Most people won’t have noticed, many probably won’t care. But I care, you cut me like a knife and the wound is still open. You left me… What did I …
Sometimes I can be a real arse of a mother, I shout too much, I often expect too much and sometimes the whole enormity of being mother to three small people threatens to overwhelm me.
My oldest daughter is a bouncing ball full of bubbling energy who flies through life experiencing a rainbow of emotions. She finds it impossible to tell a lie, her face becomes a roadmap of fibs which all end in the final destination of giggles, and she says some flipping marvellous things without ever looking to disguise the truth.
It’s amazing to realise that something that was horrific the first time can become normal by the third.
We are at the half way point; BB has lived for six weeks in spica. She has coped incredibly and has challeng
I was just walking blissfully in the sunlight, basking in the joy of the working week ending and the weekend kicking in.
As I cruised through the streets a vibrant pink package on the floor caught my eye and a wave of sadness washed over me.