I know. I know. You think “what can be so wonderful about mum fails?” I mean they are as it sounds: FAILS and they are supposed to teach us how to do right next time; they are supposed to show us the way and make us feel so guilty about the wrong we have just done to our child.

After two and a half years of parenting I realised I am not that mum. Not even close to that guilt trip “I will be better next time”/ “I will thrive at parenting from now on”

Please, my child got no recollection from the early stages of her life so she can haunt me and blame later on. And is she will, well, I will have to deal with it when the time comes. Until then, I will actually enjoy my mum fails. I will take pictures and videos of my child embarrassing moments, I will #mumfail all those insane times when I laughed out loud at the stupid things I have done.

It is funny and how else will I build memories and have proof to show my daughter if not like this? Do you think she will want to see pictures of herself wearing a cute Christmas outfit or she’ll actually want proof of that story when she got stuck in the imagination box? (do I have to mention I was filming and taking pictures, laughing like crazy while she was stuck there? ) or when she ate spaghetti for the first time and she was all covered in the bolognese sauce – including her eyebrows, eyelashes, ears, hair – anywhere you can imagine basically.

I had my fair share of mum fails and I learned that without them we cannot thrive, we cannot become who we are and most definitely our children won’t grow up happily without them.

Being a first time mum and not having help around at all made me fail so many times it’s hilarious. Right before going into labor I was watching youtube videos about how to dress a newborn and how to bathe a newborn. It sounds stupid but it’s reality. I wanted at least two things to know before my daughter was to meet her clumsy mum.

Once she was here I learned on the go. I slept with her in my arms and almost dropped her without realising (I know what you think but she was always feeding and trust me, her dad couldn’t do this job) ;

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I was so desperate to have some me time that I would do anything possible to make her sleep while we were out so I can sip on a coffee and read a book (because I was tired, because I lived on coffee, because I wanted to be that perfect mum with a perfect figure and a perfect baby – BTW – it’s fake; they don’t exist)

I left her in her bed, unsupervised while I hoovered the house and done the dishes (in my defence she was small and also, she couldn’t even crawl or roll over from one side to another); I keep the TV on at all times so I can’t say just exactly how much screen time my daughter has on daily bases (she is so used to it by now that she doesn’t even pay attention to the bloody thing)

Shall I go on? Do you need more examples?

I’ll give you another one. I am rubbish at cooking so my daughter eats basic foods and I can’t get myself to bake a muffin because I am so scared of failing at this as well. So yes, she will have a Sainsbury’s scone from the bakery section, she will eat a muffin from Starbucks although it’s full of sugar; she has those Fruit Shoot juices from time to time because she doesn’t drink enough water so I think they are better than nothing, and yes, although she is only two and a half, we go McDonalds on Thursdays and she’ll enjoy a portion of chips with ketchup (she won’t eat anything else from there anyways); did I mention that after the chips we will go Creams and she will eat a scoop of Ice cream so she can get enough energy to run around the soft play and give me ten minutes of peace? Yes, she does all these and more. And I am guilty of all these and more.

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I leave her to take a nap and although I hear her yapping away in there, singing to her toys or telling them a bedtime story, I won’t go pick her up for at least an hour. I consider it her quiet time and my sanity time as well – I couldn’t write this post otherwise, I couldn’t enjoy a second cup of coffee or watch my beloved Greys Anatomy, I couldn’t read a book or reminiscence my wonderful mum fails.

There are so many but you know what? I am damn proud of them because they make me smile, they make me realise I am a good parent who is allowed to fail miserably from time to time. I am that parent who will let her child scream and roll over while laughing and assuring her she won’t get anything by behaving like this (you know something – this actually worked. she had two tantrums like this and she stopped. i laughed at her and she got nothing out of it so she decided to change the drama).

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I am just a normal mum with ups and downs, the one who treasures all memories and laugh at her wonderful mum fails.



Coming from a country where Halloween is just something you see on TV and you recognise as an American celebration, made not think about it that much.

I moved to U.K. over seven years ago and I can tell you that I never went to a Halloween party and I never had to dress up for the occasion.

However, when you become a parent things change completely.

Because last year my daughter was quite small and also Halloween didn’t fall on a Nursery day, I made zero efforts on buying outfits.

This year, we are attending dance classes every Thursday and Tappy Toes decided on running a dress up competition for all kids. Although I still think Ruby is small and she won’t remember much I didn’t wanted to be the only mum with a kid showing up dressed in regular clothes.

Off I went to hit the shops in look for a nice outfit so my little one can look so adorable for the day.

I started this Halloween thing way too late as most stores were out of stock on outfits. Whatever was left on the shelves could not meet my expectations. Ugly pumpkins for 18-24 months left, witched for over four year olds and Disney Store stocked the only the classic Belle, Moana and Elsa costumes, smallest size being a 3-4. However, they seemed so big, Ruby would have been able to wear them in about 2 years time.

Walking around and looking for an outfit didn’t seem like an easy job anymore but a mission impossible.

On Monday I was already set on skipping the dance class and that was that. I couldn’t find anything and taking my daughter without a costume was a big no no.

