The best things in life are free, and money can’t buy you all the lovely stuff like hugs and giggles blah blah blah.
But there are some things money can buy and they have made my life a bit easier this last year. Continue reading
Author: Laura Scott
A birth is a birth
Signing up to NCT classes was – for us – among the best money we’ve ever spent on parenthood.
This isn’t because of the graphic photos that put the fear of God into everyone in the room (including the Dads), or even the bum-change practice with pretty realistic dirty nappies (English mustard and pesto are ruined for me). No, the reason why I’d pay for them again and again is because we met people going through exactly the same thing, at exactly the same time and now have friends for (I hope) life.
The one time my memory fails me
Photographic proof: uncanny, eh?
Does anyone actually remember being pregnant?
I mean, I accept that I was – there is photographic evidence (and indeed a child) to prove it. I remember moaning about the heat, my feet, my back and heartburn, and I remember wearing bigger clothes for 6 months. I remember going down to the hospital for appointments, not drinking wine for 9 months, avoiding cheese and rare steak, sushi and uncooked eggs (although I do that as standard…raw eggs have never really appealed). Continue reading
My (annoying) memory lane
Beached: Taken a year ago yesterday (honestly)
Anyone that knows me well knows that I have an annoyingly good memory. I remember the useless stuff – what I wore to something or other, what the weather was like on such-and-such a day, and (most important of all, I’m sure you’ll agree) what I – and others – ate on these occasions. Continue reading
Feeding an imagination
These days I spend a lot of time singing. I sing nonsense, mainly (a holiday highlight for Bear last month was being danced around the room to the Shake n Vac song. Rock and roll, eh?)
Hindsight is a wonderful thing…
24 hours old
I used to look at Mums with older babies and think “well you must be a pro”. Do I feel like a pro, with a baby who is nearly 1? Do I hell. Every day I make this mummying lark up, and I end each day with a metaphorical high-five. She’s fed, watered and happy: go me!
Chatterbox Mummy 