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Monthly Archives: April 2011

nutso

  It was Henry's first day back at school today and Tilly announced it would be her special day too. To qualify, it had to involve: making gingerbread men, picking flowers, painting a rainbow, and peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.  I've been feeling a bit guilty about my middle child […]

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brothers and sisters

Brothers and sisters. I love mine. Adore them, actually. I know I'm lucky. I love them because they're awesome and not nut cases.    My Mum loves her sister and brother. As a kid I used to adore it when they got together, particularly Mum and her sister, they would […]

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how we become parents

It's not all about the birthing. Or the nursing or the sleeplessness or the timeless, endless juggle. Actually for me it's not about that at all.  It's about the yards, really, the hard yards. And if you'd told me in the beginning that holding a sick child would be a […]

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not such a Good Friday

  It's never a great day when you take your baby to the doctor (again) and they suggest you go to the hospital.  But even when they diagnose pneumonia, there are things to be grateful for. (I know, I'm like a disease.) : Grateful for being away on holiday and […]

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away

We got in the car yesterday, and drove for eight hours, and here we are on holidays.  We're so incredibly lucky the kids travel peacefully and happily without exception (OK, one "I'm BORED") from the four year old which was assuaged by a square of chocolate and the old portable […]

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this moment

Joining in with Soulemama: A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. One to remember.   xxx

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recipe for flat bread

  I had a good flatbread recipe, briefly. My sister Naomi emailed it, I made it, it rocked, lost the recipe. Goneski.  While procrastinating asking for the recipe again, I started making this one.  It's a cobbled together recipe from about three sources, I think it's close to Naomi's 'cept […]

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while she was sleeping

I remember the first time I ticked "home duties" on a form asking for my occupation. It needled and I wasn't proud.  If you'd asked me when I was fifteen, or twenty-five, how I'd feel about being a full time homemaker, I would have snorted my fair trade coffee up […]

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sometimes poetry is a cucumber

The first vegetable I ever grew. Harvested today. Cool, hey! Also, I have a sick and uncharacteristically miserable baby. Headcold, bit of fever, bit of throwing up, poor wee mite. Lots of cuddles and sips of water and 'osh, osh, osh'-ing (this family's version of hush.) The cucumber can wait. […]

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