DISCLAIMER – THIS BRAZEN MUMMY QUIZ IS JUST FOR FUN. IN NO WAY SHOULD YOU TAKE PARENTING OR LIFE ADVICE FROM THIS QUIZ. IT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE TO ATTACK PEOPLE WITH SLIPPERS.
Brazen Mummy Question 1
You are at a mums and toddlers group and a bolshie mum (probably dressed in Boden with not a trace of dried baby food on her) snatches a toy from your precious darling to give to her own spoilt offspring. Do you:
A. March over to the woman and give her a lecture on sharing nicely. Nobody steals Peppa Pig from your kid and gets away with it.
B. Gawp in disbelief and find something better for your little one to play with. You were sick of Peppa Whats-Its-Face anyway.
C. Round up some more toys to give to the scary lady and her child. Come on, she might beat you up…
Brazen Mummy Question 2
Your breastfed baby is screaming for milk. You’re in a busy restaurant and fully within your rights to feed your baby wherever you flipping please, but the people at the next table start scowling at you as you make a move to start breastfeeding. Do you: Continue reading “Quiz – Are You a Brazen Mummy?”
I’ve been mulling it over since Little B was born, and generally putting it off. Of course it’s easy to put things off when you have a baby to keep alive. You barely have time to clean your teeth for the first few months. Then the weaning starts and you’re busy chiselling dried up pea puree from every flipping surface. Then the blighters start crawling and tearing your house up – so there’s never a good time to be mucking around with a blog.
Impostor Syndrome – Look at All the Proper Mums!
But maybe the real reason is I wasn’t quite sure if I was a proper mum yet. At least not one that had anything useful to say. When I looked at other mummy blogs they all seemed to be juggling multiple kids and being gorgeous and hilarious all at once. Some of them even made dainty cupcakes and nice bits of jewellery out of pasta. Bloody hell. Maybe those are the proper mums. I don’t even have a proper mum car.
I have a lot of cupboards in my kitchen. A lot. Plus a large cubbyhole which some might describe as a pantry. Not saying my kitchen is huge, more that it’s been well planned. (Not by me. Perhaps by a fellow hoarder in days gone by – thank you, my dear.)
But would you look at this mess. A few days after Christmas and I still can’t fit all the Christmas food into the cupboards. I’ve even got spare cake in our bedroom.
Cake. In our bedroom! What on Earth?
And also Toblerone and chocolate truffles so B-Daddy is now pointing out. Who rattled his cage? Urgh.
So I’m a closet writer. They say the first step is admitting it.
I’ve been thrashing away at my laptop over the past…ahem…few years, writing and rewriting (a million times) my first rom com novel. (My predictive text did not understand rom com. It offered me poo boo. Thanks.)
A Writer, You Say?
A few people know about this dratted book, but very few have seen proof of its existence. It has become like my secret shame. When people ask me how it’s coming along, I want to kill them. Extreme, I know. But when the truth is that you’ve got another long and arduous edit ahead and you’re losing the will to live, it’s them or you! The road to becoming a published writer is loooooooong.