October 2020

View image | gettyimages.com We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We love you, kids, this is for you”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We can do this, we used to do this”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Big, off-putting childcare costs. We’ve gotta go through it! Move near parents, think long term. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Too out of touch, expensive. We’ve gotta go through it! OH NO IT’S A REJECTION!!! Through the guilt, “Love you, kids, this is for you”, Through the doubt, “We can do this, we usedto do this”, Through the “no smart clothes”, ASOS, Primark, Through the childcare costs, move near parents, think long term, Through the overqualication, persevere, fight back, Run to the house, run up the stairs, Oh oh, forgot to shut the door! Run back downstairs, shut the door, Run back up, to the bedroom, Jump into bed, cuddle your family, YOU’RE THE BEST MUM IN THE WORLD! Adapted from and in homage to the wonderful children’s poem by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, We’re Going On A Bear Hunt.

Me with two of my three beautiful sons.

To my children

 Other mums are never late

Last mum standing at the school gate.

Other mums bake lovely cakes,

Their icing doesn’t run all over the plate.

Other mums on rainy days

Have fun lined up, go to a soft play.

Other mums never forget

Your sippy cup, book bag, a promise not met.

Other mums never break down,

Cry in front of you or even frown.

Other mums are playdate queens

There’s no one to whose house you’ve not been.

Other mums baby massage

You every night straight after your bath.

Other mums are calm first thing

Get ready for the day without shouting.

Other mums are super cooks,

Make healthy meals without a book.

Other mums know the next step

Research it, plan it, have it all in their heads.

Other mums don’t dry each grape

One by one ‘cos you like them that way.

Other mums steer clear of mud

Don’t let you sit in puddles you’ve jumped.

Other mums don’t catch your hand

When you stumble or struggle to understand.

Other mums don’t recognise

The grace of your body, the glory of your mind.

Other mums do things perfectly,

But no other mum loves you like me.

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Follow my blog with Bloglovin – my URL has changed so if you followed me before, please click here to follow my new site! 

Sports Day. Scene of competitive parenting across the land. We tell our children it’s the taking part that counts, but don’t we secretly want a raft of 1^st stickers? So what do you do when your child won’t even leave the starting line?

My child is a fast runner. He’s agile. He’s fearless. In our own garden. The park we go to all the time. On the fallen tree they like to climb.

But at Sports Day, he froze. It was his first ever sports day, at pre-school. The first race, a simple run to the end of the 30m track. A distance he covers many times a day.

But not in front of a crowd. Not with all the teachers watching, all his class, his big brother and his class, and a whole flank of parents on the other side of the track.

The starting signal went off. I can’t remember if it was a whistle, a shout, or what. All I can remember is my baby, walking along the track, his head in his shoulder, his hand held by his lovely teaching assistant, all the way to the end.

He cried all the way back to his classmates.

I felt like a sound boom had gone off and time had stopped. I felt everyone was watching me to see my reaction.

On one side, those who think children need to learn, they can’t be allowed to give up just because they don’t like something. All the other children were joining in, so why couldn’t he?

On the other side, those who wouldn’t make their child do anything they didn’t want to. Who think they’re too young for competition and discipline.

In the middle, me. Wanting to bring up a resilient child. And needing to take my four-year-old child up in my arms and make the world go away.

In slow motion, I flung the baby at a friend and ran round to the schoolchildren’s area – an action strictly forbidden in the welcoming notes. I asked if I could take him with me to the spectator side. Whether I should?

They said, try one more race.

So, flustered and dazed, I agreed.

When it was his turn again, I saw his anguish immediately. I ran over and asked if he’d like me to do the race with him. He nodded, but the whole way along he was palpably shaking and his head was bowed pitifully. Without consulting anyone, I swept him off to sit with me and spent the rest of the day trying to calm my terrified little boy.

I am open about my competitive streak – last year I wrote about how to win the mums race at sports day (as I did at my oldest child’s sports day). I’ve also joked about being a meerkat mother – like a Tiger Mother, but more cuddly.

I’m still competitive, as anyone who’s played Christmas games with me will testify.

But all that evaporated when I saw my son in tears. I didn’t care about winning, I just wanted to get him off that track.

That was last year.

