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Category: Our stories

  • Never Shop At Aldi You Have Been Warned!!

    Well bugger me, there is no ‘right time’ to do an Aldi Shop.

    If you choose to take your beautiful children, they will absolutely destroy you!!

    Can I have this useless stuff I’ll never use Mummy?

    Can I have a crappy magazine that I’ll probably eat when im bored, with an even crappier choke hazard Toy inside it for £6 Mummy

    Can I have 369 Bananas Mummy

    Can I have 4 packs of Kinder Eggs Mummy

    SHUT THE HELL UP!! Can i have my Bladder control back that you both took when you shot out?? You thieving little kids! NO I cant!!

    Within 2 Minutes of stepping inside, you’re approximately £10 down already, you’re hiding behind the Cereal having an anxiety attack, popping PRN Propranolol from your bag, whilst carrying a Shitty Magazine, 369 Bananas and watching your 3 Year Old totally lose her shit on the floor because you won’t buy her every Kinder Egg from the shelves!!

    If you choose to go alone on the very rare occasion you have no kids, bloody Doreen’s always out and she WILL mess with your Day!!

    Everybody knows Aldi is a ONE WAY System!! You go in, then up and down the aisles in a one way system until you get to Turbo Tracey’s Till at the end when you need another Propranolol!! If you get to the Milk and realise you forgot Bread, tough ! You’re screwed. You have to go back to the beginning and round again! It’s the unwritten rule, Yes?

    No, Not Doreen. She’s a bloody rebel!

    She cuts across all the isles without checking her blind spots like the bastard STIG in a Bugatti and nearly takes you out, all for a pack of part cooked crusty cobs that she can’t even bloody chew! 

    Then you’re left with a choice. Should I politely say “go on Love, you’re ok” or, do I smash her in the back of the Ankles with the trolley, blame a random 3 Year old and run like hell? Depends where i am in the Month. Do one Doreen!!

    So now you’re done, you know you’ve forgotten almost everything you came for but think, Screw it id rather die than go round again! You load your Items on the belt and Turbo Twatting Trace is After an Olympic Gold Medal in food scanning! F*** me! She’s like F**king Robo Cop slinging it all through whilst you slowly and ever so silently have a nervous breakdown inside, and yet another Social Anxiety Attack. Nice one C*** Face Trace!! 🖕🏻🖕🏻

    Never Shop At Aldi You Have Been Warned!!

     

  • Mothercare You Absolute Disgrace It Could Have Been Fatal

    Chloe App has taken to Facebook to warn others of a potential danger to babies.

    App said “Mothercare you absolute DISGRACE you should be ashamed to still keep this baby grow on the shelves that could have been fatal to my 6 month daughter! Luckily I never leave my daughter unattended at anytime I’m so grateful as she wouldn’t be here today as I turned round from washing the dishes to find her purple choking on the attachment shown on this picture in my hand

    It came detached from the baby grow I should make you all aware my daughter was over 6 weeks premature and still doesn’t have a single tooth !!

    Mothercare You Absolute Disgrace It Could Have Been Fatal
    Mothercare You Absolute Disgrace It Could Have Been Fatal

    After returning this item back For investigation I’m advised the baby-grow is fine as cotton was still attached to the detachment and they will stay on the shelves but they will monitor them for more complaints but was happy to refund the buyer (was bought as a gift)

    After asking mothercare to re consider looking into the baby grow today I’ve received my baby grow back

    Thankyou for your appalling response and causing me so much upset and distress I will never purchase items from you ever again

    Parents PLEASE DONT PURCHASE THIS ITEM.

    App has received a lot of feedback on her post but at present Mothercae aren’t taking it to seriously.

    One lady commented saying “So Mothercare are going to wait until lots of babies have choked before taking action, I’m appalled they have responded to you like this Chloe, they are meant to be a store to help mothers and babies not cause potential harm”.

    Others have also stated that they have this baby grow and had no issues what so ever with it and even claimed maybe  it was just through over tumble drying the outfit and making the design weak.

     

  • Why Should I Have To Get A Job?

    Why should I have to get a job?

    I was a happily married stay at home mum raising my three precious children Oliver 8, Joshua 6 and Poppy 3.

