When the baby was a tiny baby, the toothless, your boobs are my kingdom kind of tiny, I agonized over going back to work. Yes, I was ready to engage in thinking that didn’t purely involve remembering if I shampooed with actual shampoo instead of conditioner, in the off chance I had ...
Memories are tricky things. They can either pull you down dark rabbit holes or lift you up to the skies on warm clouds of sugar, spice and everything nice. Make-up memories generally tend to belong to the latter, but they’re also in a special, coming of age category of their own. Some of ...
“Mummy Beauty?” I hear you asking. “What is that?” Do you understand it’s not even 8 am, we’ve already applied entire tubes of concealer and we’re still looking like hungover pandas? Please, sister. When you put those two words together, mummy and ...
It was Mother’s Day. The morning was off to a promising start despite the twisted irony of British Summer Time screwing with what was possibly a mother’s most undeniable right to have a lie-in in the whole year. The baby _ he’s three but we’ll go with baby _ came into ...
Dear Son, I am afraid of spiders. I am afraid of cockroaches, mean looking dogs and dark alleys. I don’t like it when people shout, I feel lost a lot of the time and 8 times out of 10 I still need my mother to tell me it’s going to be OK. I am what […]
It’s been that kind of winter. Just before Christmas, all the excessive food consumed was ok because we were “leading up to Christmas” and it was getting nippy. During Christmas, well, duh. And after Christmas how could you justify throwing out perfectly good brandy cream, ...
Last week was a tough one. The wheels of the crazy carriage were well and truly spinning at never before seen speeds _ work was at an intensity level where all sorts of nuclear buttons were being pushed, the house and its menacing trifecta of clutter, laundry and kid crumbs was threatening to ...
I don’t know about you but bad meatballs really piss me off. If they’re mushy like reconstructed toothpaste, hard as floorboards or packing the flavour equivalent of a washcloth, they have the potential to get me sulking, angry at the cook, for a whole day. This means I have often ...
A couple of weeks ago I decided to take a one day break from the rat race and have a grown-up meal with my partner at an actual restaurant. Afterwards, buoyed by the experience of having delicious food that wasn’t cooked in stop and start mode while the 3 year-old threw Lego into the pot, ...
It’s here. Valentine’s Day. The day most of us love to hate and hate to love. I’ll admit it, I’ve been a hater for pretty much forever. Red hearts, plush toys, overpriced flowers, the naffness of it all and the pressure to show someone you care when that should not come ...
