14 Wednesday Mar 2012
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The thing about motherhood, is that you never quite have it sussed. That is the only thing, above all else, that is guaranteed.
Of course, like many mothers, I am in constant denial of this fact, telling myself I really know my daughter. Above all others. And better than all others.
But I don’t think this is really true. Continue reading »
11 Sunday Mar 2012
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21 Saturday Jan 2012
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I write this amidst a sea of toys and half-read books, socks and abandoned crayons.
We were going to do something today. I’m not sure what. Just, well, something.
Instead, we have spent the morning making a mess without really doing anything. The day is already half over and we’ve only made it to the end of the garden. Continue reading »
04 Wednesday Jan 2012
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My Mum and Dad have been decluttering recently, before an escape to The Good Life and selling their home of 25 years. This means a few hidden gems have turned up, which have been gathering dust for a very long time. Like a letter from my sister, aged 6.
Reading this letter now, as a mum myself, makes me hope Frog will one day have a younger sibling. There’s nothing quite like sisters and brothers for bringing you down a peg or two… Continue reading »
01 Sunday Jan 2012
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24 Saturday Dec 2011
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30 Wednesday Nov 2011
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baby, family, freelance journalist, Parenting, toddler, work, working mother
Before I became a mum I thought I was busy. I would be in work for 5am (I was a Breakfast Journalist at a large commercial radio station), work bloomin’ hard while I was there, and then go home to have a nap at some point in the afternoon.
Occasionally I’d do a load of washing – back when I only needed to wash a couple of loads a week – and collapse for the rest of the evening on the sofa.
I had no idea what busy was.
As a comparison, I’ve done a little exercise. This is what my life looked like yesterday: Continue reading »
26 Saturday Nov 2011
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Me. Changing my name.
I changed my name recently – getting married can do that to you. The thing is, I keep forgetting.
There’s nothing like being unable to place your own name to make other people think you’re an idiot. It doesn’t help when you forget your address in the same sentence. Bloody forms. Why do they always need your name and address anyway? Stupid passports. You’d have thought a terribly unflattering picture would be enough.
Anyway, when I married the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine I decided not to follow my new husband’s suggestion and call myself Mrs Northern Love Machine. Instead I took his actual name: Weaver. Continue reading »
20 Sunday Nov 2011
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14 Monday Nov 2011
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No, I’m not pregnant. And no, we’re not planning another baby yet. But for some reason, recently I’ve found myself thinking more and more about a brother or sister for Frog.
Maybe it’s because some of the other mums I know, who have children the same age as Frog, are pregnant. Or maybe it’s because Frog is now 16 months old, so it’s getting rapidly too late for her to have a brother or sister who is just a couple of years younger than she is.
Whatever the reason, I’m broody as hell. Continue reading »