    I loved being able to take my eldest two to school and spending time with my little girl, then every day being in the playground to collect my boys.

    I never missed an assembly or sports day, my children could have friends over and I would always have a healthy home cooked meal on the table for when my husband came home.

    I always wanted to be a mum and a housewife, I was very happy.

    However my husband can’t have been happy as he ended up cheating on me and left me for his mistress.

    I was stuck, I had always been financially supported by my husband but now I had to claim benefits.

    But why should I get a job, I didn’t ask for my husband to cheat, I didn’t get pregnant to claim benefits, I have done no wrong!

    The job centre says as my youngest child is 3 I have to look for work, but why?

    How is this fair on my children to have to go without their mum being there for them when ever they need me, to have to miss sports day or get a paid stranger to collect my children from school.

    I do not want a job, I already have one it’s called being a mum.

    How can they expect me to leave my three children with a childminder just because my husband couldn’t keep his promise to love me forever.

    I didn’t do anything wrong yet I am the one who is being made to feel guilty for not wanting a job, but if I do not prove I’m looking for work they will stop our benefits.

    I understand many may not agree with me but I do not care, I set out to be a mum all the time not to miss out on watching them grow.

     

  • Derek Will Not Kill Me I Won’t Let Him

    Derek will not kill me I won’t let him.

    Three months ago I was diagnosed with a Cancerous tumour on my brain.

    My loving husband Philip was sat by my side as the doctor told me, and explained about the treatment I would need, I couldn’t take it all in at the time but have come to terms now that I have a long hard battle ahead.

    On the drive to my parents to collect my children it dawned on me I would have to tell my young children but how, how do you tell your children that you will lose your hair, you will be in pain, you will vomit and you won’t be able to do the things you want to do without help and will ave t spend a lot of time at the hospital.

    Morgan is 6 and Summer 4 both were far too young to understand what Cancer was and I didn’t want them to be scared my husband and I spoke at length at how to tell them and we had a starting plan.

    I made my husband sit them down and he said “mummy has a naughty lump in her head called Derek, but the doctors have a super juice called Betty that will help kick Derek out, but Betty is so powerful that mummy’s hair might fall out, and mummy may get tired or be a little ill but Betty is going to get naughty Derek out”.

    My beautiful young children know that Derek makes mummy ill and will talk to him and tell him to get out.

    I didn’t want to scare my babies and every day they thank Betty for making my hair come out in clumps, Betty is doing her job and my babies understand that when I throwing up or struggle to get out of bed that it’s for a good reason, when mummy is at hospital she’s going to visit her hero little miss Betty.

    Betty will not let Derek kill my babies mum I’m going to fight this every day and it helps so much that my children aren’t scared and don’t quite understand.

    Betty and I are going to kick Dereks arse

     

  • Today’s The Day I Plan To End My Life

    Today’s the day I die.

    Today I plan to end my life, in my eyes I’ve been dead for some time now.

    My mind won’t be quiet and cutting doesn’t ease the pain, I’ve seen a doctor many times and friends have left my side.

    My brain is my own worse enemy making me sad all the time, I wish I didn’t feel this way, I’d do anything to escape.

    My family tell me I have so much going for me and have no reason to feel this way, I need to get on with things and stop being selfish and lazy and leave my house each day.

    But they do not know I didn’t choose this way, depression has a hold of me and I can’t run away.

    Some days I feel oh such pride by getting out of bed and faking my own sweet smile.

    But today’s the day I plan to die for I can’t carry on, I’m sorry for being so miserable and burden you with my pain, I know I am a kill joy and make you feel so down.

    Depression is my killer not my own fair hand, I’m sorry for being ill and that you don’t understand.

    Today is the day I plan to die.

    This was written in my diary 3 years ago at my lowest point I had it all planned out, paid all bills and packed up my home so my family wouldn’t have to.

    But something happened to stop me, a knock on the door a friendly face, one friend who hadn’t forgotten me, who held me as I cried, someone who listened and didn’t try to give me solutions or tell me what to do.

    She sat with me for hours as I wept and held me close to her, we agreed I would get help and took me to a local mental health unit, I still battle my depression it doesn’t just go away, I hope that any one who feels like this gets the help they need.

