‘Just’ The One
This week, my friend Tom wrote a fantastic post about his reasoning behind why him and his husband are sticking to one child, and it got me thinking about my experiences and how it’s unlikely we will ever have another. When we first started our parenting journey, our aim was always for the one baby.
When the screaming starts, you’re thrown from a deep sleep at a startling rate – trying to ascertain whether tonight is going to be a ‘Good Night’ or a ‘Bad Night’. Your baby sounds terrified and when you look at him he’s not with you. He’s often elsewhere. In his own mind. A ‘Good Night’
Over the past few weeks, we’ve recently started to introduce the next stage of Lego into T’s life. He mainly played with the larger version; Duplo, previously, although to be honest, he still does, but when family bought round a tub of Lego, he was fascinated at the little pieces. He loved creating little cars
By now you should know that we’re a two mum family – so this isn’t what this post is about. When I was ten years old I lost my dad to cancer. It was two days before my birthday. Father’s Days from then on were pretty bleak. We didn’t really have anyone else to celebrate
With T being the grand old age of two we did not yet think we would need to even *think* about potty training, let alone buying a potty and then a training seat because he preferred to stick the potty on his head. We’d heard stories of boys being particularly lazy when it comes to
Let me start by telling you a story about fears… It’s nineteen-ninety something and my sister and I are between 5 and 10 years old. We’re in France with our mum and dad, in the days before the euro. We’re walking down a busy French high street in Calais. It’s probably the size of Oxford Street.