gotta figure a way to save somewhere.
Now I know the outcome could have been difficult if R hadn’t been such a champ from the start. He latched on within 30 minutes of being born. The sonographer for my final scan did say he would probably be a “Good eater” because he had most of his hand in his mouth for the scan! But even the midwives were surprised by how well he went for it. 

We went for skin to skin as soon as he was out, which I believe does help the baby start rooting. The midwives checked me over and left the room for about 20 mins to let us all get acquainted, and when they came back he was already latched on perfectly, and fed for 35 minutes. It’s safe to say that I was definitely relieved when he latched so well and knew we weren’t going to need to buy formula. 

One thing that can drastically change a BFing relationship is the pain. I remember feeling like I couldn’t go on. I remember feeling like someone had taken a lighter to my nipples. I remember crying every time he latched. I remember clogged ducts, and trying to remove them. The back pain, the nipple pain, the let-down pain. 

There were a lot of times I questioned how natural this actually is! No wonder someone invented formula! What a brill idea! Many women simply can’t take the pain, many women get the pain much worse than I had it. But I did almost quit. 

I went through 3 weeks of constant clogged ducts in the same place. It would take 2 days to remove it through constant feeding and then hand expression, combined with hot compresses. And it ached all the time. I couldn’t sleep because if I so much as touched the area it would make me yelp. And I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to stop, but a few people encouraged me to keep going and I did, and I’m so grateful to them for making me stick at it!
The nipple pain for the first few weeks was a real doozy. I went through tubes of Lanolin, huge globs of it before and after feeds. I couldn’t shower without a bra on, because the water was too painful. I couldn’t take my bra off because fresh air was too painful!

Lanolin was my best friend, and honestly, more than anything else, or anyone else, Lanolin is the only reason I got through any of it. I don’t know what it is, I don’t care. It’s gotta be made from the tears of angels or something cause it’s just that good!
The pain is a big thing, and like I said, it’s why a lot of women don’t continue. My own mother and step mother included in that! But I feel like I also need to say, it doesn’t last forever!

Yes there are days when my boobs feel heavy and achy. Yes there are days when my nipples feel raw. And my let-down does still take my breath away most of the time, but for the most part, it’s not painful at all anymore. I barely notice it. I sleep with him feeding. I eat with him feeding. Whatever’s necessary. So please don’t be put off by my in depth moment about pain!
Baby blues. Let’s talk about the damned baby blues. Again, I am lucky, I know this.

You get warned about it, your partner, your mum, your friends. Whoever your midwife comes into contact with, they talk about the baby blues. (For good reason)

Day 3, it’s the day they say your hormones take a nose dive. It’s the day your milk is supposed to come in. When you wake up in the morning absolutely sopping wet and with boobs the size of Mount Everest. It’s a fun day. (NOT!!) The hormones. There’s a shift in the balance. They call it the Baby Blues, because you spend the day being a sopping wet mess of a human being. 

I cried at everything that day. Waking up soaked with milk, cry. Enormous boobs (something I’d been wishing for since age 15), cry. Forget to actually put the kettle on, cry. Yep, that was my day. It finished with me sat on the floor of our bedroom, swaddled, happy, full baby in the crib, but me, sat on the floor crying because I thought i was a was a cow. Like on a dairy farm kinda cow. Hook me up to one of those machines they stick on their udders and feed me some grass. 

Eventually my other half managed to convince me that it was just the hormones. And bless him for trying, cause it took a while, I was adamant I was not hormonal and that he was a jackass for suggesting so (As is the standard response when a man tells you that you’re just hormonal) Until he reminded me how old our son was that day.
All joking aside, I had it easy. Day three is a doozy. But it’s the point of where baby blues can very quickly turn into postnatal depression, and that’s no laughing matter.

Regardless of whether you choose to breastfeed or not, this day still exists and needs to be closely monitored by anyone around you.
My last point here as I am now verging on writing a book rather than blog post,  fuck what anyone judges you for. 