    If you know someone with depression don’t give up on them, the smallest action can be such a huge thing, if my friend hadn’t stopped by that day I wouldn’t be writing this now.

     

  • Dad, Thank You For Leaving My Young Mum

    Dear Dad, Thank you dad for leaving my young mum, she was 17 when you left her, living at home with her parents my grandparents.

    You said you would always love her, you said you would support her and were so happy to become a dad.

    But you were 18 and still wanted to go out and have fun with your mates, you didn’t want the responsibility of an infant son.

    You split with my young mum, you saw me very rarely and eventually not at all.

    Dad I’m 26 now and have young of my own, thank you for leaving my mum and teaching me all the things a dad shouldn’t be, thank you dad for leaving and making my mum so strong.

    My mum may not have raised such an awesome son and wonderful father had you stayed.

    So thanks again Dad for being a role model in your own special way, your grandchildren have a father who would never leave their side, a father who understands what it is to be a man.

    Thank you Dad for leaving my young mum I’m glad you didn’t get to walk by my side and show me how little you cared, I never got to sit by the door and wonder if you would actually keep to your visit, my mum never had to make excuses for you.

    Dad from a young age I knew you weren’t coming back and for a while I questioned what I had done for you to not want me, but this was never about me this was all about your own selfish wants.

    Dad I am better than you and ultimately it’s because of you.

    I hope you’re reading this and think that I am strong, I do not want to meet you I just want you to know you were oh so wrong and you are the one who missed out.

    Thanks again dad for leaving

    Michael X

  • This is ENGLAND…..We like it the way it is and even more so the way it was

    One mans thoughts and views on being British have gone viral, do you agree with what he has said? Some believe he is a racist for his comments

    “I am the Tory Party’s Worst Nightmare. I am a White, Tax-Paying, God-fearing English man. I am a hard-working Brit and I work long hours to earn a living.

    I believe in God and the freedom of religion, but I don’t push it on others. I believe in British products and buy them whenever I can.

    I believe the money I make belongs to me and not to some governmental functionary, to share with others who don’t work!

    I think owning a home doesn’t make you a capitalist; it makes you a smart Brit. I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything. Get over it. Join in with the majority!

    I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac, you should do it in English. I believe there should be no other language option.

    I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.

    My heroes are fellow Brits like Freddy Flintoff and Winston Churchill and I know I’ve missed a few thousand!!!!!

    I don’t hate the rich. What I hate is the way they always manage to avoid paying proper taxes. I don’t pity the poor, I just hate the way they are always moaning that they are hard done by!!

    I know wrestling is fake and I don’t waste my time watching or arguing about it.

    I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, go back to where you came from and change your own country!

    This is ENGLAND…..We like it the way it is and even more so the way it was…so stop trying to change it to look like some other socialist country! If you were born or legally migrated here and don’t like it… you are free to move to any Socialist country that will have you. I believe it is time to really clean house, starting with the House of Commons, the seat of our biggest problems.

    I want to know where the “Do Gooders” get their money from, and why are they always part of the problem and not the solution?

    Can I get an AMEN on that one?

    I also think the cops have the right to pull you over if you’re breaking the law, regardless of what race, colour or creed you are. And, no, I don’t mind having my face shown on my driving licence. I think it’s good….

    I dislike those people trying to guilt me into making ‘donations’ to their cause….Get a job and support yourself and your family!

    I believe ‘illegal’ is illegal no matter what the lawyers think!

    I believe the Union Jack flag should be allowed to be flown anywhere in the United Kingdom !

    If this makes me a BAD Brit, then yes, I’m a BAD Brit. If you are a BAD Brit too, please forward this to everyone you know….

    We want our country back! My Country…..

    I hope this offends all illegal aliens.

    My great, great-grandfather watched as his friends died in the Boer War. My grandfather watched and bled as his friends died in World Wars 1&2. I watched as my friends died in Sierra Leone Bosnia, & Desert Storm. Our sons and daughters watched & bled as their friends died in Afghanistan and Iraq . None of them died for the Afghanistan and Iraq Flag. Every Briton died for the British flag.

    At one high school, foreign students raised a Middle East flag on a school flag pole. British students took it down. Guess who was expelled…the students who took it down.

