Tag: blogging

#influencingnooneoninstagram #1

I wrote about the unreality of Instagram Mums the other day and it got me thinking about my own Instagram account. I remember the exact moment I realised I would never be a proper Instagram Mum. It was when I took the bubs to see the snowdrops and not only forgot to take the ‘proper camera’ but also, my phone… Read more →

I see you. Your children see you. Can you see you?

The thing with Instagram mums is you can’t see them. If Sarah down the road has her shoes on the wrong feet (hers, not her child’s, it can happen) you can see it. You can see her unwashed hair, her red-rimmed eyes, the numerous fish finger boxes in her recycling. You can see her ill fitting jeans. Women have never been… Read more →

Solidaritea (and up yours Daily Mail)

Reading one of these women’s posts is the equivalent of panicking because everyone in your post-natal group is bringing out brightly coloured snack pots full of home made humous and pasta salad and you have forgotten a snack but then the woman opposite you brings out a tupperware from her bag from last week that she’s forgotten about and it’s got mould growing in it and everyone sees and you just want to hug her and say “Thank you.” Read more →

Beautiful Blogger Award – thank you!

Anyone who describes their blog as “A place to procrastinate when you should be folding washing,” is alright by me. Especially when they nominate me for an award. The lovely Laptop on the Ironing Board (formerly and cutely known as James James Morrison Morrison) nominated me for a Beautiful Blogger award. Isn’t that a pip?! As a mother of four,… Read more →

Crazy Mummy

I’m new to blogging. Like, brand new. But the thing that has struck me about a lot of Mum blogs is the fact they are littered with references to insanity, craziness, chaos, tips to keep sane, tips to embrace the insanity. We’re one step from labeling ourselves hysterical here, and don’t get me wrong, I am sure to reference all… Read more →

Why did I start the DiscomBUBulated blog?

Life as a single woman was full of narrative. I could often been seen nodding knowingly to the lyrics of songs, and ruminating on the hows, whats and whys of every single sodding thing that happened to me. Having a baby has struck me dumb. Not a very promising preamble to a blog, is it? Read more →

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