If you want to breastfeed, great, do it. If you don’t, then don’t. If you want to feed your baby for just 6 months, fine. If you want to feed them for 5 years, then fine too. If you want to feed your kid in a coffee shop, with no cover then go for it. If you prefer to find a quiet place or use a cover, then that’s cool too.
I found the judgement came from all sides. It came from people who don’t know me, judging me for feeding my child in public, whether i had a cover or not. I actually walked out of one chain cafe because i felt so intimidated by the management that I even had a baby with me! I hadn’t even begun to feed my son.

I also got judgement from family, telling me that he’s too attached to me, telling me that I should have some formula so that they can feed him, telling me that he wasn’t gaining enough weight on my milk, telling me that he should be on solid foods from 3 months so other people could take him for whole days and nights. And this was all without any regard for what I wanted to do, or how my son was doing with breastfeeding, no one cared about that, what they cared about was their own agenda.
There’s too much judgement when it comes to feeding a child. Society needs to remember that boobs were actually made for babies to drink from, not to be dressed up as pretty little ornaments for men to oogle at, and that a mothers decision on how to feed her child is hers, and though advice is always welcome, pushy opinions and outright rudeness is not. This goes for both sides of the coin, breastfeeding and formula feeding.
I am not against formula, I was formula fed myself as a baby. There seems to be a big stigma surrounding BFing mum’s that we hate formula, but I stick my flag in the sand on the side of Fed Is Best. It doesn’t matter if you choose it, or if it chooses you, your child is not hungry and that is the only thing that matters.
National Breastfeeding Week is running from the 26th June 2017 and is run by UNICEF. Their website has plenty of links for support, shared stories and articles about the benefits of breastfeeding.


The Breastfeeding Network

La Leche League 

Share your breastfeeding story here with me, or on your own platform and link it in the comments below! I’d love to read them! And don’t forget to tag them on social media with #BFfriend17


How we made Weaning work for us.

Weaning is a huge subject for discussion within the mummy blogging community. With millions of articles, infographics and books available to every new mother, it’s easy to get confused by what is really best to do. 

Some say the way to go is spoonfed purees. Making it easy to allow your child to taste and eat, without having to worry about too much mess or choking hazards, many tend to go this route. 

Others will say Baby Led weaning is the best and more modern way to go. Allowing your child to practice chewing, removing the need for a parent to sit and feed a child and allowing the child to dictate when they are done. 

For us, a mixture of the two was much more appropriate. 

At 10 months old, R is now usually on 3 meals a day, with snacks and breastmilk in between, but we have been breastfeeding on demand since birth, so some days he will barely drink any milk, others he will only have milk. 

(At this point I’m just gonna mention that R doesn’t have any teeth yet, but he will happily chew away on baby biscuits, fruit and veg – cooked or uncooked. Teeth are not necessary for BLW) 

On a day where he eats food and drinks milk this is our usual routine: 

Begin to wake at 8am – Milk in bed. 

10am – Breakfast. Usually Cow & Gate 10m+ Fruity Crunch Cereal, mixed with breastmilk. 

1130am – Snack. Rusk biscuit / Fruit and a few crisps (Organix Carrot Stix) 

1230pm – Breastmilk and Nap. 

2pm – Lunch. Depends on what we have in the house but e.g Cooked chicken breast cut into chunks, slices of cucumber and breadsticks or toast. 

4pm – Fruit chunks. Of late it’s been strawberries as they seem to go down a treat. 

430pm – Milk and short nap (30-40 mins)

530pm – Dinner. Whatever we are eating. This can depend on what were eating as to whether i mash it and feed him or if he can eat it himself. 

8pm – Milk and bed. 

130am – Milk. 

430am – Milk. 

It seems like a lot when it’s all written down like that but before anyone jumps to conclusions he’s not a fat or overfed baby. He’s actually quite small, but then so are we and he is also very active, he’s only still if he’s sleeping.  

This mixture of Purees and Baby Led also works for us because it gives him a good range of textures, tastes and feels. It teaches him how to hold food, but also table manners. He understands the spoon goes in the bowl, not his hands, but if I place it on his high chair tray, he can pick it up with his hands. 

