Raising kids is a walk in the park...

Jurassic Fucking Park.

I was recently asked "how do you do it?!"

I quickly came to realise that this is not because i'm a boss mom by any means, its because I've finally grasped time management that I'm able to enjoy kids and business.. but we all burn out sometimes and unfortunately we only share our achievements, what's made us happy, extra effort meals/cute breakfasts on our socials, so we're actively portraying an amazing life.

We've seen so much of it online recently, be real, don't let Instagram influencers make you feel shit, unfollow unhealthy accounts.. and whilst we all need to take responsibility for what we expose ourselves to daily, this approach can also stop people from wanting to share their achievements in fear of appearing false, altered or effectively photoshopping their life.

I saw a quote being shared recently about staying silent, working on your dreams in private and let the success be the noise.

Fack off.

Listen, If you've achieved something, are building something, are going through something, have learnt from something, failed, made a mistake... the list goes on, if you want to share it,even if no one engages, SHARE! Talk as if the world is listening because your journey no matter how big or small is inspiring someone, your words, post or picture helped someone in their path.

There's a fine line here and Christmas is a prime example.. Parents like myself in recent years stopped posting tree full of presents in fear of making others feel inadequate, it's still a valid theory but it got me thinking, does that make the parents working their absolute buttts off to show their love by way of presents (which by the way is what we're doing every time we give a gift whether its 1 or 100) feel like shit? Feel as if they can't post about their achievement? Maybe it's the first Christmas they've been able to forfill the Christmas wish lists? Don't they have the right to post about their success without scrutiny?

You're literally never going to please everyone, so instead of shrinking ourselves to protect others, can't we trust these people to filter accordingly?

Before social media, we 'caught up' offline, and believe me.. if there was a friend I had who I felt bragged about their new car, swanned about their fancy house, flashed shit I couldn't afford in my face constantly and it started to affect the way I felt about myself, my abilities or my achievements, do you think I'd be visiting again anytime soon? Nah.

My point is this, sometimes I post pretty lunches for the kids.. I'll cut dinosaurs out of bread and make sandwiches.. I'll cook healthy as fuck meals from scratch.. I'll have my shit sooo together that the laundry and the housework is done in one day.. I'll drive a nice car.. I'll swan about our 5 bed house... But don't be fooled.

1. I've worked tirelessly and damn fucking hard to get here so if I wanna share my achievements I fucking-well-will.

2. I'll constantly forget to make lunch!

3. Fuck the dino bread, you'll be having cereal kids, breads gone mouldy :)

4. Whilst healthy meals from scratch are my OCD reg habit, I'll still force feed the kids a chinky If we're having one! - anddd they hate it!

5. I'm forever quick washing uniforms when I've forgot and frantically hair-dryer drying them at 7.55am! 10 mins before we have to leave the house!

6. We have not always had reliable cars and we most certainly have had our fair share of shitty rentals and kipped on mates sofas for months at a time with 2 kids in tow!

I'm going to make a conscious effort to Insta VS Reality my shit from now on. Knowing that even my closest friends have thought "how does she do it?" painssss me!

Raising kids is hard I apologise profusely if I've made having kids look even remotely easy.

It's not. It's incredibly rewarding, that feeling of wanting to burst into tears when things have gotten all too much can be taking away with the slightest cheeky grin from your little t-rex so just ride that rollercoaster hons, all our rides are different! And that's ok!

None of us are perfect, coming to you live from Cornwall ft greasy as fuck hair, while my kids beg for dinner.. which fyi is a shitty pasta bake, pasta, philly, tinned tomatoes and cheese. thankyou, bye.


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I can’t fucking do this. I whisper to myself about 200 times a day. It’s not selfish to be real. Why is nobody talking about the boredom that comes with being forced to stay home. (Critics bore off, I