    West London high school students were sent home, because they wore T-shirts with the Union Jack flag printed on them.

    What is going on?? What idiots do we have in authority?? Enough is enough.

    This message needs to be viewed by every Brit; and every Briton needs to stand up for Britain . We’ve bent over to appease the Brit-haters long enough. I’m taking a stand.

    I’m standing up because of the millions who died fighting in wars for this country, and for the British flag.

    And shame on anyone who tries to make this a racist message. IT IS NOT !

    Britons, stop giving away Your RIGHTS !

    THIS IS OUR COUNTRY !

    This statement DOES NOT mean I’m against immigration !

    YOU ARE WELCOME HERE, IN MY COUNTRY, welcome to come legally:

    1. Get a sponsor !

    2. Learn the LANGUAGE, as immigrants have in the past!

    3. Live by OUR rules ! Dress as we Britons Do

    4. Get a job !

    5. Pay YOUR Taxes !

    6. No Social Security until you have earned it and paid for it !

    7. Find a place to lay your head !

    If you don’t want to forward this for fear of offending someone, then YOU’RE PART OF THE PROBLEM !

    We’ve gone so far the other way… bent over backwards not to offend anyone.

    WAKE UP BRITAIN ! ! !

    If you do not Pass this on, may your fingers cramp !

    Made in BRITAIN & DAMN PROUD OF IT!!!!!”

    AMEN”

     

  • I Didn’t Feel As If I Deserved To Cry

    “I had to pee so badly but they wouldn’t let me go. They said I needed a full bladder because it’s easier to see the baby during the ultrasound. I remember feeling so frustrated not only because of my full bladder, but because I had to fill out what seemed like 50 pages of paperwork before I could empty my bladder and see the baby I’d been waiting to see for 8 weeks.

    I finally was walked to the back room where I was greeted with a smile from everyone because the happiness from carrying a baby was contagious. The ultrasound began and I saw the images right in front of me. My heart was beating out of my chest. This was exciting!

    This was a day my husband and I had been waiting for, for over a year.

    But these images were different than the ones I’ve seen on Facebook that all my girlfriends had posted, something was wrong.

    I saw nothing because my body was just hours away from miscarrying.

    My ultrasound tech was quiet and I just knew. She left the room and my husband quickly assured me that “everything is fine.” But don’t tell that to a girl who has seen hundreds of ultrasound photos, who has searched Instagram for the hashtag “8weeks” to see what her baby now looked like.

    I knew it wasn’t right and it wasn’t.

    I remember being afraid to cry. I didn’t feel as if I deserved to cry because “I wasn’t that far along,” and “this happens all the time.”

    I remember holding back the tears with every ounce of my being and not being able to look my husband in the face because I knew his pain would break me.

    I was sent home to let my body naturally run its course and it did. I felt everything but had nothing to show for it. My doctor didn’t let me leave without warning and she was right about everything. But what she didn’t warn me about was everything that would happen after the initial heartbreak and pain.

    She didn’t tell me I was going to be reminded for weeks to come because my body was going to take that long to “clean out.” She didn’t tell me I was going to have to watch my husband weep. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going to be to tell my mom what had happened. She didn’t tell me that my body was going to continue thinking it was pregnant for weeks to come. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going be to tell people I was fine when I wasn’t. She didn’t tell me that this was going to make me a jealous person over-night. She didn’t tell me how much harder the question “when are you having kids?” was going to be. And she didn’t tell me that it was going to be so hard losing someone I had never met.

    But she did tell me it was okay to cry and she did tell me that I wasn’t alone.

    Miscarriages are SO real and so common, in fact, one out of four women experience a miscarriage; but don’t let that confuse you into thinking it hurts any less. As large as this statistic is, I still felt alone and I have finally figured out why: because no one talks about it.

    It wasn’t until I started talking about it to my friends and family that I slowly realized I wasn’t alone. That my mom, my aunt, my sister, my sisters best friend all have experienced this heartbreak and pain, a heartbreak and pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.

    People may wonder why I choose to talk about this after months have passed, but it’s the harsh reality that time really doesn’t heal all wounds so I am hoping sharing my story will help with the healing process. I am not looking for pity and I am not looking for answers. I am sharing this so that maybe one less woman will feel alone and use this as a reminder or message that there is hope after this heartbreak.

