I’m not keeping up with the Joneses


No perfection in our house!

I’m a tad obsessed with social media. I use Twitter mostly for sports news, following sports writers and sports people, while I use Facebook on a more personal level. In the last two years I’ve started to get to grips with Instagram, an online mobile photo sharing site for those of you not familiar with it. 

I love Instagram for all things baby and children. I follow fellow mammy’s, children’s clothing stores and stores specialising in nursery interiors and so on and so forth. Mammy bloggers, or mummy bloggers as they call themselves, are all over Instagram, some with hundreds and thousands of followers. They, some not all mind you, have perfect hair, perfectly groomed children, interior designed and spotless houses and they holiday on exotic islands. Unlike us Chambers’ who went to the exotic Aran Islands last year on our holliers!

Now I’m not silly enough to believe that life is perfect for the above sort; we all know we can project exactly what we want on social media but what I wonder about is how the hell do (some of) these yummy mummies get their children to give off that sense of perfect.

Instagram is all about great pictures with white backgrounds and baby socks from some Scandinavian designer that cost €40 for one sock not even the pair! I personally don’t buy designer baby gear, Next or Zara is about as fancy as it comes for Aidan and Sarah but for the craic I tried taking the perfect pictures of my pair on many occasions. Here’s how it went ….

First up I tried finding a crisp white background but failed. My hall is painted white but I couldn’t find a spot that isn’t covered in little black finger prints and red pen. I have a white duvet cover in my spare room but the day I tried that Aidan jumped on it with his shoes on having been out in the garden ‘helping’ Daddy Chambers with cutting the grass.

That’s the thing; Aidan jumps, leaps and runs all the time so he has no interest in helping mammy take the perfect picture. Sarah has very recently started crawling but before that you’d think there might have been scope to catch the perfect shot on a day where the white duvet cover wasn’t covered in grass stains. Every morning I dress her in her non designer, non Scandinavian clobber and she looks only gorgeous. For about five minutes. She’s eleven months old for God’s sake. She’s teething and drool runs down her chin morning, noon and night. Then there’s the food stuck on her face after breakfast lunch and dinner and to be honest she’s finding it hard to shift the cradle cap anyway!

So I gave up on the perfect white background idea, instead I decided to take pictures of the two of them at home in our perfect home with amazing decor, where nothing is out of place while I bake the perfect cupcakes with Aidan’s assistance and zero mess!

As you can see I love a bit of sarcasm! We are living in our current home for three years but only six months of those three years were child free. When we moved in we bought some really fab furniture, painted the walls, put down new floors, put in a new kitchen and accessorised it. It was as perfect as we were going to get it on a budget.

Then came Aidan and all the s*ite that comes with having a baby. Sure the house was overloaded with stuff that didn’t match in with the colour scheme and two and half years on it’s even worse now. The dining room is like Smyth’s, there’s red permanent marker scribbled all over Daddy Chambers’ bedside locker and our white TV stand is fit for the bin after Aidan took the scart lead out of the back of the DVD player and dug it into the wood on more than one occasion.

Aidan’s room, instead of being Instagram worthy with a monochrome theme, is more like a cell in Cloverhill! It has a cot bed and a chest of drawers in it and a gate on the door to stop him escaping. That’s it. It used to be home to some toys and a lovely rocking chair but he started to use said chair as a means to scale over the stair gate and escape so now that’s fired in the corner of the spare room. In this instance spare room refers to a room which used to be perfectly made up for guests but now houses the stuff that we try and hide from Aidan. Who the hell wants to come and stay over in a house with two young kids in it anyway!

My bathroom doesn’t have a vintage free standing bath and Jo Malone candles dotted around it. Nope, our bath has a baby bath in it, one that Sarah doesn’t really use anymore but we haven’t got rid of it. It has a child-lock on the toilet seat to prevent Aidan throwing valuables down it; it has a child’s toilet seat and step in it in preparation for when my oldest decides he wants to bid farewell to nappies. Oh and just the other day it had a whole tub of Silcock’s Base pasted all over the floor. Yea, you guessed it – Aidan!

There’s a gammy blue plastic fish tank on the hall table that’s mostly full of algae stained water because Daddy Chambers can’t be arsed cleaning it out frequently enough, while our white kitchen chairs are decorated with dried in spaghetti bolognese, sweet potato and salmon.

So there you have it, I don’t fit in as a ‘Mammy of Instagram’. Anyone want to join my Instagram gang where the kids wear Pennys and the house is more keep it country than French country?!

Come see my imperfection on Instagram x

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