We did it! Bad Mums’ Club Launch Night

And breathe!..

Something I’ve not been doing for the past few months thinking about setting up Bad Mums’ Club. Can I do it? Am I mad? Will people really want to come? After all, this was an idea born out of a night in with a bottle of wine to myself ‘a la Bridget Jones’…should it have been buried with the hangover that followed?


This year I made a pact to myself – it’s time to get scared again. You may have heard countless life coaches and ‘gurus’ spouting about ‘do one thing a week that scares you’, well I picked the mother of all scary tasks and now I’m glad I did.

On March 23rd 2017 over 50 women turned out for the launch of Bad Mums’ Club, none of them really knowing what to expect. I admit I was overwhelmed and moved at the turnout (in my head I expected about 10 people to show and that would have been made up of my relatives and close friends) but these were REAL people, most of which didn’t know me from Adam. To see them all together made me think – this really IS what Mums want – a place where you can go and be bloody honest for once, have a bit of fun and enjoy being YOU again.

And so the night began…

Mums who arrived on their own felt their nerves ease as they enjoyed the complimentary glass of prosecco, those who arrived with friends in tow chatted eagerly, all were excited to find out what lay ahead.

I’ll admit I have never been as nervous as I was making my welcome speech to all the ladies. For me this is really personal. I can’t tell you how passionate I am about Bad Mums’ Club and when you feel so strongly about something you really want other people to feel it too. Standing up there and telling a room full of wonderful women why I wanted to do this was daunting, but they smiled, hell they even laughed along with me.

That’s when I knew I had done the right thing.

What followed was far better than my words – BBC Radio 5 live’s Sam Walker, our first ever guest speaker, was fantastic (although I knew she would be). Sam is a mum of two who juggles her career with being ‘mummy’. She overwhelmed me last year when she decided to live her dream, took a break from work and went off with her family to live in New York and Australia for a number of months so they could have the experience of a lifetime. That takes balls and it’s something I think as mums we often think we can’t do anymore – yet here she was doing it. Inspiring, funny and not sugar coating the hard times either…Sam was bloody brilliant!

More prosecco flowed, and why not, we are supposed to be ‘Bad Mums’ after all ; )

Then it was time for the ladies to mingle. They had all been given a coloured sticker when they arrived and now they had to get into groups depending on which colour they were. Some got to try out cocktail flaring first, others reflexology, face mapping and some ate cake – yes really! Local businesses had come along to give the mums a treat and unite the community – something I was keen for Bad Mums’ Club to do. After two hours of ‘me’ time it was hard to get anyone to leave. I was inundated with ‘when is the next one?’, ‘can we have a go at this next time?’ and above all it was just heartwarming to stand and watch women who didn’t know each other at the start of the night, forming new friendships.

So thank you ladies, this couldn’t continue without you. This is for you. This is for me. This is for everyone who has ever had a moment where they feel like they are not good enough. Raise your glass…to Bad Mums’ Club. We are launched and we are proud!



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Lights, donuts and £10 slime!

Did anybody get to see the Blackpool Illuminations this year?

Every 12 months it sounds like a good idea to pack into the car and go and see the multi-coloured flashing lights adorning the seaside  town and every year we come back saying ‘NEVER AGAIN’!

Well, glutton for punishment, me and the hubby took the kids a few weeks ago and it seemed like EVERYONE in the world had had the same idea as us.

As you might imagine the traffic was bumper to bumper and the fun of ‘the first one to spot Blackpool Tower’ started to fade as it became apparent we’d have spotted the Eiffel Tower in less time that it took to get to the Golden Mile. When we finally arrived the kids were so high on Haribos they wouldn’t have known whether we were in Blackpool or the back garden.

You would have thought the trauma was over when we got there but then we had to park. Cue stress levels exceeding boiling point and my ‘hangry’ other half (who was dying for chips, peas and gravy by the prom) was being quite free with his tongue at the prospect we were driving around in circles. Then, from the back of the car, my 4-year-old son shouts out of the window ‘where’s the friggin’ space’! I officially wanted to die right there and then as it was so loud the crowds passing by all stopped with that awful judgmental look on their faces that says ‘I wonder where’s he got that from’? Needless to say, the hubby got the death stare from me and the windows went firmly back up.

It’s not just a trip to the lights though is it?

When you come to Blackpool you can’t get away without a visit to the arcade. Do you remember when it was all about the ‘two p’ machines and getting a few coins back like on Tipping Point? Well not anymore, it’s all about the ones that pump out the tokens…where you spend about a tenner trying to collect 500 little paper tickets that you then exchange for 2 lollies and a pot of slime. Money well spent eh!

