I keep seeing man sheds springing up, but maybe women need women caves too. While men sit playing video games or using their tools, forgetting the grown up world back in the house, women can read, listen to George Michael (or whoever tickles their fancy) and wallow in a time before they had the responsibilities of a family.
So many times I have heard it. “Oh you have two boys then a girl? That’s the perfect combination, two older boys to take care of their little sister.”
In the future, if I ever struggle to remember what it was like to have a three-year-old child, I will just look at a photo of the birthday cake I made BUB.2 for his fourth birthday. He had seen similar cakes on the internet when I was searching for dinosaur cakes and said he wanted …
Parents who stay at home aren’t a blubbery, economically-useless void. A parent at home undertakes a series of daily tasks THAT SOMEONE HAS TO DO.
Last night I went to bed wondering what I’d do with a few hours to myself on this Mother’s Day weekend. In my dream, I told my own Mum that “I’d like to walk down the centre of Manhattan, turning left or right whenever I want to.” Today, I’ll probably end up sniffing books in …
Aside from rigorously following Slimming World for eight months, people ask me how I lost 3.5 stone (three of which I tell myself were each of the BUBs’ fault, half a stone was the biscuits’ fault, but it’s probably the other way round). What was the secret? It was this: Individually-wrapped Moser Roth chocolate bars …
“If you could live any day of your life again, what would it be?”, to which she answered: “Any day when my children were small.” Wow. Not her wedding day, not that amazing holiday in Fiji, not the birth of her child, or a skydive, or the first concert, the road trip through France…no. Just …
We moved to a different room and a mobile scanner was wheeled in, and all the while I was mouthing to Willy Wonka, in a Les Dawson-style whisper “She isn’t, she won’t be, she’s not.” She was.
Pretty much every morning on our walk to school, when the sun is shining, BUB.1 tells me he wishes he could fly.
It reminded me of the moment I first sat in my own car and drove alone around town. The Soup Dragons’ “I’m free” popped into my head, and I sang it to calm myself all the way home.
Today I went in my parents’ loft for Phase 1 of operation ‘Grow up and shove your own s*it in your own loft’.
In addition to seeking out a box of my university books, I was also hoping to discover some other treasures. Perhaps that lovely compendium of games I could pass onto my younglings, vintage fairy tale books, some dusty vinyl record sleeves we could laugh at in front of a roaring open fire (if we had one)?
What did I come down with?
An ex-colleague and treasured old friend remarked today how wistful she was for the old days of PR Christmas parties. I too have been missing the dizzy glare of ultra violet lights in fabulous venues, the endless round of mini canapes and the champagne burps at work the next day.
“Loneliness is not a broken heart. It’s a penguin in a tutu.” I don’t know why Shane Finn was in prison, but it doesn’t matter does it? I just loved what he wrote.