Welcome to Mum in the South                                      

Blogging so my kids can read about themselves when they are older, as I may still be too traumatised to talk about it.

I survived my caravan holiday

Posted Tuesday 14th July 2015   By Ericka Waller

So I did it. I went away for a week with my whole family, and we all made it back alive. Seven people in a small caravan was um, interesting. It’s amazing the things you notice when sharing a confined space with someone. My brother, for example, has the heaviest, stompiest walk ever. Who knew? He does now, because I informed him of it on day three, when I’d almost got the children to sleep after two hours of trying. “Off to get another cider are you?” I bellowed. “Why don’t you walk a BIT LOUDER?”, so he did. He also gave me a dead arm on the way. I went to dob him in to mum but she had locked her caravan when she saw me coming. My children (and me) were so over-excited and poorly behaved that no one wanted us about.

I'm (finally) no longer broody

Posted Tuesday 14th July 2015   By Ericka Waller

So I never thought it would happen, but my milk has finally gone. I can squeeze my right nipple as hard as I like, it’s as dry as the desert. This must mean one thing, I’ve finally stopped being broody. I still admire pregnant women and remember with a fondness, the feeling of my baby moving inside me, but then, from nowhere, I remember, with even more clarity, the horrendous piles I had. I don’t miss them. Nor do I miss heartburn, backache, livid stretchmarks appearing each time I moved, or my insatiable need for cheese.

Why I don't tell my daughters they are pretty

Posted Wednesday 17th June 2015   By Ericka Waller

I get told how beautiful my daughters are on a daily basis. People stop me in the supermarket to remark on their gorgeous hair and piercing green eyes. They are right, but I won’t tell my girls what they say. Instead I tell them they are valued. I tell them that they make me smile. I tell them they are strong and capable. I tell them I believe in them.

A tale of sibling rivalry

Posted Wednesday 17th June 2015   By Ericka Waller

So it was Thing-two’s birthday weekend. From Friday to Sunday it was all about the middle-one. Cakes, cards, presents, parties. This went down like a shit sandwich with the first born, so much so she’s been renamed ‘Well-Jel’. “It’s so unfair, it’s all about HER!” Well-Jel bemoaned, pointing an accusing finger at the birthday girl, who was knee-deep in wrapping paper. “Well, yes, but your birthday is all about you”, I said diplomatically. “NO, my birthday is all about Jesus, because I was born on Christmas eve”, she shot back. I pity the fool who marries my smart-mouthed girl. No flies on her.

How running helps me cope with being a single mum

Posted Tuesday 9th June 2015   By Ericka Waller

The morning after my husband left me, I got up at 7am and put the kettle on. I am not a hero, I just wanted a cup of tea and no one else was going to make it. When I found out he was seeing someone else, I had the ‘Mrs J Waller’ tattoo adorning my left buttock covered up with a giant Ganesh. I was not trying to be tough, I was just replacing one pain in the arse with another. I’ll never forget lying face-down on that cling-film covered operating table while a man with giant holes in his ears and no unmarked skin shaved my buttock. I remember asking, ‘Jesus, is that why he left?’

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