Browsing Category : Alpha/Beta Mummy Doodles

Beta Mummy is Beach Ready!


BEACH READY.

I have a hatred of that little phrase/descriptor. It is always used to sell exercise regimes and magazines and shitty fad diets – and by extension to make women feel crap about themselves if they are anything other than a fitness model. It implies that if you’re not “beach ready” as they describe, perhaps you’d better not go to the beach – and my god, woman, don’t you dare think about wearing a bikini – MY EYES, MY EYES!!

Death by laundry…


Dirty laundry (the literal kind) is the bane of my existence.  I don’t know where it all comes from but it seems to breed like some kind of evil comic-book fungus.  Occasionally I find actual fungus, if I manage to get somewhere near the dark, dank depths of the lower reaches of my laundry basket.

Beta Mummy Doesn’t Share Her Chocolate!


Beta Mummy is rather possessive when it comes to her little sweet treats.  (She’s quite happy to share the kids’ chocolate, though, that’s totally fine). Alpha Mummy probably doesn’t eat chocolate (she’s one of those super-healthy, grow-your-own, gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan, fruitarian, paleo, farmers’ market-buying, non-sugar eating types) but if she did it’d probably be the best chocolate in the world… …

A Beta Mummy Guide to Doing a Baby Sale


I recently sold a load of my baby crap at a nearly-new sale.  It wasn’t an NCT one (I’m not sure my shabby offerings would be welcome there), but there are loads of the same sort of thing around these days.  Great for picking up a bargain or three as a buyer, and also great for getting rid of your shit.  Because if you’ve had kids I guarantee you’ll have an awful lot of baby detritus cluttering up your house.  Here are my genuinely useful (who knew?!) tips for selling at a baby sale:

Beta Mummy Dreads…WORLD BOOK DAY


Thursday 1st March 2018 is World Book Day.

Beta Mummies, do not panic! I repeat, DO NOT PANIC!

(OK, panic just a little bit, after all this is one of the most dreaded days of the school year for useless mothers like me who don’t do sewing or crafty shit).

Beta Mummy’s Attempt at Leaving the House


Leaving the house becomes a military exercise once you have children. A military exercise that involves pain, carnage, tears, shouting, and possibly loss of life, or at least loss of the will to live. These days, I have one child to get to nursery, one to get to school, and myself to get to work. Thanks to “flexible working”, I…

Beta Mummy gets Board to Death


I used to love a good board game, me. Scrabble, Monopoly, Rapidough – there’s a game for every sort of occasion, from a cosy Winter’s afternoon in with your love, to an increasingly-drunken night with your best mates.  Sigh.  I can’t remember the last time I played a proper grown ups game.  Now my occasional forays into board games involve either educational bollocks or spending three times as long setting the thing up as actually playing it. 

Say Mama…or Why Does Daddy Get All The Glory?!


What were your babies’ first words?

My babies are not really babies any more.  I am Mum, not Mummy or Mama.  At the time of writing they are 3 and 5 years old, and smelly and argumentative.  They answer back, dispute just about everything I say, and scream and shout until I genuinely have to insert ear plugs.

But once upon a time, they couldn’t speak, except in baby language – goo, gaa, arrrrrrgggggghhhhhh, etc.  And how I longed for them to speak!  I spent hours each day, in the latter throes of maternity leave, and when I was working part time, sitting face to face with them, practically begging them to talk.