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.

Will this woeful pestilence ever be gone?


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At 1.40am this morning my dreams were punctured by the sound of ear-splitting screams coming from the floor next to my bed.  I leaned over, my mind a fug, not sure exactly what was going on, and in my zombie-like state I picked up Piglet, who had rolled out of bed. Rolled out of bed….

I Am Miranda, and My Mother is Magda

I know, I know, I haven’t written on here in like, TEN DAYS, and I am, like, RUBS at this blogging malarkey, but the thing is, nothing has happened. Well, OK, work has happened, and Piglet catching conjunctivitis has happened. And Piglet spreading his conjunctivitis to Granny, so that Granny wakes up every morning with…