We have never held back on what he can try either. If he looks like he wants to taste something, we will let him. I’m not here to decide what he likes and dislikes. If he wants to try a new fruit, let him, he wants to try some hot sauce, let him taste a little. I grew up with a very limited range of tastes, my dad liked bland, boring food, and so that’s what we ate. It wasn’t until my parents split up that I started to try new things, and really, it wasn’t until I met my partner that my view on food really expanded but even now im still very fussy. I always said that I wouldn’t let that be the way for my kids. 

This is obviously not a “you should be doing this” list. This is what works for us and our baby. But as I said above it doesn’t always work out like that, some days he will eat store bought pouches, some days he’ll refuse to eat dinner and just pull his hair. It’s hit and miss. 

But that’s why it’s called weaning. This isn’t supposed to be a strict set of rules for you to adhere to, it’s a guide, it’s a process. And I feel like too much these days you see so much pressure on new mums to get their kid on solids as soon as possible, when actually that’s not always what’s best for anyone. 

Just because someone else’s kid was ready at 5 months, doesn’t mean yours has to be. Just because someone thinks milk is only good for the first 6 months, doesn’t mean they’re right. 

Read and research, of course. Make sure you have a head full of knowledge when it comes to this stuff, cause it’s best to be prepared, but don’t fret if your child still wants more milk than solids at 9 months old, or if they don’t want to eat with a spoon and would rather stuff their fingers in the bowl. 

This process is malleable to what you need it to be, and you’ll figure it out together along the way. 

(Please remember that breastmilk or formula milk is recommended as a sole source of nutrition for your baby until 6 months. And that it should continue as part of their diet until at least a year. Also consult your Dr or Peadiatrician before beginning your baby on any solid foods or cereals and be sure to stay away from allergy groups until after 1 year old) 


6 things I wish I’d been told about childbirth. 

I’m gonna level here, this post is gonna be a little gruesome. It’s gonna be real. It also might be a bit long, because this is not another list telling you to ‘take the pants the hospital give you’ (mainly cause in England, you have to supply your own nasty maternity underwear) No, this is a list of real shit I wish someone had told me about childbirth and the days after giving birth. 

#1 Your waters don’t always break before you start having contractions.

This one baffled me. For me, my contractions started at about 1030am, not that I realised. I thought I had gas, or constipation. I got out of bed in the morning with my stomach feeling a little off, but I put it down to a late night take away with my partner. It wasn’t until around noon that I realised I was having contractions, and most of that was because my waters hadn’t broken.

I had this image in my head of Phoebe from Friends when she’s stood in the apartment and they’re all about to go to Atlantic city, when they all take a step back because oh god, her waters just broke!

Mine broke in the hospital, all over the floor and my clothes and freaked me out, but I’ll explain why later on. But sometimes, they don’t break like a wave, they can trickle, and a lot of women don’t realise because they think it’s just baby playing footsie with their bladder again.

#2 Your Body Does The Pushing, not you. 

THIS. This is what freaked me out. I thought something was wrong. There i am, squatting on the floor, riding through contractions like a champ  (yep, giving myself a pat on the back here) when suddenly, I feel like all my organs are going to come out. Seriously, from my heart downwards, everything was pushing.

This is when my waters broke. This is when I also realised: movies and tv shows fucking lie! Which yes, on hindsight should have been obvious, but apparently I’m not the only one.

I cried and screamed at the midwife “I’M NOT DOING IT! HELP ME!” And I’m pretty sure she laughed, but who knows I could have been hallucinating by this point.

Anyhoo.. Your Body Does The pushing. The midwives do ask you to help once you’re actually legs-up-baby-half-out, but the female body is an amazing thing, most of the work is already happening for you, which in the beginning is really scary, but once you get over it, it’s really awesome. And for whatever reason, this little tidbit of information gets left out from every conversation about childbirth. (I know this because a friend who had their kid after me was just as surprised as I was!)

#3 The pain is not over once you’ve pushed baby out

OHH no, it’s not. You’re there, lying on a bed, delirious from the mass of hormones riding through your body at that moment, you feel no pain, you have no dignity, you barely even realise if you’re covered up down there while various doctors, midwives and family members sail around you.

