Category Archives: Silliness

Hey Brood

Sing to lyrics of Beatles- Hey Jude

Hey Brood, don’t make it bad
Take a sad woman and make her better
Remember to implant into her womb,
then you can start to make it better

Hey Brood, don’t be afraid
You were made to be a mother
The minute you avoid contraception,
then you’ll begin to make it better

And anytime you feel a pain,
hey Brood, refrain, and see a doctor
don’t carry the world upon your thing
For well you know that it’s a fool
who plays it cool
by stopping at two offspring

Hey Brood, don’t let me down
She has limited eggs left in her,
Remember to let him come in her vagina,
then you can start to make it better,
better better better

So let it out and let it in, ahem
hey Brood, begin,
The performance of making another baby
And don’t you know that it’s not just you,
hey Brood, form an orderly queue,
the movement you need is in your hips

Hey Brood, don’t make it bad
Take a sad mum and make her better
Remember to let her have another baby,
that you can start to make it better,
better, better, better, better,

Na na na nananana nananana hey Brood,
na na na nananana I’ll make Baby Brood
nananana hey Brood, hey Brood
Na na na nananana I’ll make Baby Brood,
nananana hey Brood, yeah
na na na nananana nananana oh yeah yeah yeah
Make it Brood

Hey Brood,
You have been hitting me gently since Omble was born about whether I want that third baby but today you got your sledgehammer out. Thanks to the return of my fertility a polite way of saying menstruation which has been mostly absent in the last 3.5years of four pregnancies (two successful) and breastfeeding, I am now in what I will affectionately call MEGABROOD as you can see from the fact I was sad enough to write my version of the song above. This is simply ridiculous, babies grow up, babies and toddlers are hard work, I don’t particularly like kids between the ages of 4-14, what the hell am I thinking!?

I know it is hormones as from now on each month I will lose another 40-50 of my precious remaining eggs (every month 40-50 are recruited to develop but all except one become atretic and die except for the precious one that makes it to burst forth from the follicle), but I am 30 potentially I have 10 or more fertile years left in me, I can’t imagine this is it, but I also can’t imagine doing it all again. I have been so lucky with my two and the thought of a third where something was wrong and having to make decisions around that and change our lovely little family dynamic is terrifying. Plus I really adore my job and thought of the affect of any more kids on my career is currently unthinkable.

So dear Brood you are causing quite the conundrums in my brain at the minute and I would be much obliged if you wouldn’t mind buggering off until Omble is at school by which time we might be in a position to possibly consider number three but I will not cope with 4years of MEGABROOD until then because I’ll just keep singing
tunelessly everyday whilst my ovaries scream every time I catch sight of a newborn. It’s no fun.
Just gimme a break for a bit ok? Or at the very least advise me on how to ignore you.

P.S I’m totally picturing you like this – that’s right Br Ood isn’t it?

Clutching a valuable egg just waiting to be fertilised……

Dear Fairy Nuff

Dear Fairy Nuff,


You always have been and always will be my favourite fairy.



Dear Femfresh

Dear Femfresh,

Have to say initially I laughed out loud reading this response to the facebook backlash to your product via @crazycolours. It took me an embarrasingly long time to realise this was a spoof response penned by the incredibly talented @Hollybrocks. Interesting to note that your Facebook page is currently AWOL.

So yeah even though this poetic response is not real I felt like responding as if it is because it’s either that or work on my job applications, so I am going to pretend to be “Offended of Roman Spa Town” and respond as a disgruntled feminist parent (however in my usual double standard way I am not going to berate for the use of the more offensive terms for the female genitals as I have come to the conclusion I have no problem with slang for body parts, I have a problem when that slang is used to describe things other than female genitals, which in this case it wasn’t.)

Being a “Wannabe Humourless Feminist” (Glosswitch beat me to it), I have decided to take issue with the response as it completely neglects to  address the fact that the product is actually irrelevant and unnecessary for vaginal health as I outlined here yesterday.  But I suppose that would be an even worse marketing campaign than Woo Hoo for your Frou Frou,  to point out that the product is utterly pointless and actually does more harm than good, so I expect that is why the spoofer (@HollyBrocks– brilliant superb amazing job) also omitted that crucial part to the response. (I wonder how Femfresh will actually ultimately respond- so far they have now responded by taking down the Facebook page!)

Being a wannabe humourless feminist mother, I did decide to take exception to part of the rhyme though. “Fuck mums and dads“- as I am a mum and I have written extensively about naming of genitals (here, here, here).  As a mum I have absolutely no problem with the correct scientific terms being used for the female reproductive organs for me and for my daughters. I refuse to euphemise them (although Oddler has euphemised “vulva” into “buddha“, but that’s okay she is only two!).  I think you may find many parents feel like me- a vagina, a vulva, a clitoris, the labia- parts of the body- nothing to be ashamed about and  we probably don’t appreciate being sworn at as part of a collective idea that all mums and dads are uncomfortable with the correct names of the genitals.  Many of us are quite comfortable with these terms, although I appreciate some are not but to be quite honest those parents need to get over themselves. IT IS A VAGINA- 51% of the worlds population has one. But that’s just something I felt the need to point out, as it made me cross, now I have to get my humourless feminist badge right? Please?

