Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

A mothers time is most certainly not her own. October 31, 2011

Any of you mums out there will know that, when you pop out a baby, from that second onwards your time is no longer your own.

Never will you have a wee in the peace and tranquility your urine deserves, because the minute you release those pelvic muscles (well those muscles that weren’t destroyed by the trauma that is childbirth) and the wee starts to flow , you will suddenly hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, in my case the not so tiny patter of 8 and 5 year old feet.

So it begins ” Mum, you said we could have something out the sweetie jar, Mum you said I could go on the laptop!!

Its funny I don’t remember making any of these promises.

For some reason I always start to enter into dialogue with them, then suddenly, it strikes me, why am I sitting on the loo arguing about sweets surely the sweets can wait the 5 minutes that I have oh so selfishly alacated to myself!

The bathroom for us Mums is clearly know longer a relaxing tranquil environment in which to relax and have ME time, no, it is now a place to perform every day necessary functions such as going to the toilet and washing.

Speed is of the essence, as no member of your family ( I include the fully grown adult who shares the house with you, commonly known as The Husband, in that comment) can possibly do without your presence ( the real reason 2 in 1 shampoo was invented) for more than 5 minutes.

This weekend I was having one of those relaxing 5 minute shower breaks when in bursts Youngest son. He informs me he has something really important to tell me, so I listen incase someone has drowned in their frosties. Turns out its not that important, Daddy can’t find the controls!

I look at my darling boy, but he is all of a sudden distracted…….” Mummy why is your willy furry?”.

Ok, two things, must spend time explaining to youngest son that boys have willys and girls have bitbits ( at 5 vagina seems a little harsh!), and I really must book that waxing appointment!


Zero raspberry tolerants. April 19, 2010

I was waiting for my 6 year old daughter to finish school.

The classroom door opened, all the little darlings piled out. All except for one.

And then it happened, the moment every parent waiting in the playground dreads.

The teacher eyes are on you, she points and mutters those fateful words “could you come in for a minute Mrs Bates”.

At this point every fucker in the playground is looking at you, you with the out of control child! Each parent thinking the same thing  ‘ Thank fuck it isn’t me’ and ‘Wonder what Shes done’ followed by the smug parent look.

Across the playground, doing the walk of shame I go.

I enter the classroom and am jestered to sit on the chair next to my delinquent child.

I look at her, you no the look, the I’m going to kick your arse when we get home ,look.

delinquent child stares firmly at the floor.

The grassing up begins.

Teacher: ” There was a problem in the playground today, Daisy and another child (why do they say that, another child, just tell me the fucking name, I’m going to find out the other kids name, during the 3 hour interrogation that I am already planning in my head) blew a raspberry in a childs face.

Hold the front page, 6-year-old blows raspberry at school, it’ll be gun crime before you no it!

Suddenly I start to feel confused, so she got me in here for that. There must be more to it.

Teacher: “Because of this, Daisy had to spend 20 minutes in year 2 as her punishment”.

I decide to be a good parent, and question my raspberry blowing maniac child.

Mum:” So Daisy what happened”. At this point my child is looking at me, equally confused, raspberries in our house are funny!

Delinquent child: ” Aliesha told me to f-u-c…..”

Mum:” She starts sounding out”, ” Ok, ok you don’t need to sound it out”.

Delinquent child: ” …off, so we blow a raspberry”.

Mum: ” Thank you for filling me in, clearly this ‘other’ child provoked them, but I respect you rules and will speak to Daisy at home”.

             ” I am assuming, the child who swore has been suitably punished?”

Teacher ” Well we didn’t see or hear the other child, so I’m afraid…”

So let me get this right. The sneaky little fucker with a mouth like a toilet, gets away scott free and the age appropriate response gets punished.

What a crock of shite.

I leave hastily. Fucking education system!


Things a mother should keep to herself. April 8, 2010

There are certain things that we as mothers are allowed to think about our children, after all, it was us that spent hours, rivalling about in pain, bringing them into the world.

But these things should remain, just that, silent in your head, for only you to ponder.

Yet, I have a friend who constantly breaks this silent rule.

The mother of all faux pa’s….

1.Mother about baby” look he’s really deformed”!

 Look love, we might poke our head in your kids pram, and think . my god, that kids got the face of an arse. But your its mother you are supposed to keep those comments to your self.

There are some things as a mother you should just keep to yourself!

2. “Look at him, he’s ruined, that’s Kevins fault always giving in to him”.

No sweetheart, it might have something to do with the fact that you let him do whatever the fuck he likes!!

3. “I would just like a normal child”.

To be fair all three of her kids are a little bit freakish, but then again, their dads not to hot! (understatement of the century)!

I would love to point out that maybe, just maybe, your kids would be slightly less fucked, if you stopped giving them caffine and sugar!


An early morning call. March 27, 2010

I was completely knackered after another stressful week in the life of a educator.

Thank God for Saturday morning lying.

So, why the fuck did my children feel the need to wake me up at 5.45 am, demanding their breakfast!

My kids aren’t stupid children, their devious little fuckers.

They knew I’d shout at them if they actually woke me up, so they engineered an evil plan ( something they do regually)!

They decided to play with the dog outside my bedroom door, make him growl and excite him enough so that he hopped about like some sort of retard bunny!

Trust me, when you have a 10 stone Rottweiler jumping up and down off your bed. It doesn’t matter if its 5 o’clock in the morning or 10 o’clock in the morning. Its time to get up!

Evil kids 1 , sleeping Mum nil….


Postnatal Pervert! March 24, 2010

Those of you out there who have shot a baby out the natural way, will know, leave your dignity at the door.

Having  just spent 32 hours in pain and 2 hours of pushing and panting, finally my little bundle of  joy arrived.

A little scared to have a wee, I decided to take the bull by the horns, and drunk 2 jugs of water.

After a while the inevitable happened. So I’m sitting on the loo having a wee, completely naked ( was going to have a shower before I went down to the ward) when in walks the porter.

The normal response to this situation is to jump up and slam the door  (swollen crutch doesn’t allow for quick movement), but instead of leaving he just stands there.

So I say: “Er…Hello!”

He replies: ” ” I’ve come for your bags love”

So I say: ” Can you come back later”

What kind of fuck off perve was he? Seriously, to all you male porters out there, if you walk in on a giant postnatal woman sitting on the loo- then for fuck sake leave!