Oh so peaceful until..*cue music* They tell you to pee.

What? What did you say? You want me to get up? Are you sure that the rest of my organs won’t fall out of the 10cm hole I just squeezed an 8lb watermelon from? Okay, no problem, let me just gather up all these bloodied sheets to drag across the floor and I’ll go pee for you.

This ladies, is where it all begins. The afterpain. You ever had a UTI? A burning when you pee? Multiply it by 100 on your pain scale. And that is how much it hurts when you have a 1st degree tear. That’s MINOR. Apparently.

Until this point you kind of think its all over, maybe it’s cause everyone finally leaves you alone. They’ve checked you over and stuck and needle in your leg to help the placenta birth (which is weirdly relieving!) And you’re kinda numb from it all I guess. Even the walk to the bathroom isn’t terrible, the worst part of that is that your legs feel like jelly.

Any readers who have done that with 2nd or 3rd degree tears, I fucking applaud you for the rest of my life. You are heroes in hospital gowns.

#4 Breastfeeding..

I feel like I’m going to dedicate a whole post to breastfeeding soon. Because this point needs far more explanation than what I can give it within this list. But here are the basics of what no one told me.

Breastfeeding is hard. As natural as it is, you baby can latch on quick or can struggle for days.

It hurts like fuck for a while. Your nipples are sore, and I mean really sore. It’s this weird thing when baby latched for the first time, because you’re super relieved and happy that they’ve done it, and overwhelmed that your body is just feeding another human life without you really having to make much effort, but it also feels like someone has decided to make one of those ‘1000 degree knife vs ‘ videos to your nipples. Your boobs then get enormous and heavy and painful over the next few days, your back hurts from the heavy boobs, and from practically sleeping upright for a week straight, if not longer.

You feel like a cow. No joke, I sat on my bedroom floor 3 days in and cried hysterically to my partner because “I feel like a cow. All he wants me for is food. Every time he’s near me he just wants to eat” Part of this is the huge drop in hormones that’s more commonly known as the baby blues, but even 10 months on, there are times I still feel like a damn cow.

There’s so much to breastfeeding that needs to be addressed. I will write it all out, and when I do, I’ll link back to it.

#5 Have a birth plan, but be prepared to throw it out the window. 

I had a birth plan, I mean I wasn’t anything set in stone so much as a guide for my midwives. I said i wanted to start at the bottom of pain meds and work my way up. I said that if I need to have any emergency treatment then to go for it. And really that was kind of it.

But there are women out there who have very particular birth plans, and something i have seen across the internet is women who have become massively distressed at the fact their births didn’t go to plan. To the point where they have focussed on that so much that they have disconnected from their baby in the months after giving birth.

Childbirth is natural. It is instinctual. And it doesnt always go to plan. Sometimes babies have a different agenda, and what you sat and planned out isn’t possible. Sometimes (God forbid) something goes wrong.

I couldn’t even take gas and air during my labour. I hadnt eaten a thing that day, the contractions made me feel nauseous, and gas and air made that worse. I had no time for any other pain relief. I entered the hospital at 4.16pm and by 4.55pm, my son was in the world. I did however find a way for that gas and air while pushing, trust me, when you have to make the decision between throwing up again, or labour pain, you pick throwing up.

And last but most certainly not least


Everyone will judge you. Whether you breastfeed or formula.

Whether you bed-share or put them in a separate room from the start.

When you want to wean, leave the house, take a shower etc etc. The list is honestly endless.

It is all bullshit.

Judgement of how people want to raise their own kids is bull. As long as they are fed, watered, happy, healthy and gaining weight, and as long as (obviously, but some smart arse will point this out) you are not abusing or neglecting your child, then you are doing what is best for your child.

Yes some people will raise their kids to be assholes, but some people raise kind and genuine people. It’s all about balance.

I felt like I was being judged before I’d even given birth. I wanted my partner and my mum in the room, no one else. People got offended. I told them I didn’t want him being passed around like a party game when he was barely an hour old. People got offended. I wanted to go home the same day I have birth. The hospital got offended.

So as a final note, my best advice to anyone about to have a baby: Just say fuck it and do what you want to do, and what you think is best for you and your baby. That’s all that matters!


