Breastfeeding: I Did It My Way

And now, the end is here. And so we reach the final curtain. Blah blah blah whatever the lyrics are (sorry Frank, but eighties Madonna is more my karaoke of choice). I did it my way. A year ago, I wrote a piece about breastfeeding a three year old, and various media outlets picked it…

Why I Am Still Breastfeeding My Three Year Old

It is now almost three years since I first latched Piglet to my breast that surreal morning in the hospital.  Technically, he is not yet three, but unless he suddenly weans in the next few weeks, it looks as though I will have a nursing three year old.  I am fully prepared for the onslaught…

Bath, Book, Bed? I Should Be So Lucky

The evening routine is not something I have ever really got the hang of.  I am not a routine person.  Mornings are for rushing out of the door barely dressed and with a toddler still mewling at the outrage of being torn from the comforting catatonic vigil of back to back Paw Patrol and Fireman…

Bridget Jones’ Baby

I have yet to see the new film, but I like to imagine that Bridget Jones’ baby is rollin’ something like this. At least they will be if they are anything like my, um, toddler. 10th September 2016 Weight: About a stone, apparently (Mummy says scales not entirely accurate as keep saying she is half…

Extended Breastfeeding and Parenting Judgement

Before I had a child, there were many things that I thought I would never do.  Bribing my child with biscuits to get them to sit in a pushchair, for one (clearly any child of mine was going to come running from the swings and willingly climb into the pushchair with nothing more than a…

Poor Mummy

I never used to be ill. I was one of those people for whom making it through a school year without taking a day off was both a source of pride, and a regular occurrence. Then I had a baby.

More Unsolicited Advice from the Good People of Wembley

So I regale you with yet another tale of how when you have a baby, everyone considers it their God-given right to tell you how to parent. I had, as usual, carefully considered how Piglet and I were presenting ourselves to the world, in order to deflect any unwanted comments.  Piglet was wearing his snowsuit,…

And the winner of the Best Dressed Baby Award is….

It sounds like something out of the Smash Hits Poll Winners Party circa 1993, but it’s official, I have the best dressed baby in Wembley.  Winner of the Elle Style Awards, Special Commendation from Anna Wintour, Vogue Baby of the Year.  Move over Blue Ivy, Prince George and North West.  Yes, the play worker at…

Expressing Milk Attempt no. 1: Abject Failure

11pm and Piglet is lying in his co-sleeper, shouting.  God knows what the neighbours must think.  Frankly I’m amazed I haven’t had a note through the door telling me to keep the noise down, and while we’re at it, social services have been called.  In fact, everybody in my building must see a good deal…

The Kindness of Strangers.

Why is it that every time I go out, no matter how many times I have fed Piglet (and no matter how many times he has tried to escape from the Hide-the-Boob Tent), and even if I have fed him immediately before leaving wherever I am, by the time he gets on the train home…