Tag: motherhood

A Room of One’s Own

“What’s this? A shrine to 44 years ago?” BUB.1 was watching me sort through boxes of old school work, vinyl albums, Smash Hits yearbooks and photos that had finally, at the age of 44, made it out of my parents’ loft and into mine. But not before I had relived the memories and kept a few in sight. My whopping new… Read more →

I see you. Your children see you. Can you see you?

The thing with Instagram mums is you can’t see them. If Sarah down the road has her shoes on the wrong feet (hers, not her child’s, it can happen) you can see it. You can see her unwashed hair, her red-rimmed eyes, the numerous fish finger boxes in her recycling. You can see her ill fitting jeans. Women have never been… Read more →

Let’s pub

I find that getting ready for a night out isn’t what it was. I once had to deal with two poos and a pair of sore bollocks just during make-up application. Despite usually having to let one of my children try on my dress or my boots or my bag, despite sweating most of my make up off before I leave the house, despite hangovers with kids being the ultimate torture, I want to pub so badly. Read more →

Tongue-tie: Can anyone give me a straight answer?

An unexpected breech caesarean section, BUB.3 first appeared to me as a long, bright pink, crying blur. “She’s got a tongue-tie which they say they can cut” Willy Wonka said, reassuring me she was OK as they checked her over on the table behind me. From something so certain, the first thing I heard about my daughter in fact, the… Read more →

Bath time: I’ll just sit here and smoke

  At bath time and in the morning, when they are getting dressed, there is sometimes shouting. I usually have to ask them to do something a minimum of four times, with increasing volume, before it might happen. This evening I snapped, as after countless attempts to extract them from the bath they were still absorbed in their own world… Read more →

%d bloggers like this: