Summer wasn’t meant to be this way. Summer was meant to be about feeling the sun on your face, lifting your chin to let it filter down your body, enveloping you in a cocoon of gold.
She stares blankly at the walls. Undone. "What did I forget?"
“Jesus Christ woman, what is this?! I’ve just got off an eight hour flight, I don’t need this crap!” Gripping the kitchen chair, she pulled the wooden seat tight against her thighs, ready to assume the crash position.
There I was, foetally curled, waiting for something to happen. My beautiful boy didn’t stumble back to his bed, he lay down, spooning me and pulling as many towels as he could over the two of us. And there we lay…
Dear Teacher, You know that moment at parents’ evening when you look up from your register and clock me sitting, waiting, trying to peer around the pushy parents stood directly in front of me who are determined to see you
Three kids; one shower (well two, but only one that anyone seems to find acceptable to use in the morning), and a complex fusion of personalities – at least two of whom are most definitely NOT morning people (I’m one
*** UPDATE – See bottom of post for Flop MkII – my second attempt turned out much better than the first! *** For those of you who may not know, I’m the ‘voice’ behind the twitter feed for the wonderful,
I really must start to do this more often. If nothing else to save myself the 15 minutes resetting my password every time I try and log in. Earlier this week I felt inspired to write, even had one of
Last night, as I sat covered with children on the sofa, one of them asked what my hobby is. And I realised that I don’t have one. And that bothered me. One of them piped up: “Reading mummy, that’s your
Every now and again a programme comes along that sweeps the nation up on its zeitgeisty wave, setting twitter alight and giving us all something to pretend to do on a Friday night. On paper this is what you’d expect
We have a new daily ritual. It involves following @TiFiaCyw on twitter and attempting to learn three Welsh words every day. This week produced a particularly appealing word:
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’
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
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