Ironically whenever I play that classic ode to slumber by The Chordettes I can’t help but lay awake reminiscing John Candy’s faultless performance as Uncle Buck as opposed to actually closing my eyes and drifting off to the land of nod. For me sleep is an illusive beast. It never used to be such a... Continue Reading →
Looking back, I’ve always had more belief in songs than I have in religion. I don’t mean that to sound derogatory or offensive, in a lot of ways I envy others of such resolute devotion to their chosen institution. But for me, I never really got it, to be honest from a young age I... Continue Reading →
Fear not, I’m not a disgraced medical professional’s widow on the warpath. For one, the last time I went blonde I resembled a mangy rescued mongrel after having to cut out chunks of matted hair with the kitchen scissors, and secondly, my sanity can barely withstand over an hour at a soft play centre with... Continue Reading →
Ever notice how when someone shines the spotlight on you, your brain immediately freezes? Every prior thought drains from you like rats fleeing a sinking ship. No? Just me then! I'd say I'm similar to Khaleesi, minus the dragons and the body. I'm more Maker of Chains and First to the Toilet than rightful heir... Continue Reading →
Yes, it’s that time of year again. When, if like myself, you’re in charge of mini-people, you prepare to take a deep inhalation of breath as you squeeze through the toy aisles only to be shafted by the manufacturers who seem to affix prices with the randomness of the FA cup draw. The season when... Continue Reading →
Some monsters don’t lurk under your bed; they lay right beside you in it. I’ll be honest with you, I wasn’t the coolest kid growing up. I’ve never had a ‘squad’ and I’ve always been more geek life than thug life. While everyone wore their Take That and Party t-shirts I was writing to my... Continue Reading →
I suppose the correct universal term is ‘parent guilt’ but stuff the PC brigade, I’m going to be gender specific and divulge my understanding of the blasted mummy guilt. I do concede it is an imposed assumption of wrongdoing that afflicts both parties once you take ownership of a mini-person. The truth is, my first... Continue Reading →
The phrase death and taxes doesn’t sit right with me; I’ve never once been on the phone to Tax Credits, usually multitasking the pots with putting a wash on while on hold for 20+ minutes, the phone cradled between my shoulder and ear, and some scythe wielding deity of the underworld has materialised in my... Continue Reading →
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