1st Birthday Blunders – The difference between being Martha and being Mary …

On 31st July 2015, my little bundle of joy was born … and it has officially been almost 13 months since then!



Sunday 31st July 2016 marked one year since Phoenix first saw the light in the world – and obviously, as his mother, I wanted to do something incredibly special to commemorate that. Therefore, what better way to do that than to have a party surrounded by his family and friends!


For me, this birthday party turned out to be an absolute shambles.

Here’s the reasons why …


A few months before Phoenix’s birthday, I stupidly broke my ankle while trying to get into my house after being locked out. It wasn’t just simply a matter of putting on a cast and bob’s your uncle – it was SO bad I had to get surgery to get metal plates and screws put in place as I had destroyed my ankle to the point where it wouldn’t be able to heal on its own. (Let’s just say if I was a horse – I’d be dead)



This meant that I had to move back in with my dad in Cookstown for them few months while I recovered. His apartment is all on one floor which meant I never needed to climb any stairs … stairs were not my friend at that point.


Therefore, THIS meant that I had to organise everything long distance for Phoenix’s party while stuck in a recliner hopping around on one leg – which is fine because of the wonders on the internet, but it also comes with many problems.


This is where the miscommunication set in. I had initially told my family that his party was on Sunday 31st at 2pm in our house in Belfast. A while afterwards I found out that Phoenix’s granny booked Saturday 30th of work instead – which is absolutely totally fine! There’s still time to change the date at this point so why not have the party on Saturday instead. The party was then organised for Saturday 30th July at 2pm at our house in Belfast.


All seemed well until the day of the party.


My father and my sister both agreed to come up to the house earlier that day to help clean up the house as at that point, we didn’t have a working hoover or a selection of cleaning supplies. My father however ended up with a pain in his leg (which he still has bless him) so they almost didn’t make it up – they did, but later than intended.


This wouldn’t have been a problem initially – but then it became a problem. The problem was that I told my family to come at 2pm. Luke told his family 12pm. I literally crumbled inside, almost burst into tears and had a heart attack all at once. 2 hours were stripped away from the schedule in my head and I physically couldn’t pull the time away from anywhere else. This meant that Luke’s side of the family arrived way earlier than I anticipated – and we ended up cleaning and hoovering and all sorts WHILE they were there to enjoy a one year old’s birthday party – it then gave a bad impression of my family and made us appear to be super rude (which was not the intention AT all!)


Now I know this doesn’t sound like an appropriate excuse. I should have got up earlier or cleaned the night before – organised my time better. However, when I got up at 7am the morning of the party, I was running around while my leg was still in bad shape which made it very sore to walk on ALL day, Phoenix decided that particular day was a good day to be a wee shit and not sit still for two minutes and try his hand at accomplishing everything that he wasn’t allowed to do and I was doing everything on my own while Luke was happily asleep and blissfully unaware upstairs – I literally felt like I was about to explode and implode all at once.



This is why when everyone arrived both later and far earlier than expected I just wanted to cry – I don’t think I’d ever been so stressed. I also felt like a really bad hostess as I had to do all these other things and not socialise and catch up with them – leaving them to their own devices.


Why was I so obsessed with having a clean house you may ask? Well – this would be the very first time that  my family and Luke’s family had ever been in our house. This would also be the very first time that they all met each other. I was literally a nervous ball of 20 million emotions … and I was far more worried about my own family if I’m being completely honest (which I shouldn’t have been … but I know how they can be sometimes).


I think things went okay in that department but I know I’ll never know for sure.


At least we had bought the food the night before – surely there’d be no problem there.


I had the food but not necessarily the devices needed to prepare said food.


Due to me running around like a headless chicken – my sister and one of my best friends ended up preparing the food for me. I had normal butter knives for the sandwiches but no actual bread knife so they looked rough around the edges. I only had one baking tray for all the hot items. I didn’t have a proper knife to cut the cake – actually, Phoenix fell asleep before we had time for cake and presents so only a select few were able to actually have any cake in the end. People kept asking me if I had this or that or this other thing – and when I said I didn’t have it I felt like shit. I felt like I was insufficient to have this bloody party in the first place.


(Now you all know how broke I am financially too … lol )


At least the cake turned out nice … 🙂



Then BOTH my phone AND Luke’s phone died and due to us being so busy we never found the time to put either phone on a charger – hence why pretty much ALL of Luke’s friends who were invited ended up not coming due to no form of communication (or they simply just didn’t bother coming).


I had also pre-made and pre-wrote thank you cards for all the guests who did come to Phoenix’s party ( I wouldn’t have had the time to write them afterwards.)


