When I was little my grandparents lived in the house where my mother grew up. My grandad was ill and slept in the room that had once been my mother’s bedroom – complete with silver ceiling and hot pink walls. He died when I was really young, so really my Read more…
I grew up in the 1980s, a time when children’s shows were on TV for about an hour after school in the week, and a couple of hours on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Saturday afternoons were for the football scores, and Sunday afternoons were a time when we never even Read more…
I’ve mentioned before that I’m reading Bad Mother by Ayelet Waldman; I mentioned it in this post about the difference between a good mother and a good father. I’m really loving this book; it’s made me laugh out loud and also cry out loud. I’m beyond jealous that I cannot Read more…
In my very first memory, I am around two years old. I was having my nappy changed, laying on my parents’ bed. I remember holding my legs up and feeling good, being told I was being helpful. I remember my mum’s smile; I was being such a good girl, holding Read more…