Miscellaneous greatness

I have no idea what the fuck to call this?

I basically had a few bits to use up in he fridge and sort of just winged it… no change there then.

It’s essentially a twist of meatballs with chicken meatballs instead with a twist on the el Classico.


Just stay with me on this. I didn’t even take photos because I wasn’t expecting much till I tasted at the end and blew my own mind!

You will need:

  • Chicken meatballs/pre made were what we had but if you’re a culinary wizard then smash them out ya self!
  • Passata sauce
  • Worcester sauce (the tits in every meal)
  • Mushrooms
  • Onion
  • Celery
  • Spinach
  • Spaglehettiiiii
  • Garlic

Soooo, we all know where this is going, although this time I didn’t even follow a recipe so the winging was real. (I also expected it to be beef meatballs when I got them out the freezer yesterday so this all came to me like a vision in white.)


  • In a large frying pan heat oil, finely chopped onion (to the point its pulverised if your other half had an aversion to it and used less than half of one), garlic and salt (if it’s not for the kiddies)
  • Finely chop 2 celery stalks and add
  • Finely chop mushrooms and do the same (I used 2 and again, pulverising was essential)
  • Add the chicken balls, we had a 12 pack and it made 3 big meals (once they were almost fully cooked I quartered them so they were less offensive)
  • Add enough passata to get them swimming, not drowning and add a cup of water
  • Add Worcester sauce, I’d add gallons if I could but you do you
  • Get the spaghetti on
  • Let it simmer and add some pasta if it looks a bit dense. (I let it simmer for about half an hour- 45 mins to get even more flavour)
  • In the last 5 mins add spinach
  • Serve with lashings of cheese if you fancy. Of course you fancy! (Some mozzarella would have gone down an absolute treeeat!)

Beaux loved helping again chopping the mushrooms, breaking up the celery and sprinkling the spinach (could have used basil) we went on a massive walk and got an onion on the way so coming in from the chilly afternoon this was very warmly welcomed! (I did have to go over all the chopping to get it really fine but it was great to get her involved!)

I mean, I’m not sure how much Play Doh she ate with it, but it was a hit! I thought about adding a red pepper we needed to use up but I didn’t think the flavours would gel. Again you could mix up the meat/veg or even pasta type, essentially making it a completely different fucking meal 🤣



Feminism, Shmeminism



So its been a year since I found out I was pregnant with Casey, although it was 2 weeks before this that Beaux started listening to my belly, telling me she was listening to a baby boy (what the actual f*ck!?).

I’m beyond happy to say my pregnant days are over. Yes I hate to say I was blessed both times, but I was. No sickness, no real difficulties other than hating every single moment the second time round.. (soz CaseyBear.) Partly because there’s no time for rest or naps second time round, partly because I was working 9/10 hours days but mostly because babies are parasites and absolute fun sponges.

And while I was one of the ‘lucky ones’ I was still inundated with comments and opinions and judgey eyes that woke a hormonal rage inside me, so f*ck knows how women deal with that while having all the horrendous symptoms to boot – let alone the complicated journeys so many mothers undertake before even getting to the point of pregnancy.

At what point is it ok to comment on the size, shape or location of a belly? my bump with Beaux was tiny for months. I’d get asked “is the baby ok? ohhh thats such a small bump for the age?”ABSOLUTELYDOONELESLEY! This time it was, “god you couldn’t get bigger if you tried! or Wow look at the size of you!”

– I’m sorry Brenda, but my midwife said I needed to put on at least 50lbs to have a healthy pregnancy and as much as my old psyche protested, I figured fuck it, this is the ONE time I can eat anything (and surprisingly still be judged) so I exceeded her expectations and gained 57! Go me.

Turns out though he was only 6lb7 so I can’t even blame the weight gain on it being “all baby”. Maybe thats where this greediness started.

And don’t get started on the disapproving comments on feeding preferences, sleeping preference, childcare preferences. WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER TO YOU HOW SOMEONE CHOOSES TO KEEP THEIR BABY ALIVE?! If its easier to co-sleep so you all get some sleep, then fucking co-sleep, catch those Z’s. If someone wants to flop a tit out in Tescos to feed their baby the most organically natural way, rather than spend £10+ every few days on formula, then fair play to them.