Again, at least they turned out fine (apart from being cut of at the edges – but I blame FreePrints for that) 🙂



I ended up having quite a few spares as I either forgot to give them to certain people or said people never came. On one card in particular, I had written how the cake was really yummy, and I was thanking the cake maker for baking the cake in the first place. Cake maker however couldn’t stay to see the cake be eaten so when he read that, he made a snide remark about it – which again, I didn’t show it but it did upset me that such a big deal was made from it – I didn’t predict that Phoenix would have collapsed from exhaustion before anyone could have any cake, I was merely trying to be polite (and for the record, the cake was yummy~).


I was also given grief about the parts of high chair lying around the kitchen – but that’s a whole other story.


Before the party, I also had created a pinterest board filled with ideas for the party. I had all sorts of decor and balloons and everything planned. I ordered helium from Amazon to blow up some balloons I had bought … never arrived. I ended up having Phoenix’s cousins help me blow up the normal balloons because I’m an idiot who can’t blow up balloons herself. I wanted to make a DVD slideshow showing pictures of phoenix growing up on our TV …. didn’t happen. I also wanted to make an actual video on the day of the party and make a cute wee birthday video for Phoenix … didn’t happen. I had bought photo booth props for some fun funky photos … didn’t happen – the list goes on.


As I said – complete and utter shambles.


Now I’ve had a lot of time to reflect since then – I’ve never been so stressed. When the day was over I just wanted to curl up in my bed and sob as I was exhausted from the stress and emotions from the day. I don’t know why I let it get to me so much. There’s just something about ‘firsts’. I think it’s because you know that there will always and only be one ‘first’ in everybody’s life and you want to make that ‘first’ as amazing and special as possible.


This is where Mary and Martha come in. In the tale as told in the Bible, Mary and Martha were sisters who were hosting a party that Jesus was attending. Martha was the one preparing the food, cleaning the house and being hospitable while her sister Mary just sat around, listening to what Jesus had to say. Martha grew frustrated to the point where she confronted Jesus and asked him why he wasn’t reprimanding her sister for not helping her with the party. He merely replied that he would have preferred if Martha had followed in Mary’s footsteps, took a chill pill and just sat and enjoyed the company and the craic.


I have since realised that I was incredibly disappointed not on Phoenix’s behalf, but on my own behalf. My emotions from the day came from a very selfish place. The party didn’t come up to my expectations and I handled that situation behind closed doors like a spoiled child. In this case, I was very much Martha.


Phoenix however appeared to have a ball! He obviously never had a birthday or a party before – therefore he would have seen things through completely fresh eyes. Everyone that loved him and vice versa were there and they made that known to him. He had cake for the first time. He got loads of lovely gifts and cards and well wishes. At the end of the day, it is not the material things that make a day special – but rather who the day is shared with. In that regard, the party couldn’t have been any more of a success.

(In this case – I really should have been the ‘Mary’ in the situation … I mean, look at that smile! That is truly all that matters in this world. :D)



If anyone was there specifically to judge though – well, they obviously weren’t there for the right reasons then, were they?



Thank you all so much for reading my blog! I apologize for the lack of updates … after everything that’s been going on for the past few months, life has been pretty hectic! Hopefully now that I’m walking again and Phoenix is up to a LOT more mischief, I’ll have lots more to update you about! Take care and have a lovely day! 🙂

Cathy~ xx

Halfway There …

So, this little rascal turned 6 months on 31st January! He’s officially half a year old … and what a journey it’s been! 😀


In this wee blog post, I decided to tell you all the things I’ve learnt so far in my 6 months of parenting … and trust me, there’s a lot to learn!

  • The name ‘Phoenix’ will get either one of two reactions.The first one is the ‘oh my gosh I love that name’ reaction – and it’ll go something like this …

    “Wow! That’s so cool … he has the most awesome name ever!”

    The other reaction is where the person in question doesn’t actually ‘like’ the name but at the same time they don’t want to offend you (this is usually from the – umm – ‘older’ generation) … and it goes something like this …

    “Oh … wow! That’s – uhh – different!”

    I personally find it rather amusing … sometimes I think I might as well have called him Mohammad or something! 😛


  • People (sometimes without knowing it) will look at your left hand automatically to find the ring. 

    This is due to the fact that only people who are married can have babies, am I right? (It’s the unwritten law)

    I even had a women ask me ‘Is he yours?’ when she didn’t see a ring … it made me laugh!


  • Babies cost money … lots and lots of money.(and if you have a father that’s involved in his life and works full time … HAHAHA good luck trying to get help with that.)


  • Puke, Poop, getting Peed on and Slabber don’t faze me anymore … because of reasons.


  • Following on from that – it’s amazing how much more awkward it is to change a little boys bottom … I know they need their bits and bobs later in life but seriously! They just get in the way when you’re trying to de-poop-atise them! (lol)


  • Baby shoes are the most useless thing on this earth (due to being kicked off after about 10 seconds) … but they are ridiculously cute!


