Pushchairs vs wheelchairs: let the battle commence

It wasn’t so long ago that I read a news story about a disabled man who took a bus company to court after a passenger with a pushchair refused to move out of a designated disabled space on the bus. What a disgrace! I can recall thinking.  I would NEVER be so impudent as to claim…

The Insane Toddler Interest in Large Vehicles: Part 1

Today, finally, following two busy Saturdays spent in London, what seems like endless weeks of work and almost a week of illness (mine.  I am still praying that Piglet doesn’t receive the gift of my pestilence) I finally spent some time with Piglet. Mummy and Piglet time. So, what did we do with this precious…

A-DA!

As regular readers of this blog will attest, Piglet is a man of few words. The words are: “BBBBBBB-AAAALLL.”  This means “ball,” and is proclaimed whenever a ball comes into view.  Even a rugby ball, which I maintain is proof of Piglet’s budding intellectualism, as rugby balls aren’t even real balls.  They aren’t even circular,…

How about…let’s teach men not to rape, OK?

So today I fell victim to the curse of public transport known as the Angry Bus Driver. I don’t know what it is about bus drivers.  I’ve never been one, so I perhaps they just have an incredibly stressful job (who doesn’t?) and don’t get paid enough (who does?) but many of them seem to…

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,…

Haters Gonna Hate

Ladies and gentlemen, I have been well and truly JUDGED. And I say to thee, Ye Olde Judgey McJudgeys of Wembley, if you are thinking that someone has made a terrible parenting faux pas, unless it is quite clear that the parenting in question constitutes actual child abuse, please keep your thoughts to yourself. Yesterday…

THANKS AGAIN TFL.

Most.  Unproductive.  Day.  Ever. Piglet woke up this morning at 7.30am, which I understand from my fellow parentals is usually described as “late.”  For me, this is obscenely early, and I spent over an hour whimpering “Go back to sleep” whilst being enthusiastically hit in the face by an increasingly perky baby.  Once I finally…

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…