This week has been all or nothing when it comes to parenting, housing and adulting (I do love a good made up word). I should have known on Monday that it would be one of those weeks when Hugo decided that the poultry aisle in the supermarket was the best place to casually do an impression of a volcano erupting after a belly full of chicken and tomato something organic. Clearing baby vomit off the floor with an industrial sized blue roll was obviously the trigger for buying no ‘real’ food and filling the trolley with cleaning products, toilet rolls and baby vests in a spectacular panicRead More →

Have you seen Midnight Philanthropy? I’m sure there was a time when people did things just to be nice. No strings attached, no endless gratitude required, no Facebook essay pleading likes and shares for five minutes fame. This time it would appear, has passed. If you want to buy a homeless person a burger after spending half your wages on Jagerbombs, make sure you post about it online. Get a decent selfie.Read More →

Me and my sisters

For my sisters, my sanctuary. Sometimes it’s all too much, you’ve not slept properly in months, you spend half your life covered in sick or poo or mashed banana. It’s all a mess, the car, the carpet, the walls. You rarely get chance to text pre-baby friends let alone meet them and on the day you’re ready to have to cocktails you’re ill/daddy’s ill/friend’s ill. Cue tears. There are a select few that can make you feel that not all hope is lost. More likely they will laugh with you as you recount the time your placid wonder-baby transformed into a homicidal, hangry banshee in the middle of the supermarket/high street/shoppingRead More →

Over the last ten years I think it’s safe to say I’ve done every diet going. I’ve been so worried about gaining weight that I’ve had a tight control on what I eat. I’ve cut carbs, I’ve pointed, I’ve not pointed, I’ve portioned, I’ve eaten only fruit and vegetables, I’ve lived off 500 calories for two days a week, I’ve cleansed, detoxed. The miles I must have clocked counting steps, laps, lengths, tracking runs, pumping, attacking, dancing (probably more freestyle than actual Zumba) boxing, stepping. I even qualified to lead a running group. Although it reads like a list of regrets and that’s far fromRead More →