We Brits are masters of saying sorry. Apparently we apologise, on average, eight times a day. We often say it when we don’t really need to. It’s one of the most over-used words in our vocabulary and is a knee-jerk reaction to almost any circumstance. We use it as a form of ‘negative politeness’ so … Continue reading MEA CULPA
If we gave birth to teenagers who then regressed, I truly believe the human population would quite literally face extinction. The only way we, as parents, can mentally and physically deal with the onslaught of adolescent hormones is because we still remember the halcyon days of teeny tiny cute babies and toddlers that once gave … Continue reading The Terrible Teens
My daughter is 14 and is preoccupied about the survival of our planet. When I was 14 I spent my time mostly bothered about boys, spots and whether I had too much eyeliner on. Although according to my friend Sharon you could never use enough eyeliner. The point is I’m angry that my child’s concerns are beyond … Continue reading Fighting for their Future
My children made me cry today. Their selfish and inconsiderate nature touched a nerve, a raw nerve, which has been slowing fraying after months of soul destroying and heart breaking news which is filtered through the internet, television or from the mouths of those around me. I’m surrounded by people with cancer; more than 120 … Continue reading My Children Made Me Cry Today
Once upon a time there was a very lovely, sweet-natured little girl who lived in a house with her calm and sensible mother, her patient and caring father and cute, if not somewhat annoying, little brother. One day puberty burst into the house uninvited and announced itself with a flourish. It transformed the very lovely, … Continue reading Puberty v Menopause
Once upon a time there was a young, adventurous and slightly stubborn girl who decided very early on that children, mortgages and marriage were not for her. Instead she packed a back pack trotted off into the sunset for a few years until she landed in Spain and unpacked (a few things). When she hit … Continue reading A bloody good party
Telling my young kids their father had died was probably the worst thing I have ever had to do. It’s not something you can really prepare yourself for. Do you break it to them gently? Are you honest and completely truthful? Should you spare them the details to ease the pain? Do you use distraction … Continue reading When he died.
As I remind my son to brush his teeth for the umpteenth time that morning it dawns on me that one day, in the not too distant future, I will hand my boy over to you, the lady who will become his world and the cuddles and hugs he once bestowed upon me will become … Continue reading From me to you