I want to go to a festival, but I don’t want to go to a festival. I like the idea of lolling in a field to great music but would the reality be me spending hundreds of pounds to basically be on… Read more →
Dear Winter, it’s not you, it’s me. It’s been a beautiful time we’ve spent together these past few months but I just don’t feel the same anymore. At the start it was exciting, you woo’d me with your blustery afternoons spent by… Read more →
Everyone is talking about having babies, ‘40-something: last chance saloon babies’. With the clock ticking getting louder, me and my mum contemporaries are wondering if we want to do it all again. I don’t know if I want another baby, my jury… Read more →
I’ve become dotty. I don’t mean polka dot bikini wearing. I mean sweetly deranged. Why is this happening… I turned 40, not 90. I don’t understand it. Well, I wouldn’t, I’m dotty now. I will probably never understand anything much again, even… Read more →
The first time I discovered the Kent countryside was Trevor McDonald on the News At Ten muddling up the vowels on those two words. (I didn’t understand why my parents were laughing so hard…). The second time I came across Kent was… Read more →
People often say it’s always the kids of the strictest parents, the vicars etc, that are the most wild teenagers. The strict upbringing resulting in rebelling against their parents. My own parents always let me do whatever I wanted. Which wasn’t much…. Read more →
I used to cut my daughter’s hair myself, bar the annual trip to Mr Snippers to tidy up the mess created. I guess no one goes into hairdressing wanting to become a kids’ hair specialist, as the stylists always looked dismayed that… Read more →
I kid myself I’ve come a long way from growing up in Shepherd’s Bush. I think I’m all middle class, because I shop in Waitrose. You can take the girl out of London, but you can’t take the London out of the… Read more →
I’ve applied for my daughter’s school place for a primary school. I’ve had to consider where I would like my child to grow up from age 7-11. This kind of mum responsibility forces me to consider all the fears I have about… Read more →
I’m struggling to get up to make my child breakfast. This is not because I’ve been out partying. It’s because the elderly man who lives above me goes to the toilet at 4am, every single night. He wakes me every night at… Read more →
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