It’s Saturday morning and I’m writing this in my silent, empty bed. I can hear a helicopter outside, and traffic, but that’s it. There are no demanding shouts of “Out! Out! Mummy! Daddy!”, coming from The Baby’s room. There is (thankfully) no teeth-grinding or snoring coming from the left hand side of the bed, courtesy of The Boyfriend. The gentle whir of the laptop and the dull traffic from the… Continue reading
Tag Archives: The Princess
Tonight I am home alone. Well, not quite alone, The Baby is asleep upstairs, but The Boyfriend is at work until 11pm just as he is for two nights out of every six. So tonight, instead of spending my evening as I usually do (blogging or writing other articles or reading or vegging in front of the TV with chocolate) I am doing something useful. Something fun, but ultimately useful… Continue reading
Once upon a time there was a little girl with very curly hair and big blue eyes. The little girl, despite her tender age, had very discerning tastes and an extremely strong mind; she knew exactly what she wanted and nothing could distract her.
Although the little girl had always been able to communicate her needs very well (screaming and kicking nearly always did the trick), once able to… Continue reading
Yesterday was one of those days in which nothing is predictable. It was a day of ups and downs, of worry and relief and emotion.
It started fairly normally, except something had happened the night before which had made me worry, and subsequently sleep badly. I woke up tired (nothing out of the ordinary) and still worried, and very reluctant to get out of bed (definitely nothing out of… Continue reading
Most days, my morning goes like this:
Alarm call from The Baby around 6am. Get up and change her nappy while The Boyfriend makes a bottle for her and a cup of tea for us (I know, I’m lucky), and bring her into our bed. Have a play with The Baby in bed after she’s finished her milk until play turns to smacking, biting and pinching, at which point… Continue reading
This isn’t, as the title may suggest, a pop at working mums. Working mums, whether part-time or full-time, and mums that stay at home are all just as good in my book, each to their own, and as long as all involved are happy, then all is fine and dandy. No, this is more of a dig at people who can’t actually do their jobs.
I have had the… Continue reading
Today my aunty, Annie, should have turned 73. It sounds so old! I can’t really imagine her being old. She was 56 when she died, although I suppose to my 15-year-old self, even that would have seemed old. There’s barely a day passes without Annie making an appearance in my thoughts, sometimes it’s just a cameo, sometimes a starring role, but she’s almost always there, and particularly since The Baby… Continue reading
So there has been yet another report released to pile more guilt onto the working mother. It’s a bit like shooting a sitting duck, no? Can the media not give parents just a teeny break once in a while?
Apparently, detrimental long-term effects on your child’s health can be caused by sending them to nursery or to the child-minder. Awesome. So added to the list of separation… Continue reading
So here we are, back home again. This time two weeks ago I was worried about our holiday, about the disturbance and raucousness we were about to unleash on my unwitting family members.
This time last week I was enjoying the most relaxed Sunday I had had in ages and ages and ages. The holiday in Scotland with my aunty and uncle has been just what we all needed. … Continue reading
So here we are again. In two days we will be travelling on holiday. And again I’m apprehensive.
I have packing down to a fine art now; having had odd weekends and one week away on holiday with The Baby, I now know exactly what we need and what we can leave behind. I also know a few tricks that will… Continue reading