Friday Movie Review. 

Good morning everyone, and welcome to what I hope will be a weekly feature. 

Each Friday my mum has the day off work and R and I usually go to spend the day at her house, eat lunch, drink coffee and watch terrible daytime tv. It’s something we’ve done pretty much since he was born. 

Anyway…Today we had the absolute pleasure of watching NYC: Tornado Terror. 

I feel like I should put some kind of disclaimer on this post about how absolutely dire this film was. It was so bad, that i recommend you watch it as a benchmark for bad movies, cause I guarantee you won’t find anything as bad as this ever again. 

Let’s start with the plot, this film is about a group of people, one of them a meteorologist, who tries to stop a bout of tornadoes that hit New York City after the northern and southern atmospheres separate. Along the way, we see some terrifying scenes of frozen people, extremely afraid women pointing to the sky (this is great!) I’ll get back to this.) And some strange and eerie lightning orbs. All before the meteorologist wifey who wasn’t listened to in the first place, (well duh! Why would a female who knows what she’s talking about be listened to by the almighty male mayor of New York?) hatches a master plan, and saves the day, much to the enjoyment of everyone who didn’t listen to her in the first place, and of course her husband who then gets appointed to be mayor. Naturally. 

Sounds exciting right?! Oh it is. Im gonna give you just the best moments of this film. The rest, you need to watch for yourself. 

Frozen people and scared woman points to the sky

The tornadoes have begun in the city, and of course the emergency services are on the scene to tend to the injured. Cue the arrival of aforementioned meteorologist and wife to the deputy mayor, Cassie Lawrence. She surpasses any kind of cordon and makes her way around the various dead bodies covered in some kind of dust or ice, without really being fazed by them until she sees that of a mother a baby (I’m assuming here due to the well placed pram before she gasps at something off camera). After turning around she sees a shocked woman sat on some steps, shaking. She immediately asks her what happened here, and the woman looks up at her, turns and looks at the sky and then still shaking uncontrollably points up at the sky without saying a word. 

This is just humorous. It’s awful. And really needs to be seen to be believed. It’s possibly the worst acting I have ever seen, and I hope whoever played that part never actually puts it on her resumè. 

Electricity + water = death 

Now this is something I was taught so early in my life, I don’t actually remember being taught it, and I’m sure the same goes for most people. You’d also think that a firefighter, would know this? Given that they usually need to know how to put out certain fires without water. 

Apparently not. 

While an extremely annoying news reporter and her crew are on the scene of one of fires caused by buildings coming down, the various lead characters in this movie are trying to contain and fight what seems to be a floating orb of lightening. (I feel like I need to watch again to fully grasp what’s going on with that) 

When the floating orb of lightning starts to make it’s way outside and down the electrical cables connected to the building, it looks as though the world’s most annoying news reporter and her crew are set to perish, but thankfully for them, a selfless firefighter turns around at exactly the right moment and saves them by pointing his water gun at the lightning and being electrocuted himself instead, causing his untimely death. 

The fact that the hoses are made of rubber, plus the rubber gloves and usually rubber soled shoes he was wearing that probably would have actually prevented his death, I feel i must point out that this is a character that features in the very beginning of the film with a love interest, so of course, he had to die. 

Second to the whole fireman would have known not to point water at electricity thing, the love interest who m has been hospitalised since the beginning of the film, finds out about his death from, you guessed it, the news reporter. Informing next of kin doesn’t matter if you’ve got a hell of a story to tell in this movie. 

To finish out, I give this 1 star, only given for the sheer creativity it must have taken to actually get someone to spend their money making this go awful film. But I honestly do urge you to watch it. Crack open the popcorn and enjoy it for an alternative comedy. 

Have you seen this movie? Tell me what you thought! Or give me a suggestion for our next film review? Leave a comment below or @ me on Twitter @Babybird_Mum.


Please stop worsening my mum guilt.

