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@kareneng1xoxo5
#fyp #explore #blonde #trending #momsoftiktok #repost #dress #heels #ootd #viral
♬ оригинальный звук – sanchos 👼🏻
https://www.tiktok.com/@kareneng1xoxo5/video/7487603724567760158
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Tiktok by kareneng3xoxo


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@samanthaelle.x
The ending 🥹🥹 Ive been breastfeeding for 3 1/2 years and this style is by far my favourite! I usually just whip a tidday out but i love how descteet this dress is 🤌🏼🌸 I got it from @Liv || Rumi & Sol 🤱 #mum #mom #fashion #style #dress #breastfeeding
♬ Back on 74 – Stan 🙂
https://www.tiktok.com/@samanthaelle.x/video/7369365897682685185
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Tiktok by SAM 🌸 mum life & style
If anyone has ordered these dresses from TU Sainsburys, you might have a shock when you wash them!
I washed at 40 like the label says, I even added a colour catcher sheet to be on the safe side, all my daughters dresses went pink (see photo in comments).
Sainsburys refunded me, I ordered them again thinking they might just be a bad batch. Washed at 40, and added 3x colour catcher sheets, they still went pink.

Just wanted to warn you, then they don’t ruin all your kids uniform, as I know not everyone pre-washes clothes.
“I am 2. I am not terrible or naughty …I am frustrated. I am nervous, stressed out, overwhelmed, and confused. I need a hug.”
From the diary of a 2-year-old:
Today I woke up and wanted to get dressed by myself but was told “No, we don’t have time, let me do it.”
This made me sad.
I wanted to feed myself for breakfast but was told,
“No, you’re too messy, let me do it for you.”
This made me feel frustrated.
I wanted to walk to the car and get in on my own but was told, “No, we need to get going, we don’t have time. Let me do it.”
This made me cry.
I wanted to get out of the car on my own but was told “No, we don’t have time, let me do it.”
This made me want to run away.
Later I wanted to play with blocks but was told “no, not like that, like this…”
I decided I didn’t want to play with blocks anymore. I wanted to play with a doll that someone else had, so I took it. I was told “No, don’t do that! You have to share.”
I’m not sure what I did, but it made me sad. So I cried. I wanted a hug but was told “No, you’re fine, go play”.
I’m being told it’s time to pick up. I know this because someone keeps saying, “Go pick up your toys.”
I am not sure what to do, I am waiting for someone to show me.
“What are you doing? Why are you just standing there? Pick up your toys, now!”
I was not allowed to dress myself or move my own body to get to where I needed to go, but now I am being asked to pick things up.
I’m not sure what to do. Is someone supposed to show me how to do this? Where do I start? Where do these things go? I am hearing a lot of words but I do not understand what is being asked of me. I am scared and do not move.
I lay down on the floor and cry.
When it was time to eat I wanted to get my own food but was told “no, you’re too little. Let me do it.”
This made me feel small. I tried to eat the food in front of me but I did not put it there and someone keeps saying “Here, try this, eat this…” and putting things in my face.
I didn’t want to eat anymore. This made me want to throw things and cry.
I can’t get down from the table because no one will let me…because I’m too small and I can’t. They keep saying I have to take a bite. This makes me cry more. I’m hungry and frustrated and sad. I’m tired and I need someone to hold me. I do not feel safe or in control. This makes me scared. I cry even more.
I am 2. No one will let me dress myself, no one will let me move my own body where it needs to go, no one will let me attend to my own needs.
However, I am expected to know how to share, “listen”, or “wait a minute”. I am expected to know what to say and how to act or handle my emotions. I am expected to sit still or know that if I throw something it might break….But, I do NOT know these things.
I am not allowed to practice my skills of walking, pushing, pulling, zipping, buttoning, pouring, serving, climbing, running, throwing or doing things that I know I can do. Things that interest me and make me curious, these are the things I am NOT allowed to do.
I am 2. I am not terrible…I am frustrated. I am nervous, stressed out, overwhelmed, and confused. I need a hug.
-Author unknown
Let’s address this not-so-problematic problem that keeps popping up here and there then, shall we?
Buckle up, folks, because this is going to be a long one.
Now… I consider myself a good parent I suppose – I love my children, I cook healthy meals, I clean, I educate them, I encourage them to help around the house, I make sure they know right from wrong, that they’re polite, kind and are thoughtful of other people around them.
I’ve also taught them that they can be whoever they want to be because I will love them no matter what… which is how any parent should feel, correct?
Incorrect. (Apparently)
I once (well, maybe a few times) allowed my son to dress up in pink and leave the house because he loved the colour and it made him feel good. In turn, that made me feel good that he was comfortable and happy expressing himself around me, and more importantly, he was totally okay with being himself around other people because, you know, that’s what we constantly preach to others, right?
Wrong. (Apparently)
As true as I’m writing this now, I got a truck load of shit for it and I couldn’t understand why.
“Why are you dressing him up as a girl?! You have a daughter to dress up!”
“Do you want him to grow up being confused?”
“People are going to make fun of him! You’re sick!”
Can we just get one thing straight, here?
The people and parents who behave this way are the ones damaging our children psychologically, not us.
I know this because I’ve been there.
My father wanted me to do ballet, I played football. I had to be quiet in his presence, I wasn’t allowed to express myself through fear of him being embarrassed or being punished for it.
I was bullied for most of my life because I had no voice; I didn’t know who I was then and I still don’t now… because someone I looked up to told me to keep my mouth shut because of what others would think.
I developed a personality disorder, Body Dysmorphic Disorder and an eating disorder because I had to be someone I wasn’t.
I was a pressure cooker waiting to explode and I’m now a product of everything my father hates which has a strain on our relationship and any other relationship I’ve ever had.
I’m ‘damaged’ so to speak.
So, back to where I was – I couldn’t give a flying fuck what my children want to leave the house as to be honest, because if they’re HAPPY then that’s all that matters.
My son has his nails painted, he wears makeup sometimes and pushes a pushchair around if he feels like it, because, actually, one day he may be a father.
You wouldn’t laugh then, would you?
He was invited to an Elves and Fairies party recently and guess what he wanted to go as?
A fairy.
Would he look at another child and laugh for how they’re expressing themselves? Absolutely not – he’d join in because I’ve taught him that we all express ourselves in different ways and that there is no right or wrong in how we dress, what we wear or what we’d like to be when we grow up because it’s how we treat people that reallycounts.
My son asked for two birthday parties this year – one where he could be himself and one where he had to pretend to be someone else because he knew other people wouldn’t ‘approve’.
I was gutted for him.
All he wanted was to have a good time – he shouldn’t be having to lie and make such grown up decisions at such a young age, just because one person had told him that “boys don’t behave that way”.
For as long as he’s with me, he can be whoever the fuck he wants and that’s not going to change. He knows that, my daughter knows that and I’ll take on anybody who disagrees.
So, to the parents who teach their children to laugh at other children, to encourage racism, hatred and snigger at others… FUCK YOU.
YOU are what’s wrong with the world.
Children don’t know hate, racism or mocking someone for being ‘different’ unless we tell them and I refuse to enforce that upon my children just because the majority of the population are uncomfortable with being different.
I know how this affects children because I was one of them – I’m sure as fucking hell never going to put my child through that.
Why would anybody want to?
Encourage your children to be different, be their number one fan, cheer them on, even if it makes you feel slightly uncomfortable because they need you to be there for them emotionally.
You are all they have and if they don’t have you, who do they have?
The Unicorn in Black
Please following the amazing writer at The unicorn in black https://m.facebook.com/theunicorninblack/


