Some people say that all women end up turning into their mother at some stage. I’ve never believed that’s true. Until I found myself one day last week kneeling down in the middle of Dunnes and insisting that the small boy whip off his t-shirt so I could try a few tops on him. Continue reading Thought I was turning into my mother there for a sec
My baby was 5 recently.
A whole half a decade.
The time has flown by but of course, like every parent, I can barely remember what life was like without him.
I look at him now – so tall, so grown up, so articulate, so funny, so capable of pushing my buttons at a moment’s notice – and realise how enriched my life has become since he came into it. Continue reading A better person
I am a girl.
Well, I’m actually a woman.
But in the context of being the mother of a four year old boy, I’m a girl.
I fart. Loudly and with impunity. Continue reading Girls fart
There’s been a quiet absence in my life for a while now. It’s something that I’ve only realised recently but it has been gone for quite some time.
Life is so busy. There’s rushing to and from work, work itself, crèche drop offs and pick ups, shopping to be done, dinners to be made, stories to be read, tickles to be delivered, swimming lessons to go to, extended family commitments, juggling different work schedules, trying to get some exercise in, all those things. Life at full speed – as life is, you might say. Continue reading Lost art of conversation