This year, I arrived at Sports Day with some trepidation. My child has grown hugely in confidence this Reception year, thanks to his fantastic teacher and teaching assistant.

But I was still worried that the curse of the starting line would strike again. He’d enjoyed the practice races in PE, but how would he cope with so many mums and dads watching, plus the rest of the school?

His turn came, and he lined up with five of his classmates. They all looked so little. He gave me a little wave as I stood smiling encouragement from the sideline. The starting whistle went.

And he ran!

No tears, no help, no hesitation.

And what was really the cherry on top – he won!

As he ran back to his class, his little face was bursting with excitement and pride. Just as my heart was.

I wouldn’t have cared if he’d come last – really and truly. I was just so happy he’d found the confidence to participate.

Is your child a pro athlete when it comes to Sports Day, or does s/he hate the pressure and crowds?

Me with two of my three beautiful sons.

To my children

 Other mums are never late

Last mum standing at the school gate.

Other mums bake lovely cakes,

Their icing doesn’t run all over the plate.

Other mums on rainy days

Have fun lined up, go to a soft play.

Other mums never forget

Your sippy cup, book bag, a promise not met.

Other mums never break down,

Cry in front of you or even frown.

Other mums are playdate queens

There’s no one to whose house you’ve not been.

Other mums baby massage

You every night straight after your bath.

Other mums are calm first thing

Get ready for the day without shouting.

Other mums are super cooks,

Make healthy meals without a book.

Other mums know the next step

Research it, plan it, have it all in their heads.

Other mums don’t dry each grape

One by one ‘cos you like them that way.

Other mums steer clear of mud

Don’t let you sit in puddles you’ve jumped.

Other mums don’t catch your hand

When you stumble or struggle to understand.

Other mums don’t recognise

The grace of your body, the glory of your mind.

Other mums do things perfectly,

But no other mum loves you like me.

Like this? Like me on Facebook.

Follow my blog with Bloglovin – my URL has changed so if you followed me before, please click here to follow my new site! 

Can’t fit in date night? Got a long journey coming up? Why not combine the two and make it a Date Trip? 

Date Trip

We’re always saying we need to spend more time together. We were due to visit my in laws during half term – a tasty five-hour trip, and that’s with no stops. It was like a great plan coming together! Five-plus hours of each other’s undivided company. Five hours with no escape. 

Date Trip Essentials

A car. With no petrol in it (important).

As many kids as you own.

An alluring outfit – one that attracts all manner of stains and deposits as you handle a constant conveyor belt of snacks, rubbish and half-full smoothie cartons. Plus several coats for when the driver decides it is Too Hot and whacks the blower on. 

Unlimited snacks but limited drinks (wee stops will spoil the flow. But you will need the loo just as the baby finally drops off into the Sleep That Has To Last Till We Get There).

Lots and lots of traffic and roadworks.

Rain. As heavy as possible.

All the electronic devices you own, all running out of charge.

A truly terrible audiobook (we had The Magic Faraway Tree. Awful.).

A Relationship in Microcosm

So we set off. 330 miles ahead of us. 330 miles over which to “reignite romance”. And sure enough, as the journey progressed, it was like the unfolding of our story so far:

Heady Happiness. So glad we had finally got together. No more popping back into the house.

The First Argument. “I thought you might have filled up yesterday.” “I thought you might have packed your own pants.”

The Make-Up. “I got you a Double Decker when I went to the loo.” “I’ve wiped the smoothie off your seat.”

The Proposal. Trent or Stafford services?

The Marriage. We walk together up the aisle of WHSmith, our kids scattering stolen pick’n’mix and freebies from the CBeebies magazine like confetti.

The Kids. “Will you please stop arguing or daddy will crash the car!” “Yes, there’s still four hours to go. Yes, that’s a long time. 240 minutes.” “Who wants some Maltesers?!”

The Humdrum. “Oh, by the way – did you pay the water?” “When’s parent’s evening again?” “Did you put my suit in?” “Can we retire to the coast? Pleease?”

The Big Row. “I am reaching into the boot with my bum in the windscreen to get the snacks that I told you to put by my feet, will you not jerk the car like that. And you never buy me flowers any more.”

The Simmer. We both stare moodily out of our respective windows.

