There’s only one way to start this blog and it’s like this: I don’t give a shit how you feed your kids. I don’t care what decision you make and why you make it. Whatever your decision, as long as your babies are fed, I don’t care whether it’s fresh from source or formula, whether it’s boob or bottle. This is not a blog designed to incite bitching and moaning about breastfeeding vs bottle feeding. It’s an argument that’s sooo 2013 and frankly we’re all bored. I’m starting from the premise that, as mothers and women we are all on the same team and therefore passionate about supporting each other in the decisions we make.
Drag way back to reality after lovely dream about one of the Ryans. Can’t remember which one. Not 100% sure I could tell them apart. Either way, it doesn’t matter. It was lovely. Remember why I’m not dreaming anymore – smallest child mewling. Boobs leaking. Check clock. I’ve had 32 minutes sleep.
It’s an understatement to say that Christmas is not what it used to be. As a parent, it’s a financial nightmare. As a mother, it’s a logistical nightmare. As a family, it’s a hotbed of flash points some of which, inevitably, will lead to a Hunger-Games style fight with only one left standing victorious and sober. As a kid however, it’s without doubt the most exciting time of the year. It’s the time during which everything seems to stand a bit more still – mum and dad aren’t rushing off to work, Christmas lights are twinkling in the corner of every eye and chocolate is everywhere. Continue reading
In this day and age, and by that I mean, this day and our age, we should know how to treat people properly. We should know better than to bully people. You would think that once the knee high socks and bunches are gone, once the playground politics are behind us and the Mean Girls membership cards are well and truly burned, that we would, as grown women, understand that being a bitch gets you nowhere. Continue reading
I’m asked all the time…what’s it like the second time around? I’m sure all of you with more than one Small have been asked the same question. I asked every parent I met who had two children when I was pregnant with my second and the answers fell clearly into two camps. Some responded by saying, “It’s really hard. Having two is three times harder than having one.” That wasn’t really what I wanted to hear. The other response was more optimistic, “It’s so much easier the second time around.” Now, that’s more like it. Continue reading
Mostly, I work out of central London. This is pretty cool – it’s a great city, I’m lucky to live here and working out of The Hospital Club in Covent Garden beats any office hands down. There is a downside: it’s a shit place to drag a buggy around. Continue reading
Yesterday morning I was driving in the car with both my children in the back seat. We were going to a playgroup where both my children would be stimulated and I would have a chance to drink a cup of coffee and have at least half a conversation with an adult before one of us would have to run off to prevent our children from causing irreparable damage to either themselves or someone else. Continue reading
It’s been a little rough for you recently. You think I haven’t noticed but I have. You don’t yet have the words to full explain why you feel immensely pissed off a lot of the time, but don’t worry babe. I understand and I’m sorry. Continue reading