I’ve always prided myself on having a “live and let live” attitude. Until someone does something which I find extremely annoying / questionable / offensive. And then “let live” goes out the window and I decide everyone should live along my code of life. Because I am always right, clearly.
When I became a mum I was shocked at how this attitude took itself to the next level. Mums who let their babies cry in the night – why? Mums who didn’t choose Baby-led Weaning – why not? Mums who were all competitive about their baby’s milestones – what’s the point? Continue reading
This time next week, we’ll be less than 24 hours away from some answers. Hopefully.
There are now only seven days between us and the hospital appointment which may shed some light on why my 21 month old daughter is still not walking. Or standing.
Since the referral I’ve flitted between absolute unerring hesitation that there is nothing wrong with my child, and the unquestioning certainty that, actually, there is a problem. Continue reading
I’m guest posting over on The Netmums blog today, as I help them launch their campaign for United Kindmums. This post is all about a random act of kindness I’ll never forget, which helped me through a difficult day of early motherhood.
It’s a dark, chilly October morning. I’m cold and feeling very low. My baby is crying because she’s tired and has the sniffles. I’m crying because I’m tired and have the sniffles. We both want to sleep.
The newborn bubble has well and truly burst. My beautiful daughter has reached four months and, while I love her so fiercely it makes my heart physically ache, I am exhausted. I feel spent and alone. My husband is at work all day and my friends haven’t yet got children. The hours until bedtime stretch ahead like a dark, sleepless void. I cry again.
I feel like I’ve failed my daughter somehow, because I’m not feeling bubbly and happy today. I feel like I’ve failed at motherhood somehow, because I’m not enjoying it this morning. Continue reading
With wine on a Friday night.
It starts with a whisper at around midday. I can hear it humming softly from the fridge in all its cold, fresh, delicious glory.
The call gets steadily louder as the afternoon wears on. With each tantrum from my beautiful, highly-strung 20 month old daughter, the wine positively sings from the bottle stacked lovingly in its cosy white home in the corner of the kitchen. Continue reading
I was going to call this post, The Day I Didn’t Miss My Daughter’s First Steps. But then I decided to be completely upfront and go with the title above instead.
Because, after hurtling through a whole array of emotions, from elation and joy to despair, guilt and wretchedness, back to elation, I am now at the point of denial.
Being a working mum has it’s benefits, a healthy bank balance and a stimulated mind not least among the working virtues. But, sometimes, it can be utterly rubbish. Continue reading
For the past couple of months I have been asked one question time and time again, in various different forms.
It goes something like this, “I just don’t know how you do it”. Or, “I couldn’t do it, I don’t know how you do”. Or, “You should really take care – I mean, I just don’t know how you manage it”.
In each situation, the person is talking about my work. Continue reading
…is that they precede a Saturday morning.
Usually, this should be a cause for joy, signalling a lie-in and a leisurely cup of tea. But, recently, Saturday mornings (and Sundays come to think of it) have meant something altogether different.
You see, from Monday to Friday, I am long gone by the time Frog wakes up. I leave the house at 4.15am for work, which means the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine plays the role of Gok Wan in the morning, dressing our 20 month old non-toddling toddler and negotiating all the relevant tantrums. Continue reading