10.30pm: With her eyes half closed, Ruby launches herself off her bed and at me, where I am kneeling on the carpet. In one swift motion she smacks her nose against my cheekbone, slides off my lap and collapses onto the floor, where she channels Leo in The Wolf of Wall Street quaaludes scene. The […]
Tea is life. The rest is noise. Read More »
Ruby found my dad after his stroke. She woke me up on a Wednesday morning to tell me Grandad was asleep on the floor, before leading me upstairs by the hand to show me. I allowed her to parent me, aware I was about to see something I wasn’t ready to, wouldn’t ever be ready
Still dead. And other moments from life without. Read More »
2024. 20 bloody 24. Holy moly. I’m still stuck somewhere in 2018, drunk at a wedding flicking my hair to Proud Mary. On New Year’s Eve, courtesy of Jools Holland, I had the unwelcome realisation that Sugababes released their first single in the year 2000. Is it actually genuinely feasibly fucking possible that Sugababes have
“Let everything happen to you”* Read More »
This week I bumped into an old colleague. I was dashing home from Sainsbury’s with the girls to meet the carpet chap who was coming to measure our carpet-less hall, and the heating engineer who would – please God – repair our boiler. I saw her at the precise moment she saw me, which is
A fall from grace* Read More »
Yesterday, friends, was a shit show. Georgia, who I suspect is approaching a three month growth spurt, was hell bent on being no more than three inches from my boobs at any given moment. And Ruby, approaching threenager status, was hell bent on causing chaos in every part of the house while I was trapped
On a Thursday afternoon in October Georgia Daisy announced herself to the world by flying through her dad’s hands “like a bar of soap” and landing on our bathroom floor. Milk monster, snuggle bunny and a massive set of lungs, she’s been bringing newborn joy and chaos ever since. But I’m in too deep to
Everything has changed. Again. Read More »
Our daughter shouts this on the reg. It’s unnecessary – both the statement and the volume at which it’s delivered – because I have no interest in touching the crumpled sheet of Pepper Pig stickers or her soggy Shreddies leftover from breakfast (if you wanna eat those now, love, that’s on you). The ‘mine’ assertions
“It’s MINE! Don’t TOUCH it please.” Read More »
…if you want to become a parent. You must dive into it like a fool.”* I fear this post may contain some such things. So, to any prospective parents: I’m sorry for the unreserved honesty. Should you choose to keep reading, know that you are probably more competent than me. — Lately, stuff keeps
“There are things you have to not know… Read More »
She’s two! TWO. Two whole years (and three weeks) old. Holy faaark, that went fast! I wrote a sentimental post about being her mum and what it was teaching me when she turned one – and who am I to break a birthday tradition? This year, I’ve also been thinking a bit about what life’s
Parenting: two years and one pandemic in Read More »
It’s the first 1st of January I haven’t spent banging on about my New Year’s resolutions. That, friends, is because I’m not making any. And neither should you. You’re bloody wonderful exactly as you are. It’s a decision I landed on over dinner after a few margaritas last night. My friend Chris suggested that not
Resolutions Shmesolutions Read More »
