You Can Have Nice Things Or You Can Have Children

I’ll be the first to admit I’m somewhat klutzy, it runs in the family. It’s rare though that I actually ruin anything nice. I have noticed since having a child though, that the old adage “This is why we can’t have nice things” has really come home to roost.

Here are just a few of the nice things that I had that have been pretty much ruined by a small person who shall remain nameless.

The Sofa

Oh, sofa my sofa. My favourite place in the house. Curled up, reading or telly watching or cuddling. Arse groove perfected during pregnancy (the additional weight really helped). Leather lovely and smooth and soft. Now it’s just gone to pot. The leather is scuffed and stained (the mug rings are *probably* my fault) There was that awful wee-and-vomit-simultaneously incident that leaked all down the gap. I find a months worth of manky crumbs down the back which even my henry hoover baulks at sucking up. It’s past its best and we are frankly too scared to buy a new one only to see it destroyed in similar style.

Our Bed

Not only have the springs gone due to the endless bouncing (don’t make me laugh – it’s not US bouncing the springs, chance would be a fine thing) but all my lovely bed linen has weird stains all over it. I was truly afraid at first as to what precisely the stains were, but I’m now 98.9% sure it’s chocolate rather than anything else unmentionable. My dreams of a Pinterest perfect bed, destroyed.

My iPad

Yes, MY iPad, the one I hinted after for months and months and was jammy enough to finally get. It was so sleek and shiny. Now it’s encased in an unwieldy rubber contraption, which delights in making my cry when I’m just trying to squeeze the fucking thing back on the sodding tablet. The screen is a disgustingly crusty, sneeze splattered health hazard. It’s full of really crap games of park-the-boat and cross the road/get squashed apps. It’s never got any bloody battery left either. My phone isn’t much better since we got addicted to Pokemon.

My Clothes

My entire person seems to have been reimagined as some sort of giant towel. Grubby hands wipe themselves down my trousers. A food-covered face is waist height, and regularly gets rubbed on my tops. Being a disorganised wench, I never have wipes or tissues on me, so I often have to resort to using my own sleeves to wipe away tears (or worse) So there’s no point in wearing nice things, I would have to spend my life running away shrieking “THIS ISN’T FROM PRIMARK, DON’T TOUCH ME!”

My Husband

He used to be young and fun and handsome. Now he’s just gone a bit…withered…

Hahahaha, OK that last one is a joke (and a test to see if he ever actually reads anything that I write) but in fairness, little people do have a knack for wrecking everything they encounter (starting off with their mothers body parts!) What treasured possession have you had smashed in by a rampaging toddler? Have you been forced to relocate everything to a shelf at least 6 feet off the ground?

Face to favourite shirt splat happening in 5…4…3…
Life Love and Dirty Dishes

19 thoughts on “You Can Have Nice Things Or You Can Have Children

  1. So true and we’ve often said thank God we have a leather sofa with the amount of times poppy has puked on! I rarely do my hair anymore either as she’ll only pull it, suck it or dribble in it! #chucklemums

  2. Fully agree with ALL of these (even the husband one haha!). Other things that have been ruined by my child: our lovely wallpaper, the cat (who deteriorated rapidly after he started getting chased by a toddler and we had to have him put to sleep at the start of the year), my eyes (THE WRINKLES HOLY CRAP) and finally my music tastes, which now run to anything that will please a rampaging threenager. Great post #chucklemums

  3. Oh this is us all over. I gave up a long time ago with wipe rummaging and just say ‘wipe your hands on my trousers’. I’ve decided that my clothes, like my sofa, will be replaced when my children are old enough to not be so grubby. My ipad is just back from the repair shop…it got hit by a surprisingly weighty toy hammer, i may have cried. Thanks for hosting #chucklemums

  4. Ha ha ha. This is so true. I feel exactly the same about my things – I remember the time my house used to seem lovely and sparkling – now it’s a sh&thole. Especially the sofa. I hate our suite with a passion, covered in milk stains and vom stains. And as for my lovely clothes 🙁 #chucklemums

  5. Yes to the iPad and iPhone being encrusted in something otherworldly. Also, my walls have a layer of filth at toddler height throughout our entire domain. The car interior will never be the same again. On the plus side, if I ever get trapped in it, I can survive for weeks on raisins and cheerios! Bloody kids! #chucklemums

  6. I am wholeheartedly with you on the clothes thing! I might as well just wear a shit t-shirt and joggers every day. And wear no make-up, as sticky little hands smudge that too. And suck my hair. And yank at my earrings. #chucklemums

  7. My slightly twee seasidey scatter cushions! They are never on the freakin sofa. They mysteriously jump off and gather dust/food debris/mud from the wooden floor and get used as a bloody football. #chucklemums

  8. Sadly, we never had any nice stuff to begin with… it is mostly other people’s precious things that our children manage to destroy. Now they are 5 and 8, I am considering some matching bedding and curtains for our room, but this will probably be the kiss of death. #chucklemums

  9. Not just me that has to do a quick “snot check” on my outfit before I leave the house then? My two are very effective ruinators of all the things. Our carpets are in desperate need of replacement but there is not a hope in hell that we’re doing it until the littlest one is potty trained. Possibly at Uni. #Chucklemums x

  10. This is totally me too, except that I live in my mother’s house while my own stuff goes mouldy in a damp garage. This means I now have to endure daily shrieks from my mother about how Piglet has destroyed her new kitchen by ramming the units with a baby walker. #chucklemums

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