I’m at that point in life where I consider brushing my hair as making an effort, so you can imagine my ongoing disgruntlement over the fact that I don’t awaken each morning looking like a glowing, charmingly freckled, incredibly wealthy, fresh faced, Blake Lively. Due to unfortunate circumstances known as genetics, my face doesn’t do that. Nor do I wake up Continue reading
Despite the fact that I’ve been told I really only have two children because my first were twins [please tell me this when I am singlehandedly trying to extricate three small, wilful individuals who have suddenly lost the ability to move their own limbs with any degree of coordination, from their car seats, in the rain, whilst a stream of traffic is waiting for me to shut the door and 2 out of 4 of us need Continue reading
Wiping your child’s ass is a delicate balance between breathing through your mouth so as to eliminate the invasive odour, but simultaneously attempting to avoid actually inhaling an entire sewerage systems worth of invisible poo particles into your mouth, mid wipe.
I know this because it is an elegant waltz of malodour and thinly veiled repulsion Continue reading
And by home, I mean the place where toys go to die.
For there was a time in the not too distant past Continue reading
Après breakfast “impromptu” photoshoot whereby I force my first born children to snuggle up to me lovingly in appropriate lighting in order to replicate the wonder and emotion of Continue reading
However, as a person who loves travel and now a parent of three young apprentice humans, I’ve had the dubious pleasure of Continue reading
He’s three, so he still sits down to pee, and yet somehow the brush still managed to slip through the infinitesimal gap created between the back of the toilet seat and his miniature scale bottom. The lack of Continue reading