    This is my hope for you…

    I hope that you won’t feel alone.

    I hope that you let yourself cry.

    I hope that you will see the light at the end of the tunnel.

    I hope that though your faith will be tested, you will be strong.

    I hope you find peace.

    I hope you won’t be afraid to try again.

    I hope that you don’t blame yourself.

    I hope that your friends hug you a little tighter.

    I hope that you give someone else hope through your hardship

    I hope that you are a light in the darkest of time.

    …and I hope that you celebrate that baby’s life as much as you celebrate the next because no matter how short a life, all life deserves to be celebrated and all loss should be mourned.

    Feel free to share if this spoke to you or you feel as if it might speak to someone you know.”

    Credit: Emily Christine

     

  • Why Is My Black Son Being Placed On The Front Line?

    Tania Benards post this week on Facebook has a lot pf people talking and we can see why!

    Bernard said: My 5th grader Dez (uk year 6) and I were conversing on the way to work/school this morning. As an educator, I wanted to be sure he and his classmates were taking the school safety drills seriously and not using it as a time to socialize and goof off.

    Me: Have you guys practiced a lockdown drill in class yet?

    Dez: Are you talking about an active shooter drill?

    Me: Yes

    Dez: Yes, we practiced it

    Me: So tell me what you are supposed to do.

    Dez: The teacher is supposed to shut and lock the door, put the black paper over the window on the door.

    Then myself and three other boys are suppose to push the table against the door.

    After that all the class is going to stand behind us on the back wall.

    Me: The class is suppose to stand behind who?

    Dez: Me and the other 3 boys. We stand at the front and they get behind us.

    *I internally went from 0 to 100 real quick. My child is one of only 2 black children in a class of 23. Being transparent, I immediately went to the “why is my black son being put on the front line?” (Just being real) So I asked before I verbally stated my thoughts*

    Me: Why did you get picked to stand in front of everyone else if a shooter came in your school?

    Dez: I didn’t get picked. I volunteered to push the table and protect my friends

    Me: 😯*immediate nausea * Dez why would you volunteer to do that?

    Dez: If it came down to it I would rather be the one that died protecting my friends then have an entire class die and I be the only one that lived

    Father God, it took everything out of me not to breakdown. I still have a lump in my throat. 10 damn years old and this has to be our babies thought process in America.

     

  • A C-Section? So You Didn’t Actually Give Birth

    A lady named Raye Lee took to Facebook to express her feelings and the post has since gone viral

    Lee said: “Oh. A c-section? So you didn’t actually give birth. It must have been nice to take the easy way out like that.”

    Ah, yes. My emergency c-section was absolutely a matter of convenience. It was really convenient to be in labour for 38 hours before my baby went into distress and then every contraction was literally STOPPING his HEART.

    Being told at the beginning that I was displaying great progress and wouldn’t need a cesarean section… and then being told that I was being prepped for major abdominal surgery was not a shock at all. It had nothing to do with the fact that I physically couldn’t because I was given no other choice to save the life of my child. Oh, and that surgery is super easy peasy to recover from.

    WRONG, That is all sarcasm.

    This was the most painful thing I have experienced in my life.

    I now belong to a badass tribe of mamas with the scar to prove that I had a baby cut out of me and lived to tell the tale.

    ( because you can die from this, you know. )

    Having a shrieking infant pulled out of an incision that is only 5 inches long, but is cut and shredded and pulled until it rips apart through all of your layers of fat, muscle, and organs (which they lay on the table next to your body, in order to continue to cut until they reach your child) is a completely different experience than I had imagined my son’s birth to be.

    This was not pleasant. It still isn’t.

    You use your core muscles for literally everything… even sitting down, imagine not being able to use them because they have literally been shredded and mangled by a doctor and not being able to repair them for 6+ weeks because your body has to do it naturally.

    When that first nurse asked you to try getting out of bed and the ripping pain of a body cut apart and stitched back together seared through you, you realized the irony of anybody who talks about it being the “easy way out”. So fuck you and fuck how you see what I did.

    I am the strongest woman, that I know. Not only for myself, but for my beautiful son… and I would honestly go through this every single day just to make sure I am able to see his smiling face.