You may not be walking yet, but at 21 months old you’re certainly not a baby.
What you are like now:
1) You shout NO! A lot.
2) You’re rapidly going off wearing a nappy.
3) You sing yourself to sleep with that popular nursery rhyme all about a Russian oligarch with a bladder problem; Tinkle Tinkle Little Tsar is your favourite song. Continue reading
As well as being a co-presenter for a breakfast radio show, I also earn my crust as a writer. Part of this job involves writing features, part of it involves writing commercial copy and part of it involves blogging.
I rarely put any of my work-related writing here because this is my personal space. But I wanted to share my most recent post for one of my clients, because it’s something that I could easily have written right here.
It’s 10 o’clock at night and I’ve had a difficult day. I’m tired and emotional and a bit overwhelmed.
We’ve been at the hospital, you see. My daughter, now approaching 22 months old, is still not walking. The doctors think there may be a problem with her hips. Continue reading
Hospital waiting rooms - a good source of books
I didn’t sleep last night.
I was too busy tossing and turning in bed, mulling over the various different things that could mean my toddler isn’t toddling. Why is it that things always seem so much worse in the dark?
Today’s hospital appointment – both dreaded and anticipated – wasn’t particularly pleasant. The X-ray which I was hoping to avoid did actually happen. The consultant examined Frog’s gorgeous hips and sent us straight to the room with the “special camera”. Continue reading
I’m dreading tomorrow. I’m anticipating tomorrow. I can’t wait for it to come. The thought of it fills me with dread.
Tomorrow I should find out what is wrong with my little girl, if anything. Tomorrow I should find out if my non-toddling toddler is just a late walker or if there is, indeed, a more sinister reason for her lack of mobility. Continue reading
That word will either conjure up nostalgic memories of being at one with nature, free in the open countryside, with the fresh smell of morning dew in your nostrils as you wake at dawn. Or it will conjure up pure, unadulterated panic.
It’s a fact of life – just as there are dog people and cat people – there are campers and non-campers. Continue reading