I can’t be the only mum in the world calling a vulva a vulva, a vagina a vagina, and a Spade, a diggywoowoo can I?

Yours Sincerely


Dear Procrastination

Dear Procrastination,

Today I am supposed to be working my socks off preparing for a big days work next week. Instead I thought I would write to you so I started this letter, but then I got distracted by FeedTheHead (for which I blame @prettylpeculiar).

So basically there is no hope for me is there?




Dear International Spy Oddler

Dear International Spy Oddler,

I am so excited you appear to be taking after your Grandfather (International Spy Dad).


Good at attempting to escape solitary confinement

Handy with weapons.

Always on phone sorting assignments.

Master of Disguise

and finally…..


“I shall say dis onlee once”

I can’t wait to see you grow up to be the most amazing feminist Bond the world has ever seen.

Lots of Love


P.S Currently you are staring in “OddlerCurd the Girl with The Golden Dummy” but hopefully tonight we have managed to get to to sleep without it. SpyGirls don’t have Dummies.

Dear Lucky Socks

Dear Lucky Socks,

Bloody hell  I have just discovered you have pulled a hat trick!  My friend who was having IVF is only pregnant with TRIPLETS!!! In fact possibly you were a bit too lucky, as she was only aiming for twins. I am keeping everything crossed for her.

Since I was 18 I have had a pair of lucky socks, I brought them after I split up from emotionally abusive fuckwit. They were yellow and black and had “Walking Disaster” on them- they made me smile. I passed my second driving test wearing them (it is no coincidence I failed the first one not wearing them- LUCKY innit.).  Unfortunately I have just gone for a rummage in my sock drawer, I can’t find them, in fact I haven’t seen them in a while. In fact I haven’t actually seen them since my life started going a little awry in the last three years, again clearly not just a coincidence. They were completely knackered and holey when I last saw them, I wonder where they are?

My lucky socks were amazing, when I was at university doing the laundry, I once came back to my room to find I now had three lucky socks! My lucky socks were breeding that is how incredibly awesome they were. A month or so later I discovered by complete coincidence my extra lucky sock actually belonged to the man I had a complete and utter all consuming crush on. Of all the people in my halls, it had to be him, and he also had a pair of my lucky socks! Obviously THIS WAS FATE! Sadly my crush (which lasted at least the 4 years of university so holds a record in my life as my longest ever crush!) was never reciprocated, but he became a close friend of mine, and in the end being a weirdo stalker type I couldn’t bear to part with my extra lucky sock so I brought him a new pair of the same type so we each had three walking disaster socks.

Since then I have had a bit of a thing about lucky socks.  A friend from work was going through IVF so I made her a pair of lucky socks- I got some plain socks and personalised them with fabric pen, and lo and behold she had a sucessful twin pregnancy. (In fact the unrequited crush also went onto have twins with his partner (now wife) so I’m pondering an ultra fertile multiple pregnancy lucky sock connection and um maybe I don’t want my own Lucky Socks to be found in case we have twins or more for #3!)

Since obviously those lucky socks did the IVF trick when another friend told me she was 5weeks  pregnant with IVF twins I immediately sent her another pair of lucky socks- “Little Miss Lucky”- sadly that pregnancy failed a day or two later but she rang me last week to tell me about the triplets- so clearly it is crucial the lucky socks are in place before the embryos.

So now I am reignited in my love for lucky socks. In fact if anyone reading this needs me to send them a Lucky Pair of Socks for IVF purposes, then email me LadyCurd@Gmail.Com and I will see what I can do. Obviously if I get completely inundated with sock requests then I probably can’t afford to help out but I am happy to pass on a few pairs to see if this lucky sock IVF sucess streak continues.  If nothing else it might make you smile while going through it, and I like making people smile. In fact if it works then maybe we can set up a lucky sock network. One day the world will be ruled by lucky socks.

Lots of Love


Dear Oddler’s Nursery Keyworker

Dear Oddler’s Nursery Keyworker,

Thank you so much for telling me Oddler banged her head while you were changing her nappy today, you clearly felt awful about it. I probably shouldn’t have said breezily “oh don’t worry about it at all, we’ve done far worse to her at home, she banged into a fireplace once” (thank heavens I chose that anecdote and not the time I accidental dislocated her elbow!). I was trying to make you feel better about accidentally bashing my daughter about, but given that you gave me the “possible child protection red flag” look then perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered!

One day I will learn to think before I speak. Anyhow rest assured there are no child protection concerns at Curd Hall, but I’m glad you are vigilant. I shall aim to actually brush Oddler’s hair and wash her face tomorrow so the “possible neglect” query gets erased. Oh and I had probably better not mention that tonight I fed her fromage frais that was a week out of date and didn’t chop up her grapes. Sigh.

Anyhow Oddler adores you, and thank you for being so lovely with her and please hold off the social services referral just yet.

Many thanks


P.S and I know last week she “sold” her shoes at nursery, but honestly it wasn’t to buy toddler crack (cake), or to support her family honest, apparently I misunderstood – she gave them to someone to hold and they got lost but her speech isn’t quite there yet- which is also why I thought tonight she had sat on the nursery’s baby chicks and not simply patted them. Just a misunderstanding.