If anybody has ever wondered what defeat looks like, here it is folks. This is the look of a single mom during a pandemic. The look of a single mom who hasn’t left the house except for a grocery order pickup since they called NB to be in a State of Emergency. A grocery order which had 100$ worth of items that wasn’t available, but that I still needed even though it wasn’t available.

The look of a single mom who decided to pack up the children to go to Costco to pick up a prescription and to hopefully get the rest of the things I needed to be able to stay home for a few weeks at least. Because my options are a) get a babysitter which I’m not allowed to do b) leave the kids home alone which I’m not allowed to do or c) get someone to pickup my stuff which by the way equalled 300$. So this is the look of a single mom who was rudely told by not 1, not 2, but 3 Costco employees that it is the last time I will be able to bring in my children, and overheard 2 employees rudely point at me and say “yeah are we putting up signs about children because clearly they’re not gonna listen until we do”.

Most employees were amazing, smiling and friendly, but I’m guessing à few stressed ones took it out on me. You’re looking at the face of a single mom who can’t ship their kids off to their dads and have a break. A single mom who’s been trying to follow the rules, who has been trying my best at working from home with an 8 year old and a 4 year old who fight and scream and need to eat and are bored just like every other kid. And the look of a single mom who came out of Costco with tears streaming down her face to hear that I will now have to add homeschooling to the mix.

So maybe I shouldn’t have taken my kids out today. But when emotions are already high, today broke me. To add salt to the wound, I’ve got 2 children who have been apologizing for an hour because they think they’re a burden. Read that again. And then please, do what you can to stop this pandemic. Because I will need more things in 2 weeks, and 2 weeks after that… That is just my story. We all have our struggles. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m just saying, please have compassion instead of being so quick to judge, please do your part to flatten the curve and please check on the people around you. Most of us are not ok.

Edit : the response to this has been overwhelming! I don’t know what made me post this, defeat I guess, but I never in a million years expected this to hit home with so many people! I want to thank each and every one of you who took the time to send me a message. Not exaggerating, I get an average of 60 messages every hour. Every single one of them from someone offering help, offering encouragement and so many single parents who can relate and who are struggling so much! I’m trying to reply to everyone and I intend to… But it is taking much longer than I imagined. So just know that each time someone reaches out, it touches my heart more than I can explain. There are a lot of amazing people in this world! We are all in this together ❤️❤️❤️ Remember to check on your neighbors, your friends, your family – this has been an eye opener for me and I will be returning the kindness I’ve received, I can promise you that!

Credit https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=561425703

“This is not what you had planned. This is not what you’d envisioned. There are no visits from friends, no loving doula bringing you soup, no “mommy and me” yoga classes, no coffee dates, no stroller walks through the park. There is empty space where you had planned comfort and company. There are long days with no one but your little one to talk to and this big transition to navigate all alone.

I know it’s lonely, mama. I know the walls of your house feel tight and the days feel so long, and you crave a warm hand on your knee and the soft embrace of a friend. You wish for someone by your side to marvel at this beautiful baby of yours and to wrap an arm around you when the feelings get too big and scary.

We were never meant to do this alone. Motherhood has never been a solitary sport. And yet here we are, in this odd chapter of isolation and distance, with no choice but to do it by ourselves.

But mama, know this- We are alone. Together. You are surrounded all the other mothers who are navigating this tender time in isolation. You are held by all of us who have walked the path before you and who know how much you must be hurting. You are wrapped in the warm embrace of mama earth, as she too settles into this time of slowness and healing.

This too shall pass. And when it does, hugs and coffee dates and visits from friends will taste so much sweeter. Soft kisses on your cheek and arms around your waist and gentle laughter in your ear will be the joyful medicine after this trying time.

Until then, hunker down mama. Find the coziest, warmest spot on your couch, sink into the pile of unfolded laundry, and sleep the Spring away, with that sweet babe warm on your chest.”

You are not alone mama.

Words by the stunning Spirit Y Sol

Childless lockdown Vs lockdown with kids.

Without kids: My house has never been this spotlessly clean and tidy. My cupboards are organised & labelled.

With kids: What the fuck is that on the bath? Pick up the Lego before someone stands on it. I know there’s a tin of beans in here somewhere. Who wrote on the fucking wall? When this is over the carpets need a deep clean.

