When your children are small, it’s easy to shield from the news as all you have to do is turn Cbeebies on and a bit of Mr Tumble or whatever will distract them.

By the time they get to high school age, and 11 going on 12, it’s a bit harder to police.

Take the atrocities by murdering terrorist groups in the news this week.

“People got shot on a beach in Tunisia. Why?” is what I was asked.

How do you answer why when you can’t fathom the motive yourself?

People went on holiday, and never came home.

A blogger excitedly tweeted “Definitely leaving in like three hours and definitely am not finished packing.”

All excited for her upcoming getaway, only to never return home on a madman’s actions.

It could have been anyone of us, sending out an unwitting final tweet before going and sunning ourselves on our holidays.

I don’t know why it happened. Does any sane person capable of rational thinking?

The only answer you can give, which is what I did is this…

11 year old: “People got shot on a beach in Tunisia. Why?”

“I don’t know. Anyone normal and thinking right can’t understand either. It’s a case of “this is what I believe in. If you don’t believe in the same thing then you’re getting shot. It’s stupid.”

11 year old – “Exactly. Completely stupid.”

Think that says it all really.

When you read an article in a national newspaper about how children can’t be shouted at, or praised, you start to despair a little bit.

Why the hell not? If they’re being little shites, then they need to be pulled up on it. How else are they going to learn?!

Likewise when they’re achieving, and doing well. Shouldn’t they be told so that they’re proud of what they’ve been doing?

Not much of an incentive to behave if they don’t get recognised for it anyway.

I take umbrage with this, too. “Discipline is not the only unusual policy at the school. In 2012 it broke with the tradition of having playtime and lunch at fixed times. Instead the pupils and staff decide among themselves when to take a break. And in some weeks pupils are given hot chocolate and bacon butties for breakfast as part of Mrs Tomlinson’s drive to create a ‘comfortable’ environment.”

Who’s running the show? The teachers or the pupils?! Balls to whether they want their break time earlier or not, or  fancy a bacon butty. They’re there to LEARN.

There’s no wonder there’s such terrible incidents hitting the mainstream media lately about teachers being attacked if there’s crap like this going on.

No boundaries, no sense of consequence. No wonder they feel like they can do what the hell they like.

Children NEED safe, secure boundaries and to know right from wrong. Not be shielded from any consequences to actions and to go through life doing whatever the chuff they like as they’ve never know any different.

Schools that think otherwise need to buck up and sort themselves out.

What do you think?

Schooldays have always been brightened up by the thought of a class day out, or if you’re lucky, a residential trip for a few nights away.

I have fond memories of going on a week long residential the first year of high school to an outdoor pursuits centre, which involved activities such as abseiling off viaducts, caving, and canoeing.

There was also a year trip to France for a lucky few in the third year (drawn out of a hat so not everyone got to go.)

So far, so good. France is far away enough to feel like a proper holiday, and you get to visit a different country without being too far from home.

Now, though? Like everything else, (proms, anyone?! ) schools seem to be having to go one better, one bigger, and more ostentatious.

Not content with jaunts to France, some schools are laying out trips to places like Barbados.

Barbados. I ask you. Nothing wrong with Barbados, I’d love to go there – but since when did school trips start to go halfway across the world and cost more than a family holiday?!

Trip of a lifetime, that. Not a school jaunt.

Ours can go to Australia in one of the years.  Literally the other side of the world. On what planet is that a reasonable school trip?! I dread to think how much that would cost.

They’re busy fundraising for it right now. Tip – if the place you want to go to costs so bloody much that you have to fundraise for it, maybe you’re going a tad too far. Back up a bit and have a think.

Flying high school kids nearly 11,000 miles is a little bit very excessive.

Maybe they need more parents to stand up and say “hang on, do you think we go into the garden and pluck money off the money tree, or produce it from our arse?!”

Maybe then we might get a semblance of normality in all the craziness.

What do you think? Excessive, or fun?

Let us know via the comments and tell us where the furthest place your school goes for school trips!

Summer’s getting nearer, and as a result our thoughts are turning to places to visit with the children on a summer holiday.

Holidays here are usually UK campsite type ones with entertainment on tap (we personally love a bit of Haven. Can’t beat a bit of Rory the Tiger to entertain you!)

These come with huge static caravans with their own bedrooms, bathrooms etc.

For some unfathomable reason though, the Dad’s thoughts have started to turn towards the idea of camping.

With a tent. Between the four of us. Would they settle down? Would they chuff.

A separate tent just for them? Even worse.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a bit of camping.

I have many a fun memory of Guides camping trips where we all sang “Ging Gang Goolie” round the campfire, and “Oh you’ll never get to heaven in a baked bean tin, as a baked bean tin’s got baked beans in….”

(I’m mindfully ignoring the fact I got splattered with pee once having to cart the portable toilet across the field to be emptied. How to traumatise an 8 year old. I’ll keep my rose tinted specs on and forget that bit.)

I also remember sniggering and running across to other tents in the middle of the night and pulling out tent pegs just for the laugh of it with some others.

Then running back to the tent, diving into the sleeping bags and sending up fake pretend snores and waiting for the shouts when it twigged what we’d done.

Oh, the japes.