Mum guilt. It’s real. It’s horrible. 
I get accused all the time of being too attached to my son. Of not leaving him alone with other people more often. He has been properly without me twice in his 10 month life. Once when his daddy took him out, he was around 3 months old and they were gone for maybe an hour? And then a second time on mothers day, when his daddy took me out and left him with his grandma.

But there’s something that people don’t see. It’s not because I don’t want him to be with anyone but me. In fact, I’d actually love to have a few hours to myself for once, and let’s not lie, I’m only going to be doing housework or sleeping, but still. But it’s because I get this overwhelming guilt.

It became really apparent to me today that this is (one of many) reasons that I don’t ask people to babysit more often. Let me enlighten you to my thought process.

Today, my SO got given a day off work. He was pretty much out of the door when his boss text him and told him to take today off as he worked Sunday. Brilliant! It gets to around noon, I’ve done breakfast for all three of us, we’ve played and then he’s had a nap (albeit on me because he decided he was having a breastfed nap today, thanks heatwave), I take him back downstairs to his daddy and say “right, I’m gonna go shower”

Now I understand that a 15 minute shower and under the care of daddy does not class as babysitting, but what it does count as , is time to myself. Proper uninterrupted alone showering time.

That is until the guilt hits. Until i suddenly think i can hear him screaming because i left the room and he hasn’t seen me in 3.5 seconds. And then i rush, because oh god it’s not fair on daddy to have him screaming at him like that just because I’m not there.

It’s like, I feel that because I made him and gave birth to him, it’s my job to look after him. Everyone else can obviously have their cuddles and playtime, but when he starts to fuss I feel like that fussing becomes a burden to anyone else. Like they’ll be judging me if I don’t step in sooner. Like secretly they’re thinking “Come on, step up this is your bit, I’ve had the nice bit and he’s done and so am i”

It stems a little from people actually giving him straight back to me as soon as he squeaked when he was smaller. No one ever tried to soothe him, they just assumed he wanted me because he wanted the boob. I’d comply because it would get him to settle quickly, even if I knew he wasn’t hungry or tired, so he’s never been used to anyone other than me settling him. It’s not surprising that I worry he will cry till he wears himself out if I’m gone too long.

It is ridiculous. And I fully understand that. But if I feel that guilt when R is with his daddy for 15 minutes, how on earth will I feel if I leave him with someone else for 3 hours? The guilt will be unbearable.

I know it is something that I have to deal with, and I will, because once I can force my way through that dark cloud of guilt, I know that my baby is in safe hands, and that even if he screams a bit because I’m not there, I will go back to him, and he’ll understand that mummy comes back. And aside from all those things, the two times he has been without me, he was absolutely fine.

So just a word of advice to all the families and friends with new mum’s and new babies in their lives, if you ever find yourself thinking that a mum has gotten too attached to her baby (not that it is a problem frankly, but that is a whole other issue) but just stop and think for a second, that she might just have a serious case of mum guilt, and you telling her that she is too attached but not doing anything to help remedy it, is not helping her at all, all it’s doing is making her think she’s a bad mum.


Father’s Day is a weird holiday.

It’s filled with images of men who only like sheds, or football, or beer, and they’re all 40-50 somethings who are balding and have a big beer belly. What about the rest of the dad’s who aren’t like that? 

What about the dad’s who like shopping, or tennis and don’t drink? What about the young dads, the fit dads, the full head of hair dads? 

It’s especially difficult when you’re the mum of a child who’s dad doesn’t fit into  the commercial dad bracket. What do I get him? Anything? It’s doesn’t feel like there’s anything really around. There’s all the cliche ‘#1 daddy’ mugs or keyrings or photo frames, but all those things just get put in a cupboard, only to be seen again when moving house and then thrown away. 

And getting nothing feels like I don’t care. 

People suggested to me to cook him dinner, well I do that every day. Let him sleep in and you take the baby, again happens all the time. 

Nothing seemed right. So I feel a bit crap today really. I got a card, and got R to hold the pen while I squiggled his name. Then met him in town and bought him a beer, but now it’s just a regular day. There hasn’t been anything special about today for him, and I feel like a let down. Like I should have done something better. Made more of an effort for him, but I don’t know how. 

If anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear them. I’ll keep them in mind for next year!