  • Laundry day is every day (especially for bibs) … did I mention this little tyke hates bibs?


  • Following on from that … your house will never be tidy ever again.


  • I’m apparently very lucky to have a baby that sleeps all night – and to be fair I am very grateful for that.


  • Baby nails grow back WAY too fast … and when they scratch – it HURTS!


  • Teething will be an absolute pain in the backside for both mummy and baby … but just trudge on through it. You’ll be fine~ 🙂


  • A doe-dee (otherwise known as a pacifier) is a mums best friend when teething begins! (Calpol and Calgel are also great assets)


  • Music and Youtube are also great friends of yours! Babies LOVE music … keeps them occupied for hours … 😀


  • Prams can be a bloody nightmare! (especially when the front wheel only works when you’re outside … most of the time)


  • Car seats are HEAVY once a baby is inside … and carrying that thing is a nightmare at times!


  • Supernanny is a great show to get tips and tricks of the trade from! (Not that wee P is that bad a child yet~ 😉 )


  • When someone does anything to harm your child in anyway (intentionally or unintentionally) – you become a whole new person. Seriously … you don’t wanna mess with that mama!


  • You gain a new appreciation for your own parents – and definitely a lot more respect! (Trust me – listen to what they have to say. More likely than not, they know better than you do … and they’ve been through it all before.)


  • Following on from that … if your parents/relatives live next door to you or close by … be grateful! Very grateful! This makes finding babysitters a LOT easier!


  • You can’t forget about your partner/baby’s father! I know this sounds strange … I mean, how is it possible to actually forget him!Well … as a mother you have to put so much time and energy into raising your child, and sometimes it comes to the point where your other half (and sometimes your better half) literally feels left out in a way because your attention is usually 90% dedicated to your child.

    I was told recently that my partner missed the ‘girlfriend’ part of me because the ‘mum’ part of me always has to take over … and that made me a wee bit sad. :’)

    Don’t forget, married or not, you are a couple having to work on a relationship together. You are both two individuals and you are both more than just ‘parents’. Sometimes you both just need a wee reminder of why you decided to get together in the first place and find that love again (don’t get me wrong, the ‘love’ is always there … you just need to give yourself a kick up the arse sometimes and remember it’s there) … ALSO, don’t forget to SHOW that person you love them! It’s a two way street this ‘relationship thing’.

    Treat yourselves to a ‘date night’ every now and then … enjoy yourselves and each others company! Trust me – if you’ve got this far, you both deserve it.

    This is something I have to remind myself everyday~


  • Everyday is precious. Babies grow in every way ridiculously fast – literally in a blink of an eye!Treasure those moments! Take loads of photos and videos and keep them safe! They only stay little for a little while … ❤


(I’ve probably forgot a few … but oh well~ :P)

Thanks for reading this blog post! My last one was pretty rambly (long story short, I was pissed :P) … but I hope you enjoyed reading this and I know a lot of you will hopefully relate to this one!

Stay tuned for the next instalment! Hopefully the wait won’t be as long! 


Boy mummy, that escalated quickly!


I feel like this is the perfect meme/GIF for the situation I am about to describe to you. Have you ever been in one of those situations where you come across a person/people and you literally wish you had superpowers so you could just blow their heads off and blast them into smithereens? … I’ve recently experienced this … so let me tell you a story. This is a story about the pure and utter lack of compassion, selfishness to it’s very core and the moment when I truly discovered what true deep hatred feels like … and trust me, it’s a very dark feeling. This is why I need to share this story so I don’t boil over and end up in jail someday.

(This is all based on true events that literally happened in the space of the last few days … Obviously the names have been changed.)

Once upon a time, there was a couple called Jack and Sally. Jack and Sally recently had a baby son called Dominic who was their absolute pride and joy.


They were living in a house in the city known Fast-Taco-Bel, however, the house became too expensive for Jack and Sally to keep up. Jack was the only one working. Sally was a stay-at-home-mum. Jack recently got a new job – which resulted in more pay, however the pay came weekly instead of monthly. Therefore they needed a cheaper house to live in. (Did I also mention that the tenancy for this house was ending at the end of this month anyway?)

Therefore, surely moving house shouldn’t have been a problem, right? Alas! Our first antagonist is afoot … Jack and Sally’s landlord was known as Ebeneezer Scrooge – and as the name suggests, he was the ultimate scrooge.


Due to Jack and Sally not having a lot of money (they were saving their money for their new house), they decided to see if Scrooge would accept their deposit as their last months rent. Scrooge however was not happy with this – not at all. He was a greedy greedy man who didn’t care about anything but his money.


