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The Stay at Home Mum Returns (To Work)

sunset over fieldsI’ve been a bit… contemplative recently. Perhaps it’s with my biggest little one starting school (still not sure how this happened as I’m sure I just gave birth to him), and the newborn fog from my youngest’s arrival finally lifting. He is one and a half, but yep, it’s only just starting to shift. Anyway, I have found myself thinking about me and my life and the future, and I suppose, at the risk of sounding a bit indulgent: who I am.

The upshot of all of this is that I’ve decided to go back to work. I’ve been a stay at home mum for four years. Four years! It was absolutely what I wanted and what worked for our family, but I’m not sure it is right for me any more.

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dad helping boy to ride bikeNow, I am of course delighted that my children have a great relationship with their dad, it is how it should be. And I know there have been many times when I have been the ‘preferred parent’ and how well my husband has always taken it. I know that our children get different things from both of us, and so it stands to reason that sometimes they will display a leaning towards him or me.


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Life is too short to make your own pesto

mum and toddler boy smiling happily at home

For the last two months there has been a courgette languishing in the bottom of our fridge. It is not always the same courgette. Every so often I accept that the old courgette is no longer useable and I replace it with a new one. I have been partaking in this wasteful ritual because I am convinced that one day, I will make sugar free courgette cake for my children. But secretly I know I will not make sugar free courgette cake for my children because I currently have neither the time or inclination to make sugar free courgette cake for my children.

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On being a mum of boys

I’ve heard some funny stuff about being a mum exclusively to boys. Some of it genuinely funny – like how they will apparently talk only in grunts for a few of their teenage years, and take over the house with game stations and dodgy smelling deodorants. And some of it a bit, well, odd. Like how my family would be complete if we had a girl – err, no thanks, I can barely cope with the children I’ve got without throwing another in to mix – boy or girl.

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Toy Bonfire

A poem about my deepest, darkest fantasy…

The mother looked around, rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh
The clutter filling up the room could almost make her cry
She looked at all the books, the games, the eleven million toys
The big bright noisy plastic that is made for girls and boys

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Dear Preschool

Two years ago my husband and I decided to look into some part time childcare for our little boy.  I had heard lovely things about our local preschool but being nervous, worried and all those other things I can be as a mother, I just couldn’t imagine him feeling independent enough to be happy in the care of non-family members. He was funny and lively at home, but otherwise quite shy and it felt like a big leap for him to be in a setting without me.

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Why I Hate Dinnertime

I’m not going to write this as an open letter to dinnertime because I realise that as more of a hellish entity than a person, it will not reply, thus furthering my rage and feelings of hopelessness towards it.

I’m just going to rant about it generally on here because I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this. Let’s hope so anyway – misery loves company, right?

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baby boy doing funny pose in pramWhile I couldn’t have been more excited to be having a baby, in hindsight, there are a few things I wish I had made more of before the big event. So much so, I made a list of ‘em. If you’re reading this prior to popping out a bambino or two then go forth and complete for me – you’ll be glad you did. And if you’re in the same position as I am, feel free to just ruefully nod along while sipping your cold tea and half-heartedly wiping your snot-stained jeans with a baby wipe.

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Look, I couldn’t help it, OK? I’ve been reading Fox’s Socks – and the rest of the Acorn Wood gang- for two years. I know them off by heart and I can say without certainty I’m not the only one thinking Fox really needs to cut back on the sauce […]

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Breaking up with Breastfeeding

sleepy breastfeeding babyDear Breastfeeding,

This is a break-up letter, although ours is not a bitter end.

We have been through some times, certainly. That spate of hourly feeds was fun, and mastitis sure knew how to throw a good party or three. There were moments when I wished we were formula feeding just to get a break, a solid stretch of sleep, a few hours where nobody needed to touch me. Our relationship was definitely not without its speed bumps.

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The Best Bank Holiday Weekend Contest

baby boy garden sunshineThere’s little I like more than Bank Holidays. The long weekend, the subsequent shorter working week, the extra lie-in and the family time are all kinds of perfect.

I sometimes get that weird comparison thing we’re not meant to admit to, though, when it feels like everyone else in the world – or on Facebook and Instagram at least – are taking a million exciting and interesting family trips. Generally I’m just glad of the extra parent for a day, the chance to relax (a little bit),

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