We exist in a weird kind of love/ hate relationship you and I. On one hand, you give me a tool to motivate my four almost five year old to get shit done. She’s that obsessed with you all, she will pretty much comply to any of my demands- teeth, eating, dressing, tidying her room-… Continue reading Dear family you tubers.
It was a blink of an eye ago, the day you became mine. My little silver backed gorilla, so angry at being ripped out of my safe warm belly and thrust into a world so loud and bright. Was that really 18 years ago? 18 years ago you made me a mama. 18 years ago… Continue reading Slipping through my fingers
I've been feeling absolutely pants this week. Worse than I have for a while and it's already been a crappy winter. Then out of the blue I get an email from my editor at themighty.com telling me another editor from babble.com wants to publish one of my articles. Sometimes I think the universe is trying… Continue reading Finding Hope, when all seems lost.
I'm lonely. I'm going to die too soon. I must write a will. I hope I don't give my children my illness. I'm a terrible mother and a failure. How am I going to get everyone to school tomorrow? I hurt. I wish I didn't hurt. Damn it I forgot to put the washing on.… Continue reading Inside the mind of someone chronically ill at night
I've just pulled a double all nighter. Unlike in the late nineties this wasn't all sex, drugs, rock and roll; more snot, baby crack and screaming. You I'm exhausted. In all honesty, exhausted doesn't even begin to cover it. Before my toddler became ill with a run of the mill viral infection, I… Continue reading Hitting the wall
It's a new year, and the beginning of a new chapter for me. Single, pushing forty, mother of four, chronically ill. To say the concept of that version of 'me' was daunting is an understatement. It's not the dream to have four kids with two different fathers and be in the position I am currently… Continue reading Shifting sands
"I don't want you to go out anywhere on your own mummy, because the bad people might hurt you". These were the words my nine year old daughter uttered at bedtime on Monday night. I remember so clearly that feeling as a child when bad things happened, the overwhelming fear and concern for my parents… Continue reading #NotInMyName
I've realised lately that I'm a stubborn old goat. I've been barely holding it together, but for some reason I find it almost impossible to ask for help. I've been thinking a lot about why this is, and I've settled on the fact that I don't want to appear needy, or lose my independence by… Continue reading My own biggest critic
I have just returned from an epic mission driving from southern normandy, france, to deepest darkest cornwall. We made this joureny via the channel tunnel, and as with most Brits, we are anxious about what we might see and experience on the french side. As it happens, we were swept through seeing very little other… Continue reading The Language of Fear
There are few pleasures greater than singing nursery rhymes with your two year old. To have their spikey little finger 'tickle you under there' warms the soul like nothing else. I have been bed bound for a week now. That's a lie. I did venture out in the car to the playground once, and struggled… Continue reading Never to walk in anyone’s shadow