However if someone chooses to bottle feed how is it acceptable (from my midwives) to say “obviously its your choice but there’s less support here for bottlefed babies”) – GOOD ONE Wallingford Maternity Led Unit. – Thankfully I was lucky to have no problems with latching or supply but imagine if I did, or decided actually, black raw nipples and milk pissing everywhere just wasn’t something I was willing to sign up for. What then? So many women have all kinds of complications with feeding. The bare minimum are actually dealt with a sweet hand so when I see someone absolutely crushing #breastfeedawareness it gives me all the lady feels.

Its difficult to feel supported or empowered when so many professionals treat a new mum as a chore in their job rather than understanding this is completely new and mostly terrifying experience first time round. Even second time round. (shout out to all the students/midwives that actually give a shit about the meaning of their job. – and an even bigger shout out to Gail Walter – John Radcliffe who, even though has probably delivered 93279467239564 babies, she made us feel like bringing Casey into the world was the first and biggest achievement of her career. Thats how its done people.)

What concerns me the most is its always women commenting and judging. Men know better than to poke the fire (thats caused by the belly-of-smaug heartburn). It just baffles me that women seem to miraculously and immediately after birth forget that its just not ok to say basically anything to a pregnant whale *i mean women* that she’s not already said about herself. Word of warning – no matter how utterly fucked a pregnant women looks, don’t tell her she looks tired. Like when everyone tells new parents they look knackered. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

I thought women were meant to all be in this together. Girl power. Spice world, Beyoncé and all that bullshit. If every day women can’t seem to support each other during a time thats so sensitive and emotionally fucking then this whole ‘feminism’ thing seems like the blind leading the blind.

but thats none of my business…

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(This sounds awfully shouty bollox but come on girls, bumps unite!)

Even she was judging me at this point. 🙄😂

The dreaded question

So today I was faced with the all-time bug bearing question every new mum faces.

I’ve heard it a lot the last 17 weeks and while usually I’m relieved I can answer to the comfort of the questioner, today was difficult.

“Is he good?”

You mean does he sleep and stay quiet? – Well yes, usually he sleeps and doesn’t cry.. unless he’s hungry, or tired, or bored, or lonely, or scared, or cold, or hot, or fancies a cry. Because surprisingly, and completely unbeknownst to me, he’s a tiny baby. (Who would have known? I thought they came out knowing the basic principles of morality?! I know some fully grown adults that still don’t know this…) So his basic survival skills don’t always allow for being a good baby. – And quite frankly Barbara, last night he was an utter arsehole. I’m still sticking to my word that croup is a thing of the devil and I’m pretty sure at around 2am 666 faintly showed up on his forehead.

It’s hard enough as it is during those sleepless moments that feel like days when you start questioning your ability as a parent, your capability as a human and in the darkest times, the love for your child. That added with people’s opinions that your baby, in that moment, is bad can become an even lonelier and scarier place. It’s not about good or bad, it’s about knowing your baby is alive, healthy and while that entails the ability to let you know vocally their needs, its kept them alive thus far.

So lets all just take a minute and think about the newborn small talk (and we all know how I feel about pregnancy/newborn/general small talk) and maybe adjust the question… Like Is he happy? 

Well yes, he’s beyond happy, he smiles the second he wakes up and sees me, his world lights up when Dan is around and his first gummy giggle was at Beaux. (Don’t get me started on people’s attitudes and opinions towards how she should correctly behave around him.) But maybe his happiness is an involuntary reaction to trapped wind?! He could be miserable as fuck deep down.

So is my baby good? Well he’s alive and striving and other than the croup set back and being an arsehole on what seems to be purpose at times, he’s been a perfectly perfect baby to me, but ultimately he’s just a baby, a baby that genuinely coughs and farts at the same time just as much as the next.


Here’s them at 2am. Where I was top of their guest list to Partytown. Casey did an exceptional, shouty bollox, rendition of Prince’s Kiss and Beaux just kept asking when it was time for breakfast...

-There were 4 in the bed and Daddy said “Fuck this.”-