Who The Hell Is Raisins? – This Mum’s Life

Who The Hell Is Raisins?


Date: Sometime mid pregnancy (first time around)

Dear Diary, I’ve made a friend! Another pregnant person, due at the same time as me! This is exciting, maybe I won’t be postnatal and alone after all. She seemed just on the right side of crazy, but her heart was well and truly in the right place. (She said she had no time for people who drank caffeine, used stretch mark cream, ate chocolate, or gained weight during pregnancy.) She said all of those things would definitely harm your baby, and anybody who did those things were basically sick and didn’t deserve to be parents. I threw my stretch mark cream straight in the bin (but I’m going to ask the midwife about the other things, I’m hoping that she won’t arrange for my baby to be taken away from me though, immediately after delivery, if she knows I’ve eaten chocolate??) All this is overwhelming Diary. I’ll leave it there for today.
Signed: Excited soon-to-be first time mum!

Date: Sometime near the end of pregnancy (first time around)

Dear Diary, my new friend told me that she had been reading all this research, and apparently, you should never let a raisin near a child once it is old enough to eat them. Apparently, they will cause immediate tooth rot. She said that people who feed their children raisins, fall into the same category for her, as those eat chocolate and use stretch mark cream. I told my super cool friend R, (another fab friend from antenatal class! I’m winning at this making friends shizzle!) about the raisins story, to get her opinion. She said she has no time for this bullshit, and only now only refers to this girl as Raisins. I have to say Diary, the name has stuck. I’ve only got a week to go now Diary, until maternity leave! Then that will leave me a week and a half till D-Day. But Raisins said I should work until my due date. She said you’re lazy if you don’t, because there’s no reason not to. But I’ve been struggling since 7 months, I sometimes work 14 hour days, with no break, and no chance to sit down. I told her I thought I might die if I stayed until my due date, but she looked disappointed in me.
Signed: Waddling heffalump, getting extremely fed up.

Date: A few weeks after the bomb has dropped…

Dear Diary, I have my baby! And he is beautiful, and I’ve never known love like it. But also, I’m scared. I’m crying all the time, and I live in fear someone will snatch him from the pushchair when I’m out with him. I’m frightened all the time. Raisins pitied me because I had an epidural (I didn’t pity me, I only pity that I didn’t ask for it sooner than hour 24 of the back-to-back, no progression, agonising nightmare that was getting the baby out. That thing was worth its weight in gold.) But Raisins said pain relief is for the weak, and that I must feel like I totally let myself down. My body has let me down miserably though, Diary. My milk didn’t come in, and I’m bottle feeding the baby. Raisins wondered if I felt awful for the poison I was subjecting my baby to. She said she’d rather buy breast milk from the internet than use formula. I feel uncomfortable getting my bottles out around her. She also wants me to join her in a schedule to get fit. She said she went back to the gym before her tears had healed, and while the entire worlds periods were still pouring from her body, because she said there is nothing more shameful than being fat for longer than a week post birth. I must admit diary, I’m starting to think Raisins is a bit of a dick.
Signed: A very anxious, postnatal wreck, who could do with support, not judgement.

Date: Sometime mid pregnancy (second time around)

Well Diary, I’m pregnant again! And baby number one is weaned! We still hang out with Raisins, but it’s getting more and more stressful to be around her. She will never meet anywhere that doesn’t do strictly organic food, so we are limited. She says that children only thrive on strictly organic, home made food. I have to remember to shove my Ellas Kitchen pouches into a plastic container, when I’m going to meet her, to pass them off as my own. But she tries to catch me out, by asking me for recipes, and complicated questions about ingredients I use. She is going to rumble me Diary! And my status as Shit Mother of the Year will be known by all.
Signed: I have loads of other friends, why am I taking this bollocks?

Date: Fairly recently…

So Diary, we went to meet Raisins, AND her husband. Mr W wasn’t keen, he said if Raisins’ husband was anything like her, the meeting would be a disaster. But I’m still hoping my initial impressions were right, and somewhere in there is a good person. But Raisins and her husband basically report you to the police if you give your children juice. My children will only drink juice. There was a heart stopping moment where Mr W forgot what I’d briefed him, and ordered the children a juice in the café we were in. I averted Raisins and her husband making a citizens arrest, by intercepting the waiter, and changing the order to water. Raisins’ husband berated Mr W for giving baby 2 a taste of his bacon. He said the salt would kill him. This went down as I suspected, like a lead frigging balloon. You do not berate Mr W unless you are an actual friend of his, and most importantly, unless you are joking. Then the shit really hit the fan when child one dropped us in it by mentioning the chocolate bribe we had used to get him in the car to meet them… Raisins made her stance clear on this, by laying into me for not doing any Halloween activities with the children (we painted and carved melons, I didn’t realise only crap parents tried to ask for pumpkins on actual Halloween.) She felt the children would need therapy for not having been given the appropriate amount of Halloween themed enrichment activities. I have to say Diary, I think I’m fucking done with Raisins.
Signed: Someone who can’t take this shit anymore!

Date: Right now!

Dear Diary, I have some questions about Raisins…
Do you think I loathe her because I actually envy her Supermum power, and want to be her?
Do you think Raisins is just really insecure, and uses others to quash her insecurities?
Do you think my postnatal mentalist self, made Raisins up?
Is Raisins a figment of my imagination?
Do you have a Raisins in your life?

Thanks for reading!


Run Jump Scrap!

Run Jump Scrap!



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