Coming second gets a bad press, doesn’t it? Everybody wants to come first, win, be the one in charge and in control. But is it really so bad being a second baby? OK, so if you’re second you’ll probably never get to ride on the buggy board (which is a lot of fun for your…
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26 things I’m too tired for as a tired, tired mum
Read moreA few nights ago I was lying on the sofa, with wine that I was too physically tired to lift my hand to drink. ‘Go to bed!’ My shocked husband said. But I was too tired for that, even. I know it’s the same old sleepy story, but parents are just generally, well, tired aren’t…
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Golden tickets
Read moreOne of the things everyone told me about having a second child was that you really miss spending time with your first. Which sounds weird because you’re probably still with them the same amount of time, and as it is the three of us bump along happily throughout the week. But it is very different;…
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Taking my baby to the dentist, and other potential disasters
Read moreAs one of my specialist skills is putting off things I really should have done yesterday, last week we rocked up to the dental appointment I’d finally got round to booking after they’d sent me the reminder about, ooh, four or so months ago. Fifteen minutes late, apparently.
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Baby, you’re my favourite waste of time
Read more“What exactly do you do all day?” an irritating question most mums will get asked at some point. Good point though, what exactly do we do all day? At the moment I’m still so tired that doing most things feels like walking backwards in quicksand mixed with treacle, and going anywhere far with both girls can…
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The G word
Read moreThis weekend we went to a lovely, lovely christening. As we arrived I realised it would be Eliza’s first time in a church when it was actually being used for a religious service (and not a Christmas tree festival or playgroup, as per previous experiences). How would this go? I wondered. Thirty seconds later I…
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Going on a letter hunt…
Read moreEliza is currently learning her alphabet at nursery, so when we’re out and about she’ll stop at every car registration plate or street sign and point out “my letter….Florence’s letter…Daddy’s letter” and so on. It’s a great way to kill time on slow days (not so great on the days when we actually have somewhere…
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