For the last week, I have been paralysed with illness. If I’m honest, I haven’t been well for a few weeks but like every other mother, I just kept going. I’d feel run down and tired and in response, I might cancel a night out then, the next day, I’d get up and keep going at a million miles an hour. In between I’d pop a few Paracetamol and Ibruprofen to keep the headaches at bay. I drank my body-weight in water, did yoga when I could and ate my vegetables. I figured that would be enough to keep me going. It wasn’t. Continue reading


I’m a recent convert to Love Island. In fact, it would be more accurate to say I have become obsessed. I’m not going to defend it in any way. I’ve read an article trying to convince us that it’s an interesting dissection of society today and another article that even tried to call it the most feminist show in recent years. That’s all bollocks. It’s mind-numbingly, soul-achingly bad; it’s worse than The Real Housewives and it’s worse than Keeping Up With The Kardashians but it’s become as necessary to me and my mental wellbeing as the the tiny little pill I take each day to stave off depression. That’s a pretty big claim, right? I know. I’ve told myself a million times not to exaggerate but bear with me because if you’re a mum, you’ll understand why I NEED shit TV in my life.  Continue reading


If the people who know me well were surprised I was going for a home birth, it was nothing compared to the shock they hid (with varying degrees of success) when I told them I was also going to do hypnobirthing. I was met with many slightly cocked heads, covered in polite smiles and quizzical eyes. You see, I guess they don’t see me as the ‘hypnobirthing type’. I can’t blame them…if you don’t know anything about hypnobirthing you could be forgiven for assuming it’s a bit vagina-whispery and a lot of bollocks. Continue reading