Without kids: I might have a nap.

With kids: What time is it socially acceptable to force the kids down for a nap so I can have a brew in peace?

Without kids: Conference call- “yes, I read the agenda & have the following well-considered points to raise..”

With Kids: Conference call- “one second” (hissing under your breath) “I don’t fucking know. No. No. Yes. Have some fruit” “Sorry guys I’m back”

Without kids: Shall we start a new box set?

With kids: Shall we try a different channel? Haven’t we had enough Peppa Pig today?

Without kids: I’m going to try a new recipe for dinner.

With kids: Picnic? Nuggets? Fish fingers? Beans?

Without kids: Shall we go for our daily walk?

With kids: Shit, it’s raining.

Without kids: It’s 5pm, shall we pour a wine?

With Kids: It’s 5pm, we are running out of tonic, shall we switch to beer?

Without kids: Oh that was a lovely hour of pampering. I did myself a facial with all of my products, I’ve washed my hair, put on clean loungewear, changed the bedding, shaved my legs & even painted my nails.

With kids: I managed to wash my face and fanny on my own today- treat. Shit, running out of dry shampoo. How long have I been wearing these pjs? That’s a fresh yoghurt stain, they’ll do for another day.

Without kids: Gosh it’s quiet in here, I’m so bored.

With kids: STOP SHOUTING! CALM DOWN!! JESUS IM SICK OF THE SOUND OF MY OWN VOICE SHOUTING THE SAME THINGS OVER AND OVER AGAIN! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME! I DONT KNOW WHERE IT IS! IM HAVING A POO, FFS LEAVE ME ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!

lockdownwithkids #quarantined #survival #jealous #donttakeitforgranted

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL.

Her name was Emily Jones from Bolton. She was only 7 years old.

On March 22nd, young Emily was violently stabbed in the neck and murdered in broad daylight as she rode her scooter past a park bench on Mother’s Day. Her father was walking not far behind and witnessed the horrific attack on his young daughter at the hands of a monster.

The barbaric case received minimal coverage and ultimately, the mainstream media buried this story. More specifically, they buried the full details of it. Why? Is it perhaps because Emily’s female killer is a 30-year-old Somali immigrant – currently being ‘held in a mental health facility?’

The inquest into this young girl’s death has now been postponed until July. (Haven’t they heard of technology?) Where are the condemnations and questions from politicians? Don’t Emily’s parents deserve some justice now?

On our screens, we are often presented with tributes to the lives of “promising” young “musicians” & “footballers” caught up in gang violence. We hear of every death related to or attributed to this current virus in an avalanche of daily news.

What about this gruesome murder of this little girl? Her story and its details need to be shared; not partly, briefly mentioned then swept away under the daily virus bulletins. RIP.

I’ve just seen this on a lockdown page and cried laughing. By the time she gets to the bit about the cat I could hardly breathe 😂😂

So it’s day 9 of this social distancing thing, I think it’s day 9, I’m not entirely sure, it could be fucking Thursday the 30th of fucking never for all I know

What I do know is I didn’t put the clock in the lounge forward an hour so I’ve been living in the past all fucking day. On the flip side of that it was an hour less I had to endure with every fucking bastard in this house.

At the start of this semi lock down him indoors occupied himself with jobs around the house he’d been threatening to do since we moved in 15 months ago so I didn’t see much of him, now he’s ran out of masonry paint and enthusiasm he’s wondering around pissing me off.

He’s 46, 47 in July, we’re meant to be going to amsterdam. The way things are going we’ll be lucky to go out in the back garden.

He calls me this morning, I ignore him. I’ve been shut down with him for over a week and the sound of his fucking voice gives me a forest Whitaker eye.

I ignore him for as long as I can, which isn’t very long considering we’re confined to these four fucking walls

Me: WHAT FOR FUCK SAKE??!!!!

Him: I saw on Facebook how to make a face mask from things laying around the house. Look

Me: groans and turns around he’s fucking stood there with a pair of his green boxers turned into a balaclava like an obese raphael.

Me:

Him: I can wear this when I go out

Me: go out? You’ve not been further than the shed for 9 fucking days, I’m the one that risks my life going to get the bread. Bone idle fuck

Him: do you want it then?

