Oh, hello. It's been a while. Two months to be exact. I didn't intend for it to be so long. I thought about you a lot. I missed you, in fact. But every time I considered picking up my laptop and visiting you, I reached a mental block (mental, perhaps, being the operative word in … Continue reading Oh, hey crazy girl.
Who knew that 16 months after Whoopsy was born, I would back on the (same) chair in our home, crying about feeling overwhelmed by motherhood and feeling as if my life was wildly outside of my control. I thought that, as baby blues passes in weeks, I would never have to revisit that odd, and … Continue reading Baby Blues
I love my mother dearly. Mostly from afar. She is a very impressive woman - still - and a very beautiful one to boot. I take great comfort in thinking that I will age as she has over her seventy something years. However, for the last decade (give or take a year), I have actively … Continue reading The Whinger
A few nights ago, I sat Whoopsy in his high chair for dinner. I offered him food after food, all of which was discarded onto the floor, sometimes with not so much as a lick. Finally, I succumbed and offered him an M&S olive with manchego cheese that I had been saving for my post-baby-bedtime … Continue reading Olives
Today is our anniversary. When people ask us how long we've been together, I enjoy watching their faces look at Whoopsy and do the mental calculations. Their response is often 'Oh'. Oh, indeed. Oh, fuck. Oh, bollocks. Oh, Christ on a bike. People don't really know how to respond to the information that we got … Continue reading New beginnings
I spent at least a decade of my life trying to find my 'true purpose'. I thought I had found my calling in the work I did for the latter half of that decade, working to solve food insecurity in the UK. However, it has become apparent that that role was nothing more than a … Continue reading Empty tank
How much would you sacrifice for your child? I found out the answer today. Baby and I took a detour to the park on the way back from the post office. It was spontaneous so I had nothing on me but the bare essentials. Naturally, Whoopsy's nose started running. I don't mean running. I mean … Continue reading Snotty socks