The Row Nostalgia. “Your bum in the windscreen” *sniggers*. 

The Nostalgia. “Remember that road trip on honeymoon when you had the runs?”

The Renewal of Vows. *Husband presses something in the palm of my hand* “I thought you’d eaten all the Mini Eggs?” Our melted-chocolate paws rest together briefly on the gear-stick. “I saved the last ones for you.”

So far, so smushy. There’s just one teeny, tiny snag to this model. And I’m sure you’ve spotted it. No booze. Nope, even though I wasn’t going to be driving, I’m not quite mean enough (yet!) to swig from a “7Up” bottle while sitting next to him. Anyway, the wee stops would be ridiculous.  

A date trip may be your idea of hell. But it’s your little hell. And if you can pass the M6 test, sober and child-locked-in, then who needs date nights? You’re already there. 

Me with two of my three beautiful sons.

To my children

 Other mums are never late

Last mum standing at the school gate.

Other mums bake lovely cakes,

Their icing doesn’t run all over the plate.

Other mums on rainy days

Have fun lined up, go to a soft play.

Other mums never forget

Your sippy cup, book bag, a promise not met.

Other mums never break down,

Cry in front of you or even frown.

Other mums are playdate queens

There’s no one to whose house you’ve not been.

Other mums baby massage

You every night straight after your bath.

Other mums are calm first thing

Get ready for the day without shouting.

Other mums are super cooks,

Make healthy meals without a book.

Other mums know the next step

Research it, plan it, have it all in their heads.

Other mums don’t dry each grape

One by one ‘cos you like them that way.

Other mums steer clear of mud

Don’t let you sit in puddles you’ve jumped.

Other mums don’t catch your hand

When you stumble or struggle to understand.

Other mums don’t recognise

The grace of your body, the glory of your mind.

Other mums do things perfectly,

But no other mum loves you like me.

Like this? Like me on Facebook.

Follow my blog with Bloglovin – my URL has changed so if you followed me before, please click here to follow my new site! 

Every relationship has its ups and downs. I guess I should be happy ours has lasted so many years. But he has done something unforgivable. Is this the end for me and Freddo?

I love Freddo. Everyone knows that. But something happened this week that I’m not sure I can get over. It wasn’t exactly his fault. But I’m going to blame him anyway. 

So, my other big love is my washing machine. OK, who likes laundry? But we have to do it, so to have a friendly, functioning washing machine is the underpinning of any mum’s sanity. That 15 minute rapido wash has got me out of hot water many a time when I’ve uncracked the PE kit from its muddy confines on a Monday morning. But a few days ago, it turned on me. Wash after wash was interrupted by an angry triple beep and scary warning sign. Which I ignored, switched off and on, set to spin and parked it for my husband to look at. He did, a day or so later. He emptied the filter, all was well.

Except it wasn’t. The next day, the same thing happened. Nefarious activity was afoot. The laundry mountain was higher than me. Pant stocks were running low. 

My poor husband again spend the evening knelt by the washing machine – though to be fair, this is where I spend most of my time so I’m not too sympathetic. At about 11pm, he came out, smiling grimly. “Do you know what it was?” I shook my head apprehensively. “THIS was stuck up the detergent pipe.”

Reader, it was a crumpled up and thoroughly washed…Freddo frog wrapper.

Oh, the irony. 

But I guess Freddo might say in his own defence – well, you do bite my head off at least once a day. 

Like me on Facebook!

Other Freddo-related posts:

Trick or Treat: When Chocolate Goes Fright Night In which Freddo allows himself to be despoiled by the terror that is popping candy. I forgave him – but only just.

View image | gettyimages.com We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We love you, kids, this is for you”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We can do this, we used to do this”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Big, off-putting childcare costs. We’ve gotta go through it! Move near parents, think long term. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Too out of touch, expensive. We’ve gotta go through it! OH NO IT’S A REJECTION!!! Through the guilt, “Love you, kids, this is for you”, Through the doubt, “We can do this, we usedto do this”, Through the “no smart clothes”, ASOS, Primark, Through the childcare costs, move near parents, think long term, Through the overqualication, persevere, fight back, Run to the house, run up the stairs, Oh oh, forgot to shut the door! Run back downstairs, shut the door, Run back up, to the bedroom, Jump into bed, cuddle your family, YOU’RE THE BEST MUM IN THE WORLD! Adapted from and in homage to the wonderful children’s poem by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, We’re Going On A Bear Hunt.