When we finally got to the main event…the lights, my little boy was fast asleep and my little girl transfixed to the £10 slime and nothing else. So, like the sensible parents that we are, we fought over who had the last hot donut and in doing so we missed the goddamn tram we’d waited an hour for that’s shaped like a boat and has enough wattage to power up Manchester.

Blackpool Illuminations, don’t you just love them?

You know though, just like childbirth, we will all forget how much pain it puts us through and be tempted to do it all over again next year.

See you at Central Pier!


Normal Service Resumed!

In honour of the parents who have survived the school holidays…(just) I thought I’d share a few things that you will never hear come out of a parents mouth at this time of the year. And if you do hear them, I promise to run naked around Manchester in disbelief…although trust me, after all the sweets and kids’ leftovers I’ve succumbed to over Summer that wouldn’t be a pretty sight!

Quotes you’ll never hear come out of a parents mouth:

  • “I wish the kids were off for another week.”
  • “It was so easy getting the school uniform this year. I loved the words ‘out of stock’ coming up when I went to order it online.”
  • “It’s ok darling I’ve just shouted so loud for you to wake up that the neighbours have come round. You stay in bed, we’ve still got 5 minutes to make it to school on time.”
  • “You’ve lost your new coat on your first day back, that’s amazing we expected it in the first week but not day one…what an achievement!”
  • “Yes of course you can sign up for swimming, gymnastics, football club and drama classes, me and Daddy don’t have a life and we have an endless pot of money.”
  • “I can’t wait till you get your first project to bring home so we can spend every night getting involved making things out of loo roll and cereal boxes.”
  • “You want Lelli Kelly school shoes like Amy?  Why don’t we buy you 5 pairs, one for each school day…they are so cheap compared to your George from Asda ones.”
  • “No gin for me tonight, I’m going tee total!”

So here’s to normal service resuming, at least until the October half term…



Paddling pools can p*** off!

Well the current heatwave must have sent me delirious because this week I succumbed to my children’s pleas of getting a paddling pool. If I’m honest it took days of trying to placate them with ice lollies and witnessing their overheated tantrums that made me give in, along with a sunny gin fuelled afternoon where I would have easily said yes to anything!

It was only a paddling pool request after all, it wasn’t like the time they asked for a dog, cat, furby, hatchimal…this one we could probably manage to do.

Oh boy was I so wrong!

Firstly, let me explain how hard it is to buy a paddling pool when all the other parents out there are being badgered to do the same thing. The words ‘out of stock’ almost became a mantra until hurrah, Argos came to the rescue with the last paddling pool in stock. By this time my budget had gone from spending just £20 to ‘I’ll pay whatever it costs JUST GIVE ME A GODDAMN PADDLING POOL!’

Triumphant in my quest I raced home to set it up to surprise the minions after school. This was at 1 o’clock, by 2.45pm I was still sat there trying to blow it up, about to pass out from boredom and heat exhaustion. Note to self, do not be tight, buy the pump that is recommended to come with it rather than use the super slow foot pump you’ve had since you bought your first car (which was in black and white days)!

There will be some of you nodding along in sympathy with this I’m sure-yes you’ve been there AND felt the pain of realisation that once it’s finally pumped up-you have to FILL it up!

Well, I have to say it was all worth it for the screams of delight from my two little cherubs as they burst into the garden then ran up to their bedrooms to change into their swimwear. Cut to 10 mins later though when the oldest one has branded it ‘boring’ and my youngest peed in it and then complained that the water was too wet.

With the kids back inside watching TV and playing ‘MarioLand’ there was only one thing to do, yes, I dived in to the yellow tinged water with my Prosecco ice pop (a revelation by the way) and enjoyed the sunshine.

So, make use of the paddling pool whilst you can because after all by this time next week we will either have the rain back or a hose pipe ban in place. Good look trying to get the thing back in the box when you finally deflate it too, I can guarantee it will end up in the green bin – but, just like childbirth, next year the pain will all be a distant memory and we will do it all over again!

Cheerio for now,

The Big Bad Mumma xxx



Competitive parents and rich Tooth Fairies!

Like most parents with school age kids I’m gearing myself up for that time of the year when they come home with a ‘project’ to do. Yes, that moment when they present you with a mammoth list of things they need to build/create that usually require you to do more work than them. And then there’s the competitive element you get dragged into…

“Little Johnnie in class 3B is doing a project on astronauts and he’s going to NASA space station in America with his parents so he can do some research.”