He gave Jack and Sally an ultimatum. If they weren’t able to come up with a stupid amount of money for him – they had to leave by the next night. Unfortunately, Jack and Sally didn’t have the money that he wanted, so they decided to move and get away from the pollution that was Ebeneezer and his minions.

This posed a new problem. Although they were free from his clutches, the new house wasn’t ready yet – therefore Jack and Sally needed somewhere to store their belongings for the time being … but where?

Jack had a good friend called Mark (call it a ‘Bromance’ if you will). Mark had moved out of his old house in Fast-Taco-Bel and had moved to the land of Bangors&Mash. His old house was close by to the house that Scrooge owned. Mark offered Jack and Sally his old shed to store their belongings until their new house was available.

On the night that they were evicted by Scrooge, Jack and Sally had nowhere to go for the night – therefore they were offered the shed as shelter until the next morning. Sally had planned to take Baby Dominic down to her hometown the next day, the town of cooks to stay with her family until the new house was ready. Jack had a circle of great reliable friends who he could stay with also.

Moving day came. Jack and Sally hired a mover van and transferred all their belongings from the house of Scrooge to Mark’s old shed. This took a large part of their day and so they were very tired after they were done. What they didn’t realise though … was that there was a catch.

Meet Vanessa McBitterBitch.


(She’s secretly Ursula the Sea Witch in disguise and the second and main antagonist of our story!)


Vanessa was Marks Ex-Baby Maker. She lived in Marks old house until two weeks prior to these events – when she met a hypocritical douchebag of a man called Rasputin McBaldGit and moved in with him.


They made the perfect evil duo. On first impressions, these people appeared to be ‘holier than thou’ and the ‘perfect role models’ … but that’s what makes this story so hilarious! Deep down in their wicked twisted hearts, they would stop at nothing to make sure that they provided nothing but twisted bitter misery on all those who had a glimmer of happiness. Jealousy is truly a dangerous thing.

Therefore you can probably imagine what happened next. On this particular night, Jack and Sally had finished moving all their belongings and decided to relax for a half hour before moving again. They thought that Vanessa would be nowhere to be seen – but alas! They were so very wrong.

It turned out that Vanessa wanted to sell an old tumble-drier she previously owned. The Buyer of said dryer came to the house to inquire about it. Jack, out of the kindness of his heart, ended up helping Vanessa sell her tumble drier – but did she appreciate it? She doesn’t know what the word ‘appreciation’ means! To be honest, Jack really should have broken that dryer on hindsight!

Vanessa then came back to the house which she was NO LONGER LIVING IN, and seen Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic with all their belongings. Then, without warning, with the screeching sound of a harpie, she practically screamed at Jack, accusing him of all the crimes you could think of (this is why you never assume things … it’s true what they say when they say that when you assume you make an ass out of you and me). This was followed by a phone call to Mark – screeching in a tone of rage that was beyond belief. She literally brewed up such an unnecessary storm that she didn’t give Jack or Mark the chance to defend themselves!


‘Your family is taking the biscuit!’ (Well to be fair – Vanessa was the one that went through with the ceremony of becoming Mark’s baby maker (hence becoming part of the ‘offensive family’ in the first place!))

‘How dare you do this to MY house!’ (Remember, she doesn’t live there no more … and had moved out of there two weeks prior)

‘This is ruining my new life!’

‘My partner will beat the sh*t out of you!’

Those were only some of the hurtful things that Vanessa said. Not to mention her potty mouth was atrocious!

She departed and left Jack and Sally absolutely gobsmacked. Before this incident, Vanessa was always as nice as pie to both Jack and Sally … but now Vanessa was obviously showing off her true dark dark colours.

It wasn’t long before Rasputin did come along … and if Vanessa blew up a storm, he created a freaking Tsunami.


‘How dare you! This is Vanessa’s property!’ (It actually wasn’t … SHE HAD MOVED OUT OF THIS PROPERTY TO LIVE WITH HIS UGLY ASS TWO FREAKING WEEKS AGO!! GAHH!)

‘You have no right to be here!’ (and what right did he have to be found by Vanessa’s oldest child lying there drunk as a skunk on Vanessa’s sofa?)

‘Why are you sitting there? Get up and get the f*ck out!’

This was just some of the crap that he was spewing.

Now, here’s the part you should particularly take heed of – Vanessa was also a mother (not that she knows what that term means – but I digress) to three children of her own.

Rasputin’s profession was that of a child therapist. Let me emphasize the CHILD part of the title ‘CHILD THERAPIST’ – and yet they were more than happy to practically kick out a 4-5 month old baby into a cold wintery night with nowhere to go (He PURELY does this to impress the spoilt bratty child of a whore that he claims to ‘quote and quote’ love). Just let that sink in. It still blows Sally’s mind even now.