Which is why it pains me to think that camping with our two would be a ballache.

We may harbour thoughts of singing songs round a campfire, toasting marshmallows in the embers and waking up refreshed to the sounds of birdsong.

When the harsh reality is the fact that they’re related to ME and might turn out to be little camping s***s who run feral at night time, and we’re so deranged from lack of sleep we want to shoot the blasted birds for daring to sing and wake us up when we’ve only just nodded off.

Do you camp? Do yours behave and I’m worrying unnecessarily?! Or would yours be likely to run amok too….

When I first started blogging, it was just as an outlet for the thing I love doing most in the whole world – writing!

I didn’t think anyone would ever read my spoutings. I knew my mum would. Although I thought she’d be my only reader.

To be honest, I didn’t mind, as at the time of starting the blog, it was just somewhere to write.

People actually READING it were seen as an actual bonus. :-)

Which is why I’m a bit shell shocked at being nominated in both Blog of The Year Category and Best Writer category.

It’s nice to know my witterings are getting an audience.

I couldn’t have dreamt that 5 years later, I’d still be blogging, and actually getting opportunities, a whole blogging  community, and social media followers out of it.

If you’ve ever read my blog, and anything’s ever resonated with you or touched a chord (or even if it hasn’t, heck, do it anyway) I’d love a vote in the Best Writer or Blog of The Year category  (or both please  shameless  )

There’s a badge thataway entitled Mads Blog Nominate Me……….> at the right hand side of the blog.

If you could click on it and nominate me I’d be eternally grateful.

I can send virtual cake and wine.

Thank you! :-) (Especially if you’ve read this far and not fallen asleep. Stop snoring at the back.)

When you think the world can’t get any more bonkers, you stumble across news articles that make you scratch  your head and laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all.

The latest one to do this for me is this news that the NHS has set up an exercise boot camp for overweight children and toddlers in an attempt to drive down soaring childhood obesity rates.

Children are meant to have a little bit of puppy fat.

However, after saying that, if a small, toddling child is so frighteningly overweight that they’re deemed needing to attempt a kiddy fat camp, surely it’s the parents who need to attend classes seeing as they’re the one feeding and exercising them?!

It’s a pretty sad state of affairs if the NHS feels the need to set up million pounds initiatives to encourage toddlers to play with balls and balloons.

Parents should be doing that anyway, there shouldn’t be a need for an intervention.

Every parent knows that exercise is good for children, surely. If they weren’t bothered before to go out to parks, play football, etc, are they suddenly going to start because they’ve been told to?!

Exercise costs nothing and kids like nothing better than to run around if given half the chance.

As for getting the parents to read food labels, if you’re going to educate them, why stop there?! Give them cooking lessons as well and teach them how to cook from scratch with wholesome ingredients.

Teach them to say no to requests for endless snacks, unless it’s healthy ones. Unlimited access to the fruit bowl, and offer breadsticks, crudites, rice cakes if they need a snack.

Restrict chocolate to a once a week treat instead of everyday occurrences.

Toddlers shouldn’t be sent to boot camp. If anyone should be, it’s the parents of the extremely  overweight children.

What do you think?

Let me know via the comments box! :-)

To the untrained eye, a games console such as the Wii or Playstation is a fun pastime to keep the children happy and occupied.

To the more initiated though, they’re a torture device with some kind of mind warping facility that can render the most placid of children into rabid, foul mouthed demon monsters.

They’ll lull you into a false sense of security by being lovely and calm, so you let them turn it on for a nice game of FIFA football or whatever.

Then halfway through the game, if you so much as dare to say something to them, their language has changed beyond all recognition.

It’s morphed from English into some kind of grunt that only apes and chimpanzees would have a chance of understanding.

“We’ll be going out in a bit. So another ten minutes and then turn it off.”


<ten minutes later>

“Turn it off now, your time’s up.”


After a while of going round in circles, you end up unplugging it at the wall because they just won’t turn off the bloody thing. (Don’t worry, they won’t be in the middle of a game. They’ll have finished that, and just be doing something VITALLY important such as farting around choosing someone different for their team.)

To which you’ll get a round of Kevin The Teenager type wailings.

“It’s so UNFAIR! I HATE you! You’ve ruined my LIFE!”

Stomp, stomp crash.

Whatevs, Kev.

Even the innocent Mario Kart isn’t immune from a bit of sibling rivalry.

Mario, you see is a two player game which means they can both play together at the same time racing each other round the track.

Which you’d think would be all nice and lovely.

Nope, it just means that you get a double helping of bratty behaviour instead.

Two lots of “ugg” if you say anything.

Or whinging. “He’s deliberately driving in front of meeee!”” “Make him STOP!”

“Waaah!!” or some such rubbish.

Give. Me. Strength.

Not to mention the complete attitude and back chat you get for the hour or so after you’ve turned the blasted consoles off.

It’s like their personalities have been changed.

A recent experiment saw me unplug all consoles (Wii, Playstation) and hide the Nintendo DS’s so they can’t play on them either.

One whole week of absolute bliss and nice, calm children.

The minute they got plugged back in though? All hell broke loose.

So this is why they’ve been unplugged for weeks now, as it makes for a much more calm environment.

So are they getting plugged back in?

It’s bliss.


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