I ignore the prick and walk back into the kitchen for something else to fucking eat. I need to try social distancing from the fucking cupboards, I swear to god I heard the cupboard say ” what the fuck do you want now you massive fat twat” when I stuck my head in looking for another time out wafer. Probably a good thing that I can’t go anywhere because fuck all fits me and I can’t bend over without nearly passing out. I’m going to have to walk sideways through my doors if this carries on

Him indoors suggested a weight bench and may be jogging, I suggested he best fuck off as I’m sent out for a fucking French stick to fill with sausages and bacon for him in the fucking dark and I swear I heard the purge alarm.

I come back with a French stick another 4 pints of fucking milk and 6 eggs, eggs are more expensive than gold and my local shop sold me 6 loose ones and didn’t give me a bag, I had to put them on the passenger seat and drive slowly as I could all the way home.

I get back and go and tell him indoors I need him to come and get the French stick.

He rolled his eyes

He rolled his fucking eyes at me

There was an exchange of foul language and me telling him exactly what he can do with this French fucking stick

The was another barrage of foul language and I smashed him over the head with the French stick

It snapped in half

He picked up the other end and hit me with it

BASTARD

We’re out in the dark like an overweight punch and Judy, jousting with bread

I still wasn’t speaking to him this morning

I’m just sat on the sofa minding my own business whilst he’s in the bath, he’s not in there long enough and I can hear him coming back down

I put back on my resting bitch face

He comes bursting onto the lounge

Naked

A piece of what looks like one of my towels tied around his head and starts river dancing on the rug like stavros flatley

I’m glaring at him whilst he’s doing the truffle shuffle

He steps on the cat!!

It’s fucking chaos

He’s still on the cat

I heard the air leave it like a deflating balloon

He’s stepped back onto a paw patrol pick up truck and a spider man a little

He’s falling

He’s 22 stone

It’s like a felled tree

The cats wrapped around his ankle

Hissing with what breath it has left

Fuck me

Fuck!! The cat

He’s hit the fucking deck

The fucking whole house shook

It would have measure 6.9 on the Richter scale

I’ve scooped the cat up and checked it over

He’s laid on the rug like a wounded goliath

Him: my arm!! My fucking elbow!! You’re gonna have to help me up!!

Me: help you up? Are you mad? I’ll have to keep you warm til the fire brigade get here. Just get up you wanker. Heave yourself up with your good arm.

Him: I think I’ve broken my arm

Me: wrap ya pants around your head and go to minor injuries then.

He didn’t bother going. Probably come out with something worse than a sprained elbow anyway.

Like a little beacon of hope Gillian messages me to say she’s made some cup cakes using a new recipe, chocolate sponge injected with caramel.

My fat chubby mouth is watering at the thought so I tell her I’ll be five minutes and to leave them in the porch

I pick up the tray and walk back. I actually take a bite out of one because I’m greedy as fuck

I walk up my drive

The wind blows and blows each on onto the fucking stones

They’re covered in stones, ash and debris

I’m on my knees trying to save them, save one at least

I’m devastated

The fucking crows are circling like they know a fat fuck has dropped cake

I think about shooing them but remember when my daughter told me about crows that remember when people have been mean to them.

Apparently an experiment was carried out once when a man was mean to a crow and when ever he went out the crowd would chase him to try and peck him and got their mates to join in, one day he wore a mask, they didn’t recognise him so left him alone. The day he took his mask off, there they were ready to pounce.

She clearly had too much time on her hands

Fuck it. I’m locked down for how ever long and the last thing I want are crows shitting all over my clean drying sheets or packing out my fucking eyes they can have the fucking cake.

I go back into the prison, I mean my house to be greeted by the strongest smell of shit and utter carnage

Me: what the fuck?!

Them: the toddler told us he needed to poop and because you weren’t here for 30 seconds he wouldn’t let us put him on the toilet

Me: so what’s happened?

Them: points at toddler

His jogging bottoms are like bloomers and every time he walks a turd falls out.

This is my first week of quarantine

I’m a fat fucking wreck

Never give birth to anything

Credit https://www.facebook.com/Beth.Donelon

Something if you’re bored
500g plain flour
250g salt
250 ml water
Mix into a dough
Roll out then press handprints
Bake in oven on lowest temp for 3-4 hours
Paint then varnish to seal 👌🏽

Credit https://www.facebook.com/alana.reilly.77