• Mums and their sons,  parenting,  People I don't want to know,  Relationships,  The Adventures of Mum and Dad,  Uncategorized

    Worlds Best Parent. Ever. Full Stop.

    I have to admit I was riding high, thinking I was the best new mum in the world when I went to my second maternal health check. Sure we didn’t have it all figured out, but from where I stood, we were smashing it –  bub was still alive, we were yet to drop him (on a very hard surface) and I’d started vacuuming our carpet at least once a month in anticipation that he might, you know, one day crawl and the last thing I wanted was him choking on the remnants of a truffle flavoured potato crisp from our earlier, decadent child-free days. There was no hiding it,…

  • An adequate mother,  I'm not 'special',  Lady stuff,  parenting

    With All Seriousness

    ‘You’re a mum now Lou’ my friend informed me as I sat before her, tea in hand, despair draping my face. ‘You’re going to have to learn to deal with it.’ I silently opened a packet of Teddy Bear biscuits as she continued. ‘You’re just won’t be able to be funny anymore. Happens to the best of us. I use to be fucking Conan O’Brien till I had kids. Now everything I say comes across as if I’m giving a speech at the Hague.’ And just like that, she had confirmed my deepest fears – that now I’m a mum, everything I say and do will forever be read and…

  • An adequate mother,  parenting,  pregnancy

    Diary of An Adequate Mother

    A few months ago I found out I was pregnant.  ‘How did this happen?’ I asked legs spread atop the toilet seat, testing for the third time that morning. ‘You pretty much did that’ my boyfriend replied smugly, motioning to my legs akimbo. Now to be perfectly candid, we had talked about having kids for while, even getting a rescue dog at one point and naming it ‘training baby’* but talking is theoretical. I’m the greatest mum in the world, theoretically. A Full House remount is great, theoretically.  The new Milo bar was meant to be great, theoretically! My point is, lots of things are great theoretically, but the actual real…

  • Lady stuff

    I’d F**k A Funny Woman Any Day.

    I find women funnier. I just do. There, it’s said. It’s out there. For years I’ve taken a diplomatic stance – funny is funny no matter what the gender, no matter who is telling the joke, but who was I kidding, give me an Amy over an Arj any day. Now by no means is that meant to be taken as a disparaging comment on the Arj’s of the world, it’s just that my pen is inked from a different well, um, a well of ladies. I was born this way. From the moment I came into the world, as my mother looked at my tanned skin and joked between puffs ‘oh look, she’s nicotine stained’…it…

  • To whom it concerns...

    Being fat in the ’90s.

    I was fat. See this photo. In this photo what you see here is me, sitting, being fat. I was probably being funny too, cause that’s what fat girls do best, funny. You can’t see it, but I reckon everyone in the room was laughing at something I’d just said. Somebody probably peed his or her pants. So back to the photo and me being fat in it. I know I was fat because at the time this was taken I was constantly being picked on for my weight whether it be by ‘friends’ in the playground, or ‘friends’ of my parents commenting on my ‘full figure’ or my grandmother…

  • Mums and their sons

    ‘I’m not your pimp mum; ask dad’ and other things I can envisage being said to me one day…

    At a BBQ on the weekend, a friend of mine after checking I was single, over my slight thing for sexually ambiguous and in some cases ambitious men, wasn’t a little bit gay as was the current rumour of the day or celibate, declared to me that she had found me the perfect guy  – her son. ‘He’s good looking’ ‘All mother’s say that.’ ‘Yes, but I can appreciate his good looks not only as a mother, but also as a woman.’ ‘This is how Norman Bates got started…’ ‘No, you’re wrong there – maybe if Mrs Bates had appreciated her sons beauty then he wouldn’t have done the horrid…