He's Turned.

Apologies readers, Manic house move has prompted an online silence but I just had to pop on and let you know the  news that Mr G has turned.

It is an emotional struggle putting my finger tips to the keys and typing the sentence of doom. Every key tile pressed upon, forces me one step closer to the gut wrenching reality that I am now officially living with a teenager.

*Enters world of Harry Enfield, ginger hair and baseball caps’*

I’m not totally unprepared though because as it is well documented here at Diary Of A Premmy Mum, Mr G has been practising teenagerism in the lead up to this day for months. It’s just now it is official.

On the positive side, from today, I can explain away undesirable verbal goings -ons with the  raising of ones eyebrows and quietly uttering ‘teenagers’ under my breath with a bit of a sigh.

To mark the occasion I let Mr G have a party in our new house. That’s got to be the best way to introduce ourselves to the new neighbours…right?

High sugar nibbles and energy drinks were the cringeworthy theme, but what can you do if you dont want to look like the saddest mum on the block?..it was a party after all. (Cringe again)

So why was I surprised when at two in the morning the youth were still jumping around like loons, the only respite from this roudy behaviour being the intermittent periods of  lap top engagement or temporary engrossment of xbox/ play stations or other unknown sorts of gaming paraphernalia.

Inevitably, we had to separate the party up  in the early hours when noise levels reached an all time high and one unlucky teenager faced the ultimate punishment – a night in Roo’s fairy bed!

Who would believe this Premmy Mum could be soooo cruel?

Which one slept under the princess canopy ??

My name is Leanna and I am currently a full time- stay -at home Mum to Mr. G and Baby-Roo (Smidge) We live in a lovely farmhouse in Devon with my long term partner and soon- to -be hubby Stephen. Our home is beautifully nestled in a tarmacked field, the chickens being the only living survivors of a capitalist overhaul. In this diary I offer a personal account of what it is like to have a baby born at 25 weeks gestation,weighing in at a teeny 1lb 7oz. Watch this space and see me scribble about our everyday muddles and struggles. Share my funniest thoughts, my silliest ideas and all my ranty ramblings as the aftermath takes hold and corrupts my fragile mind….