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My Favourite Child


George wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t whine. He’d just blank me, do whatever the sod he wanted, get shouted at, walk off, find a stick, whack stuff. Simple.

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All The Mothers

2016-03-03 13.19.57

What I remember, though is the egg sandwiches she made me for breakfast and that she knew as much about my favourite dollies as I did. The important stuff.

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Snot Days

2016-02-18 21.35.19

“I think it’s a bogey,” she concludes, her head angled to one side thoughtfully, like she’s just discovered the theory of the universe.

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Apology to my Brother

2016-01-20 13.35.05

I could tell that they weren’t listening. It was obvious. Because they’d interrupt me mid sentence, shouting, “YOU NEED A POO. You do. I can tell. You’ve not been yet, today. Come on. Pants down.”

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Hello Former Child-Free Full-time Employee Me

2016-01-07 17.26.51

You’ll work harder than you’ve ever known, but you’ll only get paid half as much. For your main job, the crazy mummy one, you won’t get any money at all.

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All I Want for Christmas


I’ve quite liked 2015. It’s had its ups and downs, but all in all, it’s been a pretty good one. It started with maternity leave, a 4 month old baby and a 25 month old diva, and it’s finishing off with our lovely little family just that little bit older and so much easier. We’re […]

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Twoberty Has Got Nothing on This


Maybe it’s just a growth spurt. Or maybe a virus? She did have a bit of a sniffle the other day. Maybe she’s not a fournomal threenager after all?

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Whose Baby is That?


It’s Saturday, 25 November 2012. 4.24am. I’m awake. I’m still awake. I’ve been awake forever. For the past 6 days, 19 hours and 58 minutes, in fact. Actually, no, longer than that. I didn’t sleep for the day or so of torture before it all started, and therefore, by my calculations, I am probably a […]

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Twoberty to Threenager


It wasn’t that you weren’t listening, necessarily, it was just that the fun you were having in your imagination was far too loud and exciting for you to hear anything else.

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Can we go now? Please…


It’s Sunday afternoon and Ant is driving us into town so I can grab a new sleeping bag for George. One that hasn’t got a pink mouse ballerina on, preferably. The poor boy has suffered the indignity of his current hand-me-down for ages and seeing as we’re going on holiday next weekend, he can have […]

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