School jumpers

He loves it. He came out on his first morning, beaming. 'How did you do?' I asked. 'QUITE WEEEELL!' he shouted back, arms in a victory V. I see we are raising a classic British child, who uses 'not bad' to mean 'really good' and 'quite well' to mean 'verily, mother, I have had the … Continue reading School jumpers

A science-y kind of birthday

Just a quick one about Henry's birthday, before August is properly over and all my posts turn into meditations on apple crumble. I didn't organise a party this year, because we thought we'd be moving house in the middle of it. Then we weren't moving this month after all (and do not even talk to … Continue reading A science-y kind of birthday

This School-Mum-in-Training needs an instruction manual and some Valium

I had a huge panic attack today, when I kept seeing 'First day of school!' updates on Twitter. Does not compute, my brain said, as I looked over and over again at the date on my computer screen. it's still August no wait is it September after all have I missed the start of September … Continue reading This School-Mum-in-Training needs an instruction manual and some Valium

One thousand and ninety two

Dear Henry,Today you are three. Today has been a good day.It's getting harder to write about you properly, because describing you is becoming a challenge. The sweeping generalisations we hold up to babies - he's loud; he's busy; he's a good sleeper - are poor greyscale things when held up to the patterned light of … Continue reading One thousand and ninety two

His mother called him ‘WILD THING’

What follows: your weekly note about toddlers. I haven't written about Henry much, lately. It's not because he's going through a bit of a capital-P Phase - though he is - and I only want to write about the good stuff. I think this clingy, angry thing he's been trying on has its roots in insecurity and … Continue reading His mother called him ‘WILD THING’

I am your quiet place, you are my wild

For posterity. Here is Henry. He is two-and-a-bit, and watching a ten-minute YouTube video comprised entirely of trains whizzing through platforms at high speed (who makes these?!). 'Whooooooooa.' 'So big and so fast!' [personal favourite] 'Oh goodness, that's a big train!' The talking is incessant. He parrots everything, and knows it's a trick we find … Continue reading I am your quiet place, you are my wild

This Is Where We Are: A letter to my son on Mother’s Day (2)

Having read about it here, I wanted to write about how I mother my babies day-to-day, every Mother's Day. The first was here. Here goes the second.  Dear Future Version of Henry, Today is my second Mothering Sunday, and you are eighteen months old. We are sat side-by-side in the big bed, you tucked under my … Continue reading This Is Where We Are: A letter to my son on Mother’s Day (2)

A Henry and a half

He's a handful and a half A noise and a half A long thin string and a half A happiness and a half A year and a half (today!) Oh, how we love you, little eighteen-monther. Keep on climbing.

This Is Where We Are: A letter to my son on Mother’s Day (1)

Having read about it here, I wanted to write about how I mother my babies day-to-day, every Mother's Day. Here goes the first. Dear Future Version of Henry, Today is my first Mothering Sunday, and tomorrow you will be seven months old. I am sat in a puddle of quiet, feeding you before your nap. … Continue reading This Is Where We Are: A letter to my son on Mother’s Day (1)

A Birthday

It was an ordinary day. Until, suddenly, it wasn't. I had big plans for Thursday. The house was a mess. My hospital bag needed a few items before it was finished. I was going to make a white chocolate torte in the afternoon, because some days are white chocolate torte days, and that felt like … Continue reading A Birthday