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 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
The thing about motherhood, is that you never quite have it sussed. That is the only thing, above all else, that is guaranteed.
Of course, like many mothers, I am in constant denial of this fact, telling myself I really know my daughter. Above all others. And better than all others.
But I don’t think this is really true. Continue reading
A year ago – almost to the day – I went for a walk in the woods.
With Frog strapped firmly to my chest I donned my new wellies and went splashing in puddles with my friend and her little boy, Arthur. We chased after Boots, the beautiful black Labrador, and built piles of sticks next to a hollow log.
At the time, Arthur was two and a half. Throughout the walk he was in a world of his own. One minute he was driving a train, the next he was boarding a bus, then he was tooting the horn, then he was taking passengers’ tickets. It was the first time he had ever completely lost himself in his own imagination and, as a new mum with all this to look forward to, it was thrilling to see. Continue reading
Photo Credit: Sky Symphony by Kevin Dooley
The clouds gather, droplets of rain begin to fall. A toy is thrown and the sky blackens.
It’s mild at first, a shout and a scream. A prelude to the main event.