Monthly Archives : May 2016

Alpha Mummy & Beta Mummy do… Pregnancy.


There are some people (Alpha Mummy I’m looking at you) who seem to have been born to be pregnant.  They conceive at just the perfect time (September baby, ideal, top of the class) at the first time of trying.  They eat and drink everything they’re “supposed” to, and nothing they’re not.  With a carefully chosen, fashionable maternity wardrobe they manage to look stylish and elegant as their compact bump blooms, whilst they add pregnancy yoga and hypno-birthing classes into their usual exercise programme (which they continue up until at least 38 weeks).

Beta Mummy is let loose on BML16!


Right. This is where I say “hi” to fellow Britmums Live-goers, so we all get to know each other a little bit beforehand, with the aim of minimising the terror of walking into a room full of 500 people I don’t know, to talk about a subject that I know pretty much nothing about….ho hum. Screw these questions, I’m relying on dutch courage and the lure of free cake to get me there!

Little doodle of Beta Mummy peering around the corner to wave Hi!

Extremely serious cake review & giveaway!


One can’t afford to be flippant when discussing something so serious as cake.  Cake is a Very Important Commodity after all.  In the words of Daddy Pig, “I’m a bit of an expert” when it comes to cake. Eating it, that is. Mary Berry I ain’t, as you may have gathered from my Baking post.

The Mummy Hangover.


Oh god.  Ohhhhhhhhhh god.  This is bad.  This is really, reaalllly bad.

Beta Mummy likes a drink, there’s no denying it.  A little large glass of wine at the end of the day (or even in the middle of the day, to be fair) is usually a must – let’s face it, it’s well-deserved after a day toddler-wrangling.  However, even Beta Mum knows that it’s not a good idea to over-indulge in “Mummy’s special juice”, because these days it doesn’t take much to incite the mother-of-all-hangovers.  And these days a hangover doesn’t mean lying in bed until midday, followed by a huge greasy fry-up, Saturday Kitchen and a possible hair of the dog pint later on.  Oh no no no.

The Mums’ Night Out.


It goes pretty much without saying that, once you’re a mum, your social life changes somewhat.  Spontaneous nights out become a thing of the past, now you have babies/children to feed, put to bed, organise a babysitter for.  Drinking heavily into the wee small hours is no longer a great idea, not now that the wee small hours is precisely when you’re likely to be woken up by a demand for Cheerios and Peppa.  Besides, a hangover hardly bears thinking about when you have noisy little dictators to manage in the morning, AND will sacrificing several hours of (potential) sleep be worth it, given your cumulative sleep deficit?

Alpha Mummy & Beta Mummy in…The Playdate.


Ah, the playdate. A veritable mine of blog post inspiration. (Incidentally, I don’t like the term “playdate”. I’m sure we didn’t use it when I was a kid.  However, it seems to be pretty ubiquitous now, and it’s snappier than “having friends round to play”, so I’ll stick with it for the time being – happy to receive alternative suggestions).  The playdate is yet another one of those things that seems like a good idea at the time. Keeps the kids entertained for a couple of hours, and you can have a good old chinwag with your mummy pals over a nice cuppa.

Packed Lunch Woes.


The nightly ritual of making the packed lunches does my bloody nut.  I always seem to forget about them until about 10pm, when I’m just about to go to bed, by which point I’m in no fit state* to hunt around for dinosaur cutters and employ actual imagination or thought.