Pass the wine

Motherhood is HARD. I mean, it’s amazing and fills me with so much more joy than I ever thought possible. But at the same time, waking up before 5.30 for months on end, then preparing entertainment to keep a little boy amused for 5 minutes whilst I make breakfast, then fighting said little boy who … More Pass the wine

The sleep conundrum

I’ve collected a vast quantity of beakers over a year as I tried to encourage Squeak to drink water, then cow’s milk. They served mainly as elaborate items to be thrown at the cat. I searched high and low for the perfect beaker, read endless reviews, listened as another health visitor told me how he … More The sleep conundrum

My Terry Nappy Story

I was the person least likely to opt for reusable nappies. Yet I did. Why? The answer is easy. It wasn’t because I was especially environmentally conscious, or because we were on a money saving mission. It was ultimately because Squeak appeared to have particularly powerful bowels and I was left flabbergasted by his exploding poos. Every item … More My Terry Nappy Story

Let me eat cake

On this beautiful unexpectedly warm September’s day I left the house with a knot of despair bubbling up in my stomach. It grew and grew and even watching Squeak jump up and down in his pushchair as he saw a double decker bus couldn’t lift my spirits. I felt every sad moment of my life … More Let me eat cake

The Gift of Giving

I used to marvel at my mum, wrapping presents at Christmas. She used string and rulers to cut the paper into a razor straight line (scissors were far too messy) and each parcel was neatly finished, with bows and frills, cards filled in with her impeccable handwriting. I took after my dad’s school of wrapping. … More The Gift of Giving

Cooking Anxiety

There are certain situations where I have to take a minute to calm my beating heart and steady my breath. Cooking, anything, is one of them. There is a voice screaming in my head “NAPTIME IS NEARLY OVER YOU IDIOT!” which pushes me to overreact, adrenalin pumping through my veins. “I repeat, you are not … More Cooking Anxiety