(However it is true what they say – you can’t spell ‘Therapist’ without ‘Rapist’ … and these two people well and truly rape you mentally and emotionally – it’s what they do best.)

Making sure she got her last word before Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic left, Vanessa finally said ‘I hope you find a place guys, but this was not acceptable’ … what a massive painful kick in the nuts! Sally still feels the sting of that pure and utter hypocrisy and cruelty!


Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic were literally made to leave without getting everything they needed. Poor Baby Dominic didn’t even have any calpol for his sore gums because Rasputin and Vanessa were complete and utter villains who literally made the poor couple flee! The poor young family were left alone with only a few essentials and the pram in the cold wet wintery night in the middle of Fast-Taco-Bel (probably not the safest place to be alone at night!)

Thankfully, their Deus-Ex-Machina is about to appear! There is a happy ending to this story after all!

Mark had traveled all the way from Bangors&Mash to help out Jack and Sally in their time of need when no one else was there to help. This was when Sally became not only relieved but extremely overwhelmed (which in turn made her extremely emotional … at least she thinks that’s what she felt. It was hard to tell at the time because she was so angry). Mark let Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic stay in his house in Bangors&Mash overnight. If Mark hadn’t had such a kind compassionate heart – Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic would have been very very stuck!

Jack, Sally and Baby Dominic arrived safely to the house at Bangors&Mash and were FINALLY able to settle down and relax (Even though all they had was a bottle (with only a bottle of whole milk and boiling water to feed the baby with), a bag of nappies, wipes, Sally’s purse and a few of Sally’s razors (random I know … lol)). They made it work however – they had to for Baby Dominic.

HOWEVER (oh, this gets better!) both Vanessa and Rasputin were not finished trying their very very hardest to make Sally and Jack’s lives even more of a misery! They had the absolute cheek to phone CPS/Social Services – telling them that they were ‘concerned’ for the welfare of Baby Dominic. What a load of bullsh*t. Where was that concern earlier?

(Let me just mention that the police were threatened upon them too … but that never happened because they didn’t have the guts and somehow knew at that point that they were being absolute idiots.)

The hilarious part is that CPS were literally BORED and sick to death of the accusations because there was NOTHING to investigate. (This had happened before – quite a few times) They literally just phoned Jack and Sally to make sure they were okay after the ordeal. If only Vanessa and Rasputin knew how to keep the ginormous noses out of other peoples business … it would have saved them a lot of embarrassment and an unnecessary phone bill! Sally was and always will be a better mother to her one child than Vanessa could ever be to all three of hers!

To this day, Vanessa and Rasputin probably thought that they were ‘doing the right thing’ … when in actual fact they were doing the most selfish possible thing. Let’s just say Jack and Sally know who NEVER to rely on ever again!

Moral of the story: Parenthood is so much easier when you’re not surrounded by psychotic moronic idiots. 🙂



Apologies for all the memes and GIFs! It was my way of making light of what was an incredibly traumatising situation! (Seriously, this was the PG version of the story … hopefully this gives you all a much more fun read! 🙂 )

Also, if ‘Vanessa’ or ‘Rasputin’ end up reading this and figure out this is about them – GOOD! I’m glad. I want you both to read this. I want you to see how your incredibly selfish actions affected me and especially my baby … and believe me, I could have given you two much more personal hurtful names in my little retelling – but I’m a bigger person than to stoop so low … unlike you two. 

Also, about your ‘super expensive’ bikes and sofa which we were apparently damaging … well tough luck! I’ve damaged something even more precious … your goddamn reputation.

If anyone else figures out/knows the true identities of Vanessa or Rasputin … please just do yourselves a favour and leave them be. They are a plague that should be avoided at all costs – adding fuel to their twisted bitter fire isn’t worth it. Just leave them be to lead their miserable lives … karma will come to bite them in the ass, and when it does they will crash and burn~ 🙂

In case you’re wondering – I wrote this blog not for pity or for attention or to ‘get my own back’ (although venting has made the sting that little bit easier to handle) … I wrote this blog to provide a warning. These people are the epitome of what is wrong with the world – and the world should know about it!

Being a ‘Motherless Mother’

Today is a weird day for me. It’s kind of sad, kind of nostalgic, kind of empty – it’s a mixture of emotions really. I guess that’s just the heart and soul slowly filling the void as it has been a long time since that pivotal moment took place. Today marks the 11th anniversary of my mothers passing away from cancer – so this is why I want to write this particular blog post today. I want to share my thoughts about being a ‘motherless mother’.



To be honest, I don’t really remember a lot about having a mother. Obviously I don’t remember her taking care of me when I was an infant. I remember bits and pieces going into my childhood – but then again, that period didn’t last very long. I was 11 years old when my mother passed so in retrospect – I was still a child in need of that particular nurturing.

