Hola! It can be a bind, this blogging nonsense. The constant pressure to perform, to churn out quality content day in, day out. The bloggers’ bitching contests to engage with, the lists, the PR requests, the ‘she said, she said’
Pre-match nerves
I’m not a helicopter mother. I don’t tend to stress (too much) about how my children are doing academically. I try and keep up with the spelling tests, times table tests, projects, homework, reading, etc etc and all the other
One was bloody freezing Ma’am
The week before the Jubilee I wasn’t feeling terribly patriotic. Work was piling up around my ears, the house was looking increasingly like a squat and the idea of a long bank holiday weekend feeding into the half term with
The Puberty Discussion
My children go to a very modern school. The school photos are the kind with hula hoops and ‘cool’ poses that Tara Cain detests, and they communicate almost exclusively by email. Most of the 20 or so emails I receive
The day that was and the day that should have been…
Today started with screaming. Screaming punctuated with yelling, and laughter, definitely shrill laughter. Jumping from high up places, possibly bunk beds. Jettisoning of objects that were absolutely not meant to be jettisoned. Arguing, slapping, hair-pulling and tears. And all before
Today’s post comes to you from In the Powder Room
I’m blogging over at ITPR today about my take on nofollow links and disclosure. It’s a hot topic right now and personally I think it’s impossible to divorce this issue from the wider question of disclosure and transparency and how
Where do grown up shoes go to die?
I just counted up the number of shoes in my wardrobe. Even after the monster cull when I last moved house, I still have 19 pairs of shoes, which means that 16 pairs are never getting worn. Of these 7
Friends
I’m a rubbish friend. By which I mean that I’m not always a reliable friend. I’m a ‘pick-up-and-put-down-and-never-any-hard-feelings’ type of friend. And yet I have some of the best friends that anyone could wish for. Friends who know everything there
There’s only one thing worse than a husband…
….and that’s an ex-husband. So spoke a very lovely and wise friend of mine in a tea shop in Stow-on-the-Wold this time last year. I’ve been lucky that my experience hasn’t been anything like that, but I’ve put the world
Wet Paint
Hello there, please be careful where you sit, the paint’s still drying. Welcome to Battling On. Countless times in the last couple of years I’ve thought about moving my blog to its own home, then faltered, probably to do some