It’s fair to say the last week has been tough in the mum stakes.
Tantrums on top of tantrums – on top of more tantrums – haven’t mixed well with the sheer exhaustion that comes with being up at 3.45am every day for my new job. By the time tantrum number 3,479 has hit in the afternoon, I’ve regularly melted into a pool of (melodramatic) tears.
But today has been different. Continue reading
Frog has a new toy. It cost me, well, let’s just say it was very very cheap. As cheap as a box of treasure comes, in fact.
At nearly 16 months, my daughter has decided she’s not particularly interested in toys any more. She’d rather play with real stuff. It doesn’t really matter what stuff, as long as it’s stuff.
Useful stuff is best; a bowl, a wooden spoon, some pegs. Anything that isn’t a real toy and which I’m likely to need within the next half an hour. Continue reading
When I was huge and pregnant, the thing that got me through those long restless nights and sick-filled mornings was imagining what I would do with my baby when he or she was born.
At the time, I didn’t know Frog was a girl. And I didn’t know she’d take on squatter’s rights in my womb, so reluctant was she to enter the world. So I was still all rose-tinted spectacles about motherhood.
I imagined my year of maternity leave to include countryside walks, painting pictures and playing with play doh. I looked forward to Christmas with glee, under the illusion that I would find lots of time to bake with my baby and make homemade decorations.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. Continue reading
After having a baby I’ve been utterly shocked to find I haven’t suddenly developed a new skill for craft activities.
Despite my best efforts to learn to knit, sew and make beautifully arty creations out of an old slipper and a rusty nail, I’m constantly indignant at my lack of crafting ability. Yes it’s fair to say, I’m rubbish at making things. Continue reading