Today I had such a lush day with my little beans. We went to the “nail shop” in the morning for mummy to get her nails done (I was feeling a bit shit and thought “fuck it. I’m gonna spend my birthday money on me) and I felt proud the entire time as people swooned over my adorable children and they acted like little super stars.

Then we went to Tesco and bought picnic food before heading to a water/picnic spot that is about 10 minutes from my house and fucking beautiful. I’ve lived her 11 years and have never been, it was so perfect.

We splashed in the lake, played paw patrol, ate crusty bread sandwich’s, kicked a ball about and looked for the Gruffalo; like is said, perfect.

Then I saw the photos of myself (below). Seriously, how the flying fuck have I let this happen?! I look like a fucking Gruffalo myself. I’m disgusted and feel sick. My head isn’t actually small, my body is just HUGE!!!

This is when parenting gets tricky. The beans picked up on my mood despite me trying to hide it. They kept asking what was wrong and why I wasn’t laughing. I couldn’t answer. The LAST THING I ever want is for them to know the meaning and the feeling of self-loathing. They are perfect and that is all they should ever feel.

I put them in the tub and told them they stank because we’d spent all afternoon in a lake that the Gruffalo poo’s in. That is when my very quick witted daughter (Bean#1) told me to get in with them because I too had been in the lake.

Having already dodged questions about why mummy wasn’t having dinner with them and having to pretend to eat the folk fulls of spag bol they were feeding me, I felt this was a request I couldn’t refuse.

Getting your kit off when you’ve just seen the look of human you are is pretty tough. So I’m in the tub, Bean#1 washed my back and Bean#2 poured jugs of water over my legs I started to cry. Yep, I totally caved and let the beans see me upset.

I could tell you they cuddled me and told me everything would be okay, but I’m not gonna to romanticise the moment. We’re all rough as arse holes with dark souls. They laughed. “Mummy why are you sad?! It’s just a bubble bath and we’re being gentle.” Obvs I then started laughing and the moment passed.

I dunno, this mumming shit doesn’t get any easier. I don’t want to be a shallow fuck and care soooo much about being built like the marshmallow man, but I’m still me despite these small beans hanging on my skills of parenting so I fuck up now and again. I’m only writing this post to stop myself from going downstairs and eating every thing that is yellow food in my kitchen.

I want their outlook on life. It’s so simple and so happy. We had a good day, so what if I spent all of it looking like a trashy mum that eats her feelings…let’s be honest…I kinda am. I’m still raising some pretty incredible fucking humans. They still wanted that bubble bath with me, they still snuggled up with me to watch a dvd in bed, what else do I need? Fuck it. Pass the pizza.