What I do remember is how warm she was. In my opinion, she was the best person to get cuddles from because she was always so warm and cuddly and literally only wore fluffy fleeces and long skirts (unless she was going to church – then the fancy clothing came out). I also remember how I used to look at her and think that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She had perfect teeth that gave her that radiant smile and the kindest eyes. I remember how I always idolised her and hoped that I looked like her when I grew up. I also remember how loyal she was to God – without fail she was by my bedside every night to make sure I said my prayers before I went to sleep. We went to every Sunday school there was and we were there at church every Sunday – .front row pew every week with bells on.

Unfortunately I also remember how I took everything she did for granted. I just assumed that everyone had their parents until they grew old. I remember I used to cry myself to sleep at night if my mother was away to an evening church meeting or some other nightly event and I used to think to myself ‘I never want to be 70 – because when I’m 70 I definitely won’t have a mother then … I don’t know how I’d cope!’ Little did I know that God or some other being of authority would laugh at me and say ‘Jokes on you! We’re going to take her away now!’ At least now I had something in common with the majority of Disney Princesses.

That’s the weird thing about losing a parent … or becoming a parent yourself – you suddenly gain a completely new sentiment towards parents – you begin to have a huge appreciation for them.

To be fair though, throughout my life, I’ve had a lot of ‘mother figures’ looking out for me. My father was pretty much forced to become my new ‘mother’ when mine was no longer there. He was the one that had to cook my meals, do the housework and help me with my homework (although I was much better at procrastination than homework!) My sisters to some degree were also guides – they provided me with the feminine support that I needed (especially when it came to puberty). The women in my outer family circle also tried to be mother figures to me in their own wee way. Last year when I was in the early stages of pregnancy, it was my partner’s mother who took me out to buy me my first set of maternity clothes. At the end of the day though – as much as I did and still do appreciate them – they are all still substitutes for the real deal. It’s like having smash with your dinner instead of genuine potatoes – it’s similar but just not quite the same.

I never had a mother to teach me how to be a mother – at least not for a long enough period of time. (It’s a good job someone invented the ‘maternal instinct’!) I didn’t have a mother to support me when it came to my pregnancy – to come with me to my scans or hold my hand during labour. I pretty much had to figure all that kind of stuff on my own. She wasn’t able to be there to hold Phoenix for the first time. He’ll never see her, touch her or be a part of her life – he’ll never remember her existence.

He will know of her though. He will know that once, he did have two grandmothers. He’ll know that if she were alive she would have loved him – despite the circumstances – because he is my son. He’ll know that because of her, I now know what true unconditional love really is. 🙂


I love you Mummy … all I ever wanted in life was to keep you happy and I hope that regardless of my mistakes – that you’re still proud of me. ❤


Thank you for reading this blog post! This one was quite an emotional one for me to write – but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. New post coming soon … 🙂


So, while I was browsing facebook today, I came across this wee video and I just felt that it was too important not to share! Please have a look … 🙂

Believe it or not, I actually relate to almost all of these women to an extent. Although it hasn’t affected me too much, it’s hard not to feel judged sometimes (even if the one judging you is actually yourself). I feel judged all the time for not breastfeeding. I feel judged for not having a ring on my finger. I feel judged for not being able to go to work and help my partner out with financial needs because I don’t live near family and I can’t afford childcare. But do you know what? It really doesn’t matter at the end of the day. All that matters is that my baby is happy and smiling and healthy – so if that’s the case, I’m obviously doing something right, right? 🙂

At the end of the day, we’re all moms/mums/mummys/mamas/mammys/mothers or whatever you prefer to be known as. Let’s give each other a break and be open to all the mothering methods available to us (because let’s face it, motherhood is hard enough!). You and you alone know your own baby far better than anyone else – don’t let anyone take that away from you.
#EndMommyWars ❤


Thank you all for having a wee look at todays blog post! I know it’s very short, but I really hope it still has an impact on you all, and hope that it helps all you mothers out there know and realise that you aren’t alone and that your mothering methods are the best methods for your baby. You’re all doing a great job, so let’s keep going and stay positive! 🙂

Also, thanks to Similac for creating such an amazing and honest video – It shares a message that well and truly needs shared! (For more information, please visit http://similac.com/sisterhood-of-motherhood)


Becoming a mother is always a happy and exciting time to an extent – despite whatever the circumstances may be. Unfortunately though, motherhood isn’t all about dressing up your baby in cute clothes like a wee doll or having a bouncing bubbly smiley baby as an accessory. Motherhood comes along with a great deal of stress – ups and downs and roller-coaster rides like you wouldn’t believe (and don’t forget the everlasting battle with hormones!). In recent days, I’ve been feeling pretty crap for lack of a better word, and right now, the best thing I can do for myself is write about it. (I apologize if this post seems like a bit of a downer – but it does have a point, and an important one at that.)

