It's funny this blog. And not just the side-splittingly hilarious sort of a quick 'ha ha' funny (although, *mwah* thanks for noticing); but funny odd.

Every day, it's there. Hanging round like an eggy trump that refuses to waft away. Mithering me while I'm trying to load the dishwasher ("what you gonna write about?"), while I'm eating my tea ("what you gonna write about?), while I'm fobbing off the Avon lady ("what you gonna write about? Eh? Well? You've had all day,…

I have just discovered, while towel drying (incredibly carefully) the seven follicles atop The Poop's pate, that seemingly over night, she has sprouted enough hair to HAVE. A. PARTING.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Full post www.myfunnymummy.org x

I have just discovered, while towel drying (incredibly carefully) the seven follicles atop The Poop's pate, that seemingly over night, she has sprouted enough hair to HAVE. A. PARTING.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Full post www.myfunnymummy.org x

There it is. Amid the pile of 'Stuff I'll Get Round To Shortly'. You can just see it, peeping out from beneath the unwritten Christening 'Thank You' cards that should have gone out in April. 

Let's have a look inside it. Yep. Untouched since that February post.

This, ladies and gentlemen, categorically and undeniably proves I'm the carefree, cool, nonchalant, easy going mother I always knew I could be. Kerchiiiing! It might even mean I'm not a weirdo…

She would be upset. I knew that. After almost a year of my daily guidance, love, support and tuition, being left in the care of lesser human beings was always going to be a shock to her system. Still, the trade off for not being in my sublime company is the opportunity for her to become more adaptable, mature, sociable and have greater confidence in her own abilities. Okay, so it's not a fair trade, but again, that's another life lesson that'll stand her in good stead. Turns out abandonment…

It's boring in our house.
My naturally inquisitive young mind is keen to explore, test, challenge and understand. Yet my investigations are stopped in their tracks and as a result, my long term intellectual growth is impaired by my miserable sod of a mother.
Full post

http://www.myfunnymummy.org

Nah. I don't like it. I'm sorry. It's just too weird.

Whatever happened to the dog that was scheduled to urinate up the side of the pram as we ate? How come one of my bra wires didn't work loose and subsequently focus all its attention on attempting to saw my whole body in half as I ambled around the shops? I wasn't even offered ONE TINY OPPORTUNITY TO WASTE THREE OR FOUR MINUTES COMPLETING MARKET RESEARCH/A SLIP, TRIP OR FALL CLAIM/BEING INTERVIEW ABOUT MY CAVITY WALL INSULATION…

Six years ago today, I married David Michael Briars.

If it hadn't been for this very day, six years ago:

I would still receive post addressed to 'Miss Catherine Balls'/'Miss Catherine Bowels' - neither of which, not once in six years, have I ever missed

The washing basket would fill up much more slowly

I would waste less cups of tea

Full post…

Every parent has to expect it; I just didn't expect it yet.

In my mind's eye I pictured heated stand offs with The Poop when she's fourteen years old (where she gets upset about the fact that I still call her The Poop, and I tell her I find it funny, and because the world is a cruel, unfair place, she's just going to have to deal with it).

I did not ever anticipate ROWING (that's the argumentative version of that word - not the athletic one - otherwise what a very different post…

Just try and tell me that that is not the cutest, prettiest, most charming and delightfully adorable little face you have ever laid eyes on. And she isn't even trying.
www.myfunnymummy.org

Understandably, me and Dave are utterly delighted with this latest milestone of progress. What is absolutely not in the least bit delightful about it is the fact that The Poop insists on practising her new skill in only the most specific of conditions. She will not merely stand to command like some performing monkey. The circumstances are to be just right.

She must:

a) Be placed on a slippery surface.

Ice/banana skins/wet marble/a greased baking tray/damp patio decking/a…

Understandably, me and Dave are utterly delighted with this latest milestone of progress. What is absolutely not in the least bit delightful about it is the fact that The Poop insists on practising her new skill in only the most specific of conditions. She will not merely stand to command like some performing monkey. The circumstances are to be just right.

She must:

a) Be placed on a slippery surface.

Ice/banana skins/wet marble/a greased baking tray/damp patio decking/a…

Mum got me to eat A MAN this week. Yep. An actual piece of a fella. I say fella, it could have been a woman - in fact, for fear of offending anyone, we'll just say I ate part of a person.

Now, I'm all for new experiences and giving things a go, yet even for an open minded, worldly wise, see-it-done-it broad such as myself, this request was a bit of a bolt from the blue.

My present diet…

Mum got me to eat A MAN this week. Yep. An actual piece of a fella. I say fella, it could have been a woman - in fact, for fear of offending anyone, we'll just say I ate part of a person.

Now, I'm all for new experiences and giving things a go, yet even for an open minded, worldly wise, see-it-done-it broad such as myself, this request was a bit of a bolt from the blue.

My present diet…

Under Dave's orders, tonight's is a short post as apparently, over the last couple of weeks, due to spending my evenings updating this blog, I have been "neglecting my wifely duties"...
Full post www.myfunnymummy.org x

Seriously, properly, absolutely and completely well good.

Yesterday The Poop was a lethargic, vomit stained, tender skinned little mite, piping out poos the consistency of gravy, which absolutely did not smell like gravy. Today? A vision of shining, sparkling, smiling loveliness who has slept like a, well, dream, and has since shelled out some encouragingly sturdy stools.

Full post…

We called the emergency doctor and were given a 1am appointment. Panicking, rushing and just generally being absolutely pathetic, I dressed myself in the nearest available garmentry. And while it might not be the most obvious attire in which to attend a medical centre in St Helens in the early hours of a Thursday morning, the Bermuda shorts, poncho and diving flippers combo more than demonstrated my unquestionable commitment to my daughter's well being. Dave trotted out in sportswear,…