My sons favourite present this year... a cardboard box and the apple and orange in his stocking.
It’s the simple things.
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Each morning my son an I have a conversation about what we want to be today, a boy or a girl.
Each day he decides, sometimes boy, sometimes girl, sometimes both (a goy as he calls it) and sometimes neither.
Today he is a goy lion.
I’m ok with that.
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The Mountain Goats - This Year
Everyone suddenly discovering this song and saying it sums up their 2020.
This song is my anthem every fucking year.
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My car broke down again, the laptop is hanging together with tape as i try and write my dissertation, i can’t pay the rent and we only have cereal left.
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Got mum-shamed again for not letting my son have sweets or chocolate.
He thinks raisins are sweets and a carrot is a treat. Get over it Shelly.
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A girl asked my son why he was wearing a girls dress. He replied it was actually a boys dress.
Since when did clothes have a gender.
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I was moaning about having wet feet.
My 4 year old said he told me to wear my wellies and i didn’t listen.
Parents need parenting.
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I never lied this much before I became a parent.
Where has the food gone - the fairies ate it.
Why did you say shit - because god said I could
Why can't i eat sweets - because you're allergic
What type if cloud is that - a fluffinelingo cloud
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I slept with someone for money so I could afford to buy my son a christmas present.
Everyone else is getting something homemade this year.
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son: why do people die
- shit ok lets keep this simple -
me: ok well sometimes people’s bodies stop working and they die. It’s ok though, they’ve often had good lives and they’re often ready to leave.
son: So... do they put they’re shoes on before they go.
My son now thinks people be saying bye bye, popping they’re shoes on and jumping in a box.
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I told my son the fairies ate the last hot cross bun.
He hasn’t found my wings yet.
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Toilet paper all over the kitchen.
My son blames the cat.
they are both looking at me.
They both look guilty.
I walk away and lock myself in the bathroom.
Ten minutes later i realise there is no toilet paper.
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My four-year-old an I had an argument.
It played out like this....
Him (after stubbing his toe): “Shit”
Me: (After secretly appreciating the use of the word in good context): Can we use a different word please.
Him: It’s not even a real word.
Me: It is, it means poo.
Him: No it’s fake!
Me: No it’s real and rude and people might find it offensive if you say it too much.
*INSERT TANTRUM*
It was at this point i realised just how pathetic my parenting had become that we were arguing about well... shit.
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I let my son wear a dress to school today. He was beaming in amongst the purple and the unicorns. I pray none of the other kids say anything mean. I don’t want him to lose his sweet innocence. My neighbour still thinks he’s a girl. When i’m around to defend him i don’t worry. It’s when i can’t be there to stand up for his freedom that i panic.
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