Extreme Co-Parenting

Something that I have noticed we do these days is extreme co-parenting. It is certainly not your average co-parenting scenario.

I have to say, it’s something I struggled with in psychology. The guilt side of it. The fact I am not the be all and end all of my children’s lives. But is that really healthy?

Apparently, my concerns over this subject were unnecessary.

I think the phrase “it takes a village” came into play. And that phrase has more merit than people give it.

With the way we have to co-parent, it’s literally like the girls are being raised by a village.

Now that’s not to say if you are your child’s be all and end all that’s bad, because it most certainly is not. I envy you if this is you. But it just means that our own situation is not as damaging as I feared it was.

The girls have a network of people who love them dearly. They are never without someone to pick them up when they fall and to applaud when they fly.

Because of this extreme co-parenting, when things are hard at home, they have an escape with my own Mum and sister.

I cannot always be the ever present Mum. The hospital appointments and relapses mean sometimes I simply cannot be there.

But I have to trust the fact they have an army of other people ready to jump in when I am at my worst.

MS is a hard mistress. One who isn’t at all forgiving or thoughtful.

It doesn’t take my children into consideration.

So I have to make sure there are people there for them, the two most important people in my life.

I always feared this set up would somehow take away from me as a mother figure. But with my husband and family, we have made it work. We each play a role. A constant role, which is the most important aspect.

Kids need a constant.

All of us together, Ben, me, my Mum, my Dad, Cherry, and other family are all people who play a real role in the girls lives.

Together we have, so far anyway, shaped two incredibly bright and stable individuals who seem to take everything in their stride.

They don’t know any different.

This is their normal.

My psychologist was right, it does take a village sometimes, and it’s okay for me to be thankful for that.


I’m Having Trouble Detaching

Ninny’s op taught me something.

It taught me that I can be “that mum” The one who calms, comforts and looks into a beautiful but incredibly red and inflamed eye and sees the beauty and promises it will all be okay.

Because it will. I will make sure of it.


But now every time I look at her, especially when she gets sad, I see this.

Then I remember how I felt when I had to wrangle her to sleep. Each wriggle pulling her in closer, each cough wanting to smack the mask away.

Then I get all upset. Worried. Guilty.

I hate it when she’s not with me. It feels horrid. I want to know where she is and exactly what she is doing. If she’s okay. Happy.

I want to try and turn it off a little. Be less anal.

To let go of her hand and not feel that horrible pain I felt when I placed her poor little self on the bed.

I worry at every grumble, cry or itch.

I just want her to be okay. Happy. No more double vision or eye drops.

When I got up on Friday morning I felt for sure Daddy would be the chosen one for the day. He would be the hero as always. Cause he’s strong and brave.

But it was my turn. And now I can’t go back to “normal”


Would I Let My 16 Year Old Marry A 21 Year Old?

So I read an article at the weekend in the daily fail, as you do. It was about a 16 year old who had met and fallen for a 21 year old man whilst on holiday in Turkey with her family. She is now heading back to Turkey to marry said man, and obviously the trolls are out in force.

The headline was: So, would you let YOUR 16-year-old marry the barman she met on holiday? These parents did… and it’s tearing their family apart’

So naturally, loads of parents were saying how awful it is and how they would never let their daughter anywhere near the bloke in the first place, let alone marry him. Fair enough.

This would be great if teenage girls actually did as they were told. But lets face it, some just don’t. I was once 16, I did good things and I also did things I was told not to do, I think its just something young girls need to do.

I think when you ask someone of that age, boy or girl, not to do something, they then go above and beyond to try and do that very thing.

So for me, I think in this case, I would stand by my daughter. I would support her choices, however stupid. Because the more parents push them one way, the more they lean towards another.

Especially with matters of the heart.

So the more you dig your heels in, the further they run. And I for one wouldn’t want to see my child running away and getting married without me being their to catch her when she inevitably falls. Because chances are, she will.

That way I can still be there for her when she needs me. Instead of having chased her away with my views and opinions.

Granted being married at 16 is not what I want for either of my children, especially to such an older man. It is a young age to be married and they do still have their whole lives ahead of them.

But you do only live once. And marriage CAN be undone. Divorced by 17 may not be the best thing in the world, but there are far worse things to have to your name. 

Sometimes all we can do is watch them make mistakes, supporting a choice like this may not be ideal, but it will keep them close.

Parenting is not cut and dry. Mainly because children are not either.

So I ask you, what would you do?

Wee Wars…

We all know by now, as parents going to the toilet is more like a treat than something we have to do. I didn’t think it could get any worse, then wee wars began.

See, it was around 7pm, kids bathed and in bed, Hubby had taken the dogs for a walk, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to have a wee.

I made a break for it.

I could finally have a pee in peace.

I sit down, start the flow and low and behold I hear a “MUUUUUUUMMMM, I am coming down to have a toilet”

I inform her I am currently mid flow, and she will have to give me a minute or so. See my MS means I don’t always wee like a normal person, I sometimes take longer and need to fight with my bladder to make sure I am done. Or this will happen.

Anyway, she informed me she couldn’t possibly wait and needed to go right now, so I should get up and let her go?


I waited, I picked the perfect time, yet here I am being told I need to stop what I am doing, which is peeing and let the four year old with a stronger bladder go take over.

There are no words.



To make it worse, when Hubby arrived back, he simply walked in, shut the toilet door and did his thing. In peace.


I swear, from now on I am going to barricade the door and claim the toilet back.

Or at least I’ll try…… 

What Is With All The Homework?!

Seriously, what is with all the homework?

I mean, its not even for Pops, its for me! It also seems to come with the usual ‘homework pressure’ something I assumed I had left behind?!

Last week I forgot to send in the star. Truth be told I forgot all about the star. I know, I am a hideous Mother, how dare I right? This week I have made sure I have filled in the star, its in the bag ready to go, I am assuming its on time?!

Not that I even know I am doing it right?

To be perfectly frank, I tend to forget about the things she does and says that I know should go on the star. At the time I think “Ah-ha! This is star worthy” Then when it comes to writing on it, nothing. I try and write notes on my phone, however my note taking seems to have gone terribly wrong.

I am not sure me and the star will ever really get on together.

Then its the reading record.

I have learnt who Chip and Biff are, not that I know why you would call your daughter Biff or your son Kipper!? That was beyond me.

Anyway, I have done the flashcards until I am blue in the face, we are doing the books when we can, however I always forget to fill in the reading record. By the time we have finished our sit down, I am usually trying to wrangle a flashcard out of Beboos mouth.

Then someone, whether it be human or dog, is peeing on the floor, by this time, the reading record has been forgotten. Then I feel like a crap Mother when I remember I forgot, when Pops is walking into school.

Good timing…..

Anyone else snowed under with charts, records and governor letters?!

Parent SOS