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I HATE crying in public – however, on this occasion, I feel like I need to share this image.


This is an unedited photo of me after pretty much crying all night and a good portion of this morning – It’s not supposed to be flattering. It’s not supposed to be beautiful. It’s just supposed to be real. (Also, yes, I am literally just wearing a bra, but that is just how much I cared about putting on clothes at that moment in time.) Ironically, the camera makes me look BETTER than I actually did in real life.

One big weakness I have is that I truly struggle asking for help when I really need it. I don’t know why that is – maybe it’s because I don’t want to seem like a burden. Maybe it’s because I feel like my problem is genuinely stupid or idiotic and I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Maybe it’s because I don’t want people thinking I’m lazy for not being able to figure out or carry out the solution myself. Whatever the reason, problems become the root of negative emotions – and these emotions build up inside you. Unless you let these emotions out, like a game of Tetris, there are only so many blocks you can fit onto the screen before you ‘lose the game’.

It’s funny, because when I do get asked ‘what’s wrong’ (or I’m given the opportunity to release myself from my own burdens) – I never know how to answer. Sometimes I literally feel nothing but the need to cry into a pillow for three days. Other times there are so many things wrong that I can’t pinpoint what is actually wrong and the only way I can cope with it is by just crying it out. This in turn becomes a frustration to the other people around you who want to comfort you, who want to help you – and my partner understands this better than anyone.

I don’t mean to make it so hard though – I don’t mean to be so awkward. If I could, I’d probably write a book about what all my problems were and give it to him to read. Help him understand me better. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t feel like I can talk to my partner or that I don’t trust him enough with my problems – it’s just that sometimes, I physically can’t breathe so that I can talk. This sounds so ridiculous to say, but sometimes my heart just hurts so much it literally feels like it needs to burst – and yet I struggle to relieve it. Emotions are exhausting – and looking after a baby in the meantime pretty much almost kills you due to the fatigue. (Don’t get me wrong though, nothing gives me more pleasure than taking care of baby Phoenix – ironically, he is the one thing I stress about the least!)

Now here’s the thing – I don’t claim to have post-natal depression. There are a lot of days when I can’t stop smiling and I’m genuinely happy. I know there are mothers out there who have it way worse than I do. I know there are mothers that genuinely suffer from this awful fate and it is NOT a nice experience. (For more information on pre/postnatal depression, please visit http://www.pandasfoundation.org.uk 🙂 )

I’m also not asking for sympathy or pity – I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.

This is just a wee post to say – it’s okay. It’s okay to feel emotions, it’s okay to feel sad or depressed sometimes. It’s okay to cry and unleash your innermost thoughts – even if talking is hard sometimes. It’s okay to need a break away – it’s okay to give yourself time to breathe. Motherhood was never meant to be easy – but nothing worthwhile is after all.


Here’s a cute baby picture to make you smile and brighten your day … even if it’s just a little! 🙂 ❤


Thank you all for reading this blog post! I apologize for the wait. I hoped to make this a weekly thing, however due to no proper wifi/internet at home and a bit of a writer’s block I haven’t been able to achieve this just yet – but I’ll be posting as much as I can when I can, so please stay tuned for the next installment! ^u^

My ‘Beautiful Surprise’

Welcome to my blog! Long story short, I was inspired to start this blog due to my circumstances and experiences as a new-ish mother. I hope that what I write will be somewhat useful to new mummies, more experienced mummies, expectant mummies or anyone that someday hopes to be a mummy someday (married or unmarried)! 🙂

It’s always hard to know how to start these things. You need something witty, something that catches your eye or else people literally don’t give a crap … but I suppose for the purpose of this blog, the best way to start is at the very beginning. Firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Cathy Ross and I am 22 years old. I currently live in Belfast with my ‘almost’ 10 week old son, Phoenix Ross McElroy (Ross being his middle name, McElroy as his surname) and his father, Luke. We’re pretty much a typical family – he goes out to work at his job (aka, the breadwinner) and I’m the stay-at-home mother (because childcare is so flipping expensive! … but I also love being a mother also!). As parents, we try our best to be the best mother and father we can be for our son in every way (financially, emotionally and physically). There is one thing that makes us an ‘unconventional family’ in the eyes of society today however … it is the simple fact that Luke and I aren’t legally ‘husband and wife’.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to hint that I want a ring or put any pressure on marriage whatsoever. That isn’t my intention. I just want to share my experience as a mother trying to live under that prejudice and judgement. Apparently because I’m an ‘unmarried mother’, the birth of our beautiful child is ‘so wrong’.