Can’t fit in date night? Got a long journey coming up? Why not combine the two and make it a Date Trip? 

Date Trip

We’re always saying we need to spend more time together. We were due to visit my in laws during half term – a tasty five-hour trip, and that’s with no stops. It was like a great plan coming together! Five-plus hours of each other’s undivided company. Five hours with no escape. 

Date Trip Essentials

A car. With no petrol in it (important).

As many kids as you own.

An alluring outfit – one that attracts all manner of stains and deposits as you handle a constant conveyor belt of snacks, rubbish and half-full smoothie cartons. Plus several coats for when the driver decides it is Too Hot and whacks the blower on. 

Unlimited snacks but limited drinks (wee stops will spoil the flow. But you will need the loo just as the baby finally drops off into the Sleep That Has To Last Till We Get There).

Lots and lots of traffic and roadworks.

Rain. As heavy as possible.

All the electronic devices you own, all running out of charge.

A truly terrible audiobook (we had The Magic Faraway Tree. Awful.).

A Relationship in Microcosm

So we set off. 330 miles ahead of us. 330 miles over which to “reignite romance”. And sure enough, as the journey progressed, it was like the unfolding of our story so far:

Heady Happiness. So glad we had finally got together. No more popping back into the house.

The First Argument. “I thought you might have filled up yesterday.” “I thought you might have packed your own pants.”

The Make-Up. “I got you a Double Decker when I went to the loo.” “I’ve wiped the smoothie off your seat.”

The Proposal. Trent or Stafford services?

The Marriage. We walk together up the aisle of WHSmith, our kids scattering stolen pick’n’mix and freebies from the CBeebies magazine like confetti.

The Kids. “Will you please stop arguing or daddy will crash the car!” “Yes, there’s still four hours to go. Yes, that’s a long time. 240 minutes.” “Who wants some Maltesers?!”

The Humdrum. “Oh, by the way – did you pay the water?” “When’s parent’s evening again?” “Did you put my suit in?” “Can we retire to the coast? Pleease?”

The Big Row. “I am reaching into the boot with my bum in the windscreen to get the snacks that I told you to put by my feet, will you not jerk the car like that. And you never buy me flowers any more.”

The Simmer. We both stare moodily out of our respective windows.

The Row Nostalgia. “Your bum in the windscreen” *sniggers*. 

The Nostalgia. “Remember that road trip on honeymoon when you had the runs?”

The Renewal of Vows. *Husband presses something in the palm of my hand* “I thought you’d eaten all the Mini Eggs?” Our melted-chocolate paws rest together briefly on the gear-stick. “I saved the last ones for you.”

So far, so smushy. There’s just one teeny, tiny snag to this model. And I’m sure you’ve spotted it. No booze. Nope, even though I wasn’t going to be driving, I’m not quite mean enough (yet!) to swig from a “7Up” bottle while sitting next to him. Anyway, the wee stops would be ridiculous.  

A date trip may be your idea of hell. But it’s your little hell. And if you can pass the M6 test, sober and child-locked-in, then who needs date nights? You’re already there. 

View image | gettyimages.com We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We love you, kids, this is for you”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! “We can do this, we used to do this”. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, We’ve gotta go through it! We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Big, off-putting childcare costs. We’ve gotta go through it! Move near parents, think long term. We’re going on a job hunt, We’re gonna catch a big one, Too out of touch, expensive. We’ve gotta go through it! OH NO IT’S A REJECTION!!! Through the guilt, “Love you, kids, this is for you”, Through the doubt, “We can do this, we usedto do this”, Through the “no smart clothes”, ASOS, Primark, Through the childcare costs, move near parents, think long term, Through the overqualication, persevere, fight back, Run to the house, run up the stairs, Oh oh, forgot to shut the door! Run back downstairs, shut the door, Run back up, to the bedroom, Jump into bed, cuddle your family, YOU’RE THE BEST MUM IN THE WORLD! Adapted from and in homage to the wonderful children’s poem by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, We’re Going On A Bear Hunt.