“Libby from class 4A is doing a presentation on the Ancient Egyptians. She is dressing up as Cleopatra complete with an Asp that her Mum and Dad have loaned from the local pet shop.”

Now, whilst I might be exaggerating here, there is a lot of truth in the extent to which some parents go to to make sure their ‘mini me’s’ are top of the class.

Like the time I experienced ‘House-gate’ when my little girl was about 5 years old. She came home with a task from the teacher that said she had to ‘describe your favourite room in your house and why. You can use pictures or be as creative as you wish.’

Well, of course, in my head the words ‘if you wish’ meant just one thing – you didn’t have to go overboard if you didn’t want to. So, I actually felt proud of myself on ‘hand in’ day when my daughter had completed not just written words but an accompanying picture of her bedroom (coloured in no less)! That was until I reached the playground…

As if in slow motion one of the kids from my daughters’ class walked past me with her parents in tow, all 3 of them were holding up what can only be described as a mini house. Other parents’ eyes also followed them. We were all in awe, disbelief and pretty much mouthing the words ‘WTF?”

Yes, there’s always the one that goes that EXTRA mile and this particular family had created not just their kids favourite room but their HOUSE. Plus I later found out, (after quizzing my child at dinner), that their model also had carpet in it – the SAME carpet from their actual living room. How the hell do you compete with that??

Since then though I’ve upped my game and like to use the ‘ageing a piece of paper to look like old parchment trick’.

Step 1: spill black coffee over a piece of paper

Step 2: dry out naturally

Step 3: crumple it up

Voila!  – just call me a Blue Peter presenter!

I want to just leave you with one final thought for now…does anyone else think the Tooth Fairy has hiked up her pay outs?

According to my daughter the plucky pixie left a £5 note under the pillow of one of her toothless friends recently and now she thinks that is the going rate! Unfortunately ‘Tink’, as we like to call her, was strapped for cash when she visited our house so left just £3 (made up of lots of loose change). Although she did leave our daughter a lovely coffee stained, crumpled note to make up for it…

Till next time,

The Big Bad Mumma



Potholes have a lot to answer for…

It’s been one of THOSE DAYS…

It all started off quite well. I’d managed to put my knickers on the right way around and drunk at least half a cup of coffee before it went cold – you could say life was sweet. For once I WAS that Stepford wife, I’d put a wash on before leaving the house and I was taking the terrible twosome (aka the kids) to a play centre as a motherly treat. The sun was even shining, I should’ve known from that omen something was bound to go wrong.

Kids in the car. Check.

Snacks packed to avoid the centre’s overly priced tuck shop. Check.

Drive down the main road. Pothole. F***!!

I hear an almighty clunk and then I panic. ‘What was that Mummy?’ That, my inquisitive 7- year old is a big hefty hole in my purse (that’s what I wanted to say but I took a deep breath and pulled over). Phew, no sign of real damage. Relief.

Stepford Wife is back in the game.

We’ve got Dua Lipa on the stereo (god knows who she is but my little girl seems to know every lyric), and my little boy is happy getting to grips with the Chupa Chups lolly that I know I will regret giving him later.

The play centre was a dream; no nose bleeds, no weeing in the ball pool, and I was only asked once by my 3-year old son to slide down the snake that really wasn’t meant for a 30 something.

I survived. I am invincible. I spoke too soon.

I came out to a FLAT tyre. Not just a FLAT tyre, a totally wrecked one! The good news was we were right next to a Kwik Fit – the bad news was I still had the kids in tow. To be fair I still had snacks to bribe them with and the saviour of an iPad. But then, it happened. Whilst stepping out of the waiting room to inspect the replaced tyre I suddenly heard my name booming over the Tannoy system and the words  “could you come back in, your son is exposing himself in reception”.

Oh. My. God. I ran inside like Paula Radcliffe in need of a wee – and there he was waving his ‘winky’ proudly about, laughing.

He’s got his winky out…in Kwik Fit!!!!

‘Put it away’ I said frantically whilst pulling up his pants.

‘He’s NEVER done that before’ I insisted as the other customers smiled in disbelief.

My daughter was laughing, my son was laughing, I was as red as a beetroot BUT the winky was back in its box. What a day!

So, spare a thought for me next time you swerve to avoid those pesky potholes, thanks to them I’m to be forever known as ‘the woman whose son waved his winky in Kwik Fit’.





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