In which we get poetic (sort of)…

An Ode to Summer in the Garden Now, at last the weather’s turned From months of snow and rain The Boys are playing in the sun And are much less of a pain. They head out to the garden With plans to let off steam Five minutes in, I drag them back To smear them... Continue Reading →


In which we share one piece of advice…

I do not consider myself one of those mothers who can offer advice to people about owning children. After almost seven years of being a parent, I am still utterly perplexed by the whole process. I am regularly outwitted by them. I shout too much. I give in to too much screentime/chocolate/feigned deafness in order... Continue Reading →

In which we learn the alphabet…

A is for Arse. Both of The Boys seem terribly keen to get theirs out as often as possible. It’s a charming trait. B is for Bathtime. Aquatic carnage of the highest order that involves a delightful combination of splashing, willie-waving, flailing, screaming and somehow flooding the fucking bathroom. At least they don’t shit in... Continue Reading →

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