who would like a drink? and other insightful observations
when it comes to parenting, what is ‘the truth’?
You may think, “I don’t have time to grow a beard, don a toga and talk crap all day.” But I think differently. here’s why…
A poem that really is about buying a 2 in 1 steam cleaner
i’m starting to wonder about the impact the status update, the ‘likes’ and the shares might have on my kids. i’m wondering what you think, too.
‘analysis’ and ‘views’ and ‘tripe written in the news’ that’s NOt what little girls should be made of.
There’s a little boy’s birthday in the house tomorrow. Actually, it’s today – it’s 4am here at the moment.
It’s not sugar crafting and gift wrapping that awoke me, with that un-pinnable downable anxiety that creeps in if you wake between 3 and 5. It’s something more. It’s the overwhelming burden of being a Mum. Pinterest is good for hacks on cake decorating and gift making: parenting existential birthday angst? Not so much. Continue reading
Half way through the six week holidays. So far so good. But what to do for the next 3 weeks?
Out of money, out of ideas, I thought I’d jot down those day trips that the boys still talk about fondly. Things that were so good, so epic, and so awesome that it would be a shame not to do them all over again.
I was expecting tales of bonfires, of sleeping outdoors, of trips to Peppa Pig world, of frolicking in the sea. After mining my kids’ treasure trove of all time favourite memories , what do they actually talk about constantly?
Here are the day trips that my kids would recommend you all try: Continue reading
The naked rambler’s brother installed our staircase. Fact. He was fully clothed when he did it. Public nudity is not a family trait. Continue reading
The kids are watching some film or other on Netflix when I hear them sigh. When I investigate I see the circle on the screen spinning round and round. Inundated with info and struggling to find space or capacity or to hear itself above all the other techno babble, the computer is buffering.
“I’m bored” moans the 7 year old when faced with this momentary glitch in his passive entertainment. “Being bored” is a new phrase for him, and a thoroughly depressing one at that. I feel a pang of shame: how did I let this happen? Continue reading