It took a recent hangover to realise the closest I’ll come to meeting my 5 a day is a fruit smoothie. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not averse to veggies, it’s more the false advertising I endured as a child that has left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Take the humble carrot for example,... Continue Reading →
I was a clumsy kid; some things don’t change. I’ve lost count of the fractures I accumulated in my early years, but it never bothered me. At that age you attained almost celebrity status once that magical cast was set over your damaged limb. Suddenly kids you never knew couldn’t wait to pen their name... 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 →
I’ll be honest with you, before the mini people arrived on the scene, the most nerve wracking a bowel movement got was when the gorilla’s thumb was poking out and I’d forgotten to get another loo roll before unceremoniously parking my rear on the throne. In my book there’s no better start to the day... Continue Reading →
If you’re reading this, you may have cottoned on by the title, that I am a ma-hoo-sive Stranger Things fan! Seriously I’ve lost count of the times I’ve binge watched both series whilst unceremoniously anointing myself in crumbs from scoffing one too many chocolate digestives. However, my devotion to it goes beyond the van flips... Continue Reading →
If you’re reading this, that means you’re somewhere around the zone I was about 6 years ago, post pregnancy, post breakdown; when I caught sight of my ramshackle self and not only didn’t recognise my face or body, but I was wearing the clothes my mother had purchased for me from Bon March as opposed... 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 →
I don’t know when it happened, but at some point I went from a 20+ something belting out one of Blur’s greatest hits with an oversized pint as they closed Glastonbury, to a 30+ something wedged halfway down a Little Tykes slide! It had to be on the rare day I was wearing shorts; the... Continue Reading →
I know what you’re thinking; what does that fitty from GoT have to do with accepting your body, but that exquisite example of prime time jailbait is the namesake for my pelvic floor tear which for years I avoided touching, let alone braving the mirror #thelaceswereintheywerein (honestly it looked like a blind man had used... Continue Reading →
Guys I get it, as a woman I totally relate to why you’re so captivated by knockers – those hypnotic fun bags of joy could keep the best of us entranced for hours. What’s not to love eh?! But, from a woman’s perspective, more specifically mine, I’ve found there to be a few drawbacks. Firstly,... Continue Reading →
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