On Tuesday I went to work and randomly went inside M&S so I thought “Why not?” I got to the kids section and started looking through the dragon baby outfits and pirate girls – I would have loved that but the stock left was for over 6 year olds so I turned my back disappointed and ready to leave. But the gods were on my side and I noticed two cute outfits that would have been perfect for my Ruby: a butterfly and a unicorn.

What would a two year old choose? 🤔

Of course it was the Unicorn as we had the unicorn wellies at home and the outfit was just adorable.

Needless to say Ruby worn the skirt and headband around the house, out shopping and she would have gone bed with if I wouldn’t have been so smooth in taking them off. My choice has been a complete success.

Thursday we went to dance classes and my little one so proud of herself and danced through the thirty minutes like a champion.

We are not going Trick or Treating this year but promise the one to follow will be our first.


Did you know that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage? Among women who know they are pregnant, it is estimated that 1 in 6 pregnancies end in miscarriage. The majority of miscarriages happen in the first trimester – about 3 in every 4 miscarriages happen during this period.
But it’s just a statistic or just a number if it didn’t happen to you because the loss, the pain – physically and mentally, the psychological impact of a miscarriage is impossible to describe in words. A woman who just lost her unborn child is expected to get back on her feet and move on like she just had a strong period cramp that lasted few hours – yes! This is how a miscarriage os described – A BAD PERIOD CRAMP
It pains me writing it but it is reality. A miscarriage is a taboo subject. It’s just something so personal that we are not even allowed to talk about. We hide under the blanket hoping the feeling will go away because admitting what happened implies that society will see you as half a woman. You are not able to do what women are doing for millions of years. You are not hole. You are just half a mother. Your body is just faulty, not being able to carry a pregnancy to term. You see yourself as damaged, incomplete and broken.
A miscarriage is not a bad period cramp. It is a tragedy, it is a painful process and every woman who is going through such a horrible experience should be left to grieve, should be left to act as insane as she is acting, without being judged or condemned. The mental impact of a miscarriage is absolutely scarry.
As this week marks the BABY LOSS AWARENESS WEEK, I want to raise awareness of what a miscarriage is, of the impact a miscarriage has on our lives and try and
help women out there who go through such a nightmare.
You might say my story is one in a million of similar stories and it will just be read by few people out there. They will feel sorry for me and move on with their lives and nothing will actually change. But, I say that if my one story can reach one mother who is grieving now and feels lost and losing her mind, it means that I have done something, and I have helped someone realise that she is not alone, that despite reality, someone out there completely understands what she is going through.
I would be so happy knowing I have helped one mother out there and it will definitely help me smile and have peace in my heart.
Although some time passed, I still grieve my unborn child. I still swallow my tears when I get email notifications from all websites I subscribed when I found out I was expecting (I did unsubscribed from them but somehow, a random email still pops into my inbox), I still hate parents who shout and hit their children.
I still blame myself and wonder what have I done wrong? Did I have more coffee than I should have? Have I been too stressed? Have I done too much trying to prove myself I am strong even if pregnant? Didn’t I want this child enough? What have I actually done wrong?
I still have moments when I blame the world for what happened, trying to find an answer to a question that will never ever have one.
I still hate those doctors who raised their shoulders in defeat when I asked “why?” I wanted to scream in pain and punch them in the face when all they could say was: “We still don’t know why these things happen. We think it’s just the body reacting to an anomaly” So, I was not pregnant, I was only carrying an anomaly and it was just a matter of time until I would just eliminate it and be expected to move on with my life.
But reality is not this. Reality is the one I and every women who suffered a miscarriage feeling. The reality is crying yourself to sleep and waking up feeling empty; the reality is feeling angry at the world and yourself, wanting to die, questioning every second of your life and wondering what have you done wrong, asking yourself what sins are you paying for in this life. The reality is holding on to a baby cloth and smelling it like it will magically make things better or carry you in a virtual world where pain is unknown. Reality is feeling that void every second of every hour of every day of your life, having sadness wrapped around you like a blanket and holding you so tight you can barely breath. Reality is not feeling complete for the rest of your life, feeling guilty for trying to live, for smiling or enjoying the smallest things, feeling guilty for you stopped crying after months of sorrow.
Few months ago I wrote a post about how I was almost gone. That was just the physical part of a miscarriage. That was the part that passed and was the least painful.
The worst part is having people tell you that you are ok, telling you you can adopt and you can always have other children like this is ment to make you feel better. It actually makes me angry and makes me want to scream and shout because they got no clue what a miscarriage feels like. They talk for the sake of talking, thinking one child can replace the loss of another.
I am angry at the world for not understanding that this is one of the hardest and most painful experiences a parent can go through, for not allowing us to grieve for as long as it takes and for not offering support, for making it a taboo subject in a society that claims to be able to speak openly and freely about everything.
I am hoping that at least one of all readers of this post will be able to raise awareness by joining the virtual Wave of Light. Take a photo of your candle and post it to Facebook, Twitter or Instagram using #WaveOfLight at 7pm local time on the 15th of October.
Wherever you do this, you will be joining a global ‘Wave of Light’ in memory of all the babies who lit up our lives for such a short time.
For more ways to raise awareness and get involved, please click the link
To order your special pink and blue pin click on here or here