These are the photos of my son when he was just a day old in the hospital (unfortunately the pink hospital blankets caused some confusion of his gender! :P)

I remember when I first found out I was pregnant. Well, I didn’t just ‘find out’. For me, it was a slow progression of coming to terms with the fact that I was indeed having a baby. It was actually my sister who initially pointed out the possibility to me (as she was the only one who knew I had sexual intercourse). In a sense, she knew way before I did. It only took one question for me to realize that something wasn’t quite normal – I had missed my period.

I remember waiting and waiting, praying it would eventually arrive and that my body was just somewhat out of sorts. But who was I kidding? My monthly cycle was always regular, so why change now? That didn’t stop me living in hope though. I know ‘hope’ is an awful word to use in terms of the chance of a non existing pregnancy, but that’s how I felt at the time. Thinking back now, it’s actually heartbreaking to think that I was petrified of being pregnant – not because I was scared of the prospect of being a mother or giving birth to a baby, but because I was afraid of my upcoming reputation.

I am the daughter of a Presbyterian minister (retired, but still a minister non-the-less). As a daughter of a minister (or any relation for that matter), you have a reputation to uphold – the reputation of being ‘a good girl’ or a ‘Christian’ girl if you will. This means (for example) ‘no drinking alcohol’, ‘no smoking’ and most certainly ‘no sex before marriage’. I was already ‘rebelling’ so to speak by dating a man that was from a Catholic background (God forbid, right??), but to then find out you’re carrying his baby? That’s just the icing on the cake for all the bigoted sectarians out there! (and let me tell you, the ‘Christian community’ is full of them!)

Don’t get me wrong, my father is a wonderful man. He has supported me through thick and thin (not to mention financially!) and he adores Phoenix … but the fact is, that as long as his title of ‘Minister of religion’ remains with him – this will always influence how we act and how we try to uphold our reputations, whether we are being true to ourselves or not. Is it so bad that I just want to escape from constantly being put in that box?

There is probably nothing worse for a minister than to find out his daughter is with child out of wedlock. (I sometimes felt like getting an STD would have been better received than getting pregnant … at least it’s not AS obvious you had sex!) To his credit though, he took the news a LOT better than I anticipated. He even made a joke how the scan picture was ‘the spitting image of him’! However, not everyone was so forgiving or nice about what they had to say about the situation. I remember being told from a third party that one of the responses (from another family member) to my pregnancy was ‘How could I do this to my father?’ What was it that I did to my father exactly? It wasn’t like I intentionally went out of my way to end up having a baby to spite him. I just made love with a man I had fallen in love with – is that really so bad? Would you prefer it if my partner was say, beating me up? abusing me? neglecting me? cheating on me? The only part my father was playing was that he was going to become a grandfather to a beautiful baby boy. I didn’t do what I did to oppose my father, far from it. I did what I did for me and my partner alone. There was no mistake that this act came with consequences (with protection used may I add), but I wouldn’t say I regret it, not at all.

Just to reassure everyone who still thinks that I’m in the wrong, pregnancy definitely was punishment enough. Not the fact I was carrying a little life inside of me, but the other side-effects of that. The morning sickness, the nausea, the fainting spells – I even had to stop a charity event I was taking part in because the pain was just too much! I also felt tired, out of breath and heavy all the time – I wasn’t even permitted to perform/act in one of my final pieces at uni due to health and safety because I was too heavily pregnant at the time … and I studied Drama! In the aftermath of giving birth, I now have stretch marks galore and disgusting amounts of loose skin that would revolt you looking at it. My lower back still hurts from time to time and I’m still slightly overweight from it. Then there’s the labour itself! That seems like a lot of cons I know – but then all I have to do is look at my baby boys gorgeous smile every morning and remember that it was all worth it, for that is the sacrifice of a mother, right? After all is said and done, looking back now, the pain was only an illusion of punishment – a form of punishment I had created for myself.

The saddest part about having a child out of wedlock, is the fact that society will always refer to him as being a bastard child – ‘a mistake’. Never in a million years will I ever refer to this little guy as being a ‘mistake’. A mistake is getting an answer wrong in an exam, taking a wrong turn on the road or buying semi-skimmed milk when you were supposed to buy whole milk. No matter the circumstances, surely the miracle of a child can’t be simply known as a ‘mistake’. Surely if God TRULY didn’t want me to have a child at this point in my life, surely he would have prevented it by non-fertilization or the taboo of miscarriage and the likes. I truly believe my son was bore to me at this time for a reason … to me, he will always be my ‘beautiful little surprise’ … ❤


Thank you for taking the time to read this … I know it may seem like my thoughts are all over the place and that this post is a wee tad long winded, but hopefully the next few blog posts will actually be controlled and coherent! Please stay tuned for the next update in ‘Confessions of an Unmarried Mother’! ^u^