Chatting about chick lit. Sipping a nice glass of Prosecco. Hanging out with like-minded, bookish friends and adorable, witty writers. You may even be snuggled in your PJs, as you coo over Kinsella or have a craic about the latest Keyes.
Where is this fabled place, I hear you cry. Club Tropicana? Are the drinks really free? Tell me more!
It’s a brand new, sparkling Facebook group called Chick Lit and Prosecco. It’s for readers and writers of the genre to come together, share gossip, and have a whole lot of fun.
And what’s even better? If you’re in love with reading or writing chick lit, it will be bursting at the seams with your soul people.
The ones who get why you haven’t slept for days because you can’t put that fantastic book down. (But you don’t even want it to end! ) The ones who know the thrill of a book sale when you can’t stop stroking and snatching like a kid in a sweet shop. You need these books. You must have them all!
I’ll let you into a little secret…. Now and again I forget to take my contraceptive pill, and all hell breaks loose. Suddenly I’m back Googling early signs of pregnancy like it’s 2014. Only this time it’s with a mild panic.
Don’t get me wrong, if we had an accidental pregnancy I’m sure we would welcome it with open arms. (Unexpected second child, if you’re reading this, Mummy and Daddy think you’re amazing! Thanks for rocking up.)
It’s just that I’m forty this year, it took us a very long time to have a successful pregnancy, and realistically my body doesn’t have a great track record at staying pregnant (you can read more about that here).
One thing I wasn’t prepared for when motherhood kicked off was the amount of time I’d spend feeling guilty. When I haven’t actually done anything wrong!
That DREADED mum guilt. Do you know the thing I mean? It seems to pop up everywhere, like an uninvited jack-in-the-box, with a dumb taunting face and stupid flashing fairy lights. Quite honestly, I wish it would just pee off.
It can quite happily invite itself to any situation. Wobbly toddler has a little topple (whilst you may have been checking your phone)? GUILTY. Baby gets nappy rash because you tried out those two-for-one nappies? GUILTY ONCE MORE.
And if you caught my recent post about comparing your little one to others, you’ll know I feel that panic every time I see a child acing something I haven’t taught my offspring to do.
(Ooh, excited side note – I have a FREEBIE for you at the end..!)
Guilty About the Little Things
Now here’s a mum guilt example. When I was pregnant, I read ALL OF THE BOOKS. I mean, I love a good book anyway, and who doesn’t get excited about a project(!)
Well, this one book called Brain Rules for Baby suggested that children under two shouldn’t watch TV. It was written by a very clever brain scientist, so who was I to argue. (Yes, yes, I know. First time mum with all those crazy ideals! PFFFFFFFFF.)
I mean, since when did overwhelm become a noun as well as a verb – that’s what I want to know.
Was it when we all became so overwhelmingly overwhelmed, that some flashy business guru had to invent more jargon? Well, don’t let it be said Brazen Mummy doesn’t keep you on the cutting edge of fancy schmancy lingo.
So are you suffering with this overwhelm too?
And what does it look like?
Err, you know that thing when you’ve got so much stuff to do you can barely stop for breath? When you might just yank your frazzled hair out and scream big ugly swear bombs just for the eff of it? Yes, well that. (So a friend tells me…)
You may wonder why Brazen Mummy would suffer with this overwhelm. Aren’t I “just” a stay at home mum? Well, firstly, this mumming is a damn sight more demanding than my years of swanning around the office. The days when I could pee solo and make coffee the first time the kettle boiled.
Mumming is a twenty-four hour Piccadilly circus, with no pay and a two foot boss who can tantrum like a b*tch.
I’ve got to say, this toddler tantrum malarkey has pounced on me like a mugger from a bush. I mean, I’d heard all about these terrible twos, but give me a break. My kid’s barely one!
There’s no doubt about it – toddlers are angsty little suckers. It’s like they have all the “why the hell are you getting in my face” rage of a teenager, but with an even worse ability to express themselves. At least teenagers can talk (well, grunt).
It seems like it’s all going on for these toddlers. Teething, the dreaded leaps, having to learn to do ALL OF THE STUFF. No wonder they get ranty.
Now I don’t know much about much, but I’ve been trying out a few tricks in the interests of trying to keep my sanity in the eye of the storm. So I thought I’d share what works for me.