Writing about your children: how much is too much on the internet?

I've been thinking so hard about something lately - and gone round in so many circles - that it's squashed my head into a new shape. But I finally made my mind up this weekend, and would welcome your thoughtful discussion. So here goes. For about six months I've been seriously analysing the internet footprint … Continue reading Writing about your children: how much is too much on the internet?

The funny old thing about time

Time passes. Everyone told me it would, but of course I didn't believe them. How could I? The space inside a minute with a newborn seems so very long, because you're awake nearly all the minutes there are. And there are some images from the brand-new days of my babies that I can still see with … Continue reading The funny old thing about time

The manor house that sanity forgot

I think we are probably the National Trust's biggest fans. I have never in my life turned down the chance to ooh and ahh at some fancy tapestries. It doesn't matter who lived there; I get a little vicarious thrill when I climb their staircases and imagine their footfalls on the carpet, however long ago. … Continue reading The manor house that sanity forgot

Belong to where you are

I have this Anthony Burrill print on the wall of my downstairs loo. Ideally I would sit and ponder on it while I use the facilities, though of course I never use the facilities without a curious onlooker keen to hand me loo roll and compare genitalia. ('I just love talking to you', H said … Continue reading Belong to where you are

The singing cure

Monday, Monday/ So good to me/ Monday Monday/ It was the day I took two hay fever tablets instead of the recommended one and felt like a flipping DREAM   In case you're also suffering with the pollen tsunami (it's a thing in America; I'm sure it's a thing here too) here's a tiny boy … Continue reading The singing cure

What Fridays should be, and what they shouldn’t

It's Friday. Let out your breath. We're done. We're done. It's Friday. I do not go out on Friday nights. Friday night is the bit at the end of the marathon where you hug your fellow runners and leave sweaty salt trails on each other's cheeks. You wouldn't then put on something in which the … Continue reading What Fridays should be, and what they shouldn’t

Five books to…make your preschoolers happier

One of the best things about having kids is being able to hang out in the children's section of Waterstones, oohing and ahhing at the picture books, without looking like an idiot. Assuming you've remembered to bring your kids with you, which I don't always. To parents that are reading the same five-page horror seventeen … Continue reading Five books to…make your preschoolers happier

Not by the hair on my piggy pig pig

Do you remember an Enid Blyton book about a farm family? A set of happy, hardy children had their spoiled rich cousins come and live with them after something unspeakably awkward, like a divorce. One of the coiffed kids was called Melisande, and she had manicured fingernails and perfect hair and whined like a baby … Continue reading Not by the hair on my piggy pig pig

On ovary-wrestling

I've been struggling a bit with hormone rampages in the last few weeks. It's been hard not to tip myself into sadness or self-flagellation every time my tether's been shorter than I wanted, or I've forgotten to reply to an important message, or walked straight past the reusable shopping bags on my way out to Tesco … Continue reading On ovary-wrestling