Motherhood is a lonely gig. Day after day, dropping off, picking up, feeding, making chitter-chatter with the smallest of people, there’s no beating around the parental bush, it’s isolating. Mind you, my loathing of church hall baby groups, coffee shop meet ups and general “not great with real people” attitude (one might go as far to say anti-social, but that might sound like I’m on the brink of an ASBO – which I’m NOT!!), were nothing in the social spectrum of isolation I’ve experienced since being the mum of a “naughty boy”.View Post
Wednesday saw Casper’s first day at nursery – my littlest of beans at only 2 years and 1 month, I wasn’t sure if he was ready, or, more to the point,if I was ready! So, with iPhone in hand and with not a second to spare as we were already running late, I thought it would be a fab idea to film the highs and lows of our day!View Post
When I hit the very scary “publish” button for the first time two and a half years ago, I had the intention of bringing stylish family interiors to the masses. But I found bringing my interiors day job into my hobby of writing like latching on a creative leech to the heart of my ju-ju – it sucked the life out of my writing. In addition, I was about to drop our boy number 5 into the world so my brain was addled with all the new amazing baby garb that had been invented/re-invented since 2008; we were living in a rather uninspiring, dark rented house – so taking swoonworthy interiors shots was like trying to catch the slippery soap in a lukewarm bath (impossible) and I found it piss easy to bemoan life with a brood of boys to anyone that would listen, whilst struggling for my next interiors post subject matter. Something had to change – and it did.View Post
It seems like only a few weeks ago I was writing about why we didn’t “do” presents last Christmas for all the boys – and yet now, my Grinch like antics have spread like the Child-Catchers sneeze of doom to Casper’s second birthday this coming Monday. Yes, my darling little cherub of a ‘baby’ is turning two and what are we, his abnormally large immediate family doing about it? Diddly squat, that’s what?! There’ll be no Daily Mail headlines of this toddler’s parents lavishing him with a diamond-encrusted tractor ride party at Daylesford Farm with Mr Tumble and co as special guests, at a grand cost of £237k; in fact, the headline will just about make it to my personal Facebook page and perhaps my Instagram, with a modest picture of the tot in question ramming his face with the Asda equivalent of Colin the Caterpillar cake. Last minute guilt might also manifest in the shape of a Gruffalo helium balloon.View Post
I’ll be honest, I’ve recited this post in my head a thousand times – never getting further than the fourth line. I’ve promised (my instagram following and myself) for a few months that I’d share what it is exactly that we’re going through with my beautiful, biggest bean – Hugo. Sometimes things are just too great to share in a social media caption, and definitely too monumental to squeeze into a 15 second instagram story. But the main reason I’ve procrastinated over this tome for the past two months – abandoning all other writing until this was complete, is that it’s hard to write about something when I’m not sure where it began, it feels like we could be in the middle and I most certainly don’t know if it will ever end.
But even before I begin, a preface if you will, I need to mention a couple of things. As always, I have Hugo’s permission to share our story. Secondly, Hugo, 85% of the time is a wonderful, intelligent, talented, sporty, witty and glorious person. It’s unfortunately that the other 15% is coming close to ruining our lives and Hugo is adamant there is nothing he can do to stop it. We’re trapped on Hugo’s emotional roller-coaster – I just hope someone finds the brakes or gives us a soft landing when we crash.View Post