Miss Cherry Red

This is the conversation I had not 20 minutes ago with Keira: Keira: Mummy Me: Yes? Keira: Can you help me write Father Christmas a letter? Me: Of course, what do you want to tell him? Keira: I want to say, Dear Father Christmas.  You don’t need to buy me a skateboard for christmas because [...]

There are several things about childbirth and life with a new born that I think every mum should be duty bound to tell their daughters.  Mine did not do such a hot job on filling me in on motherhoods little niggles. I know why too….. Because if she had, I’d have probably said no to [...]

It’s after 11pm.  I can hear the rain pelting against the bedroom window and the wind is so strong it sounds like the windows are going to blow in. I’m laid in bed, snuggled up to J.  All is calm, quiet and peaceful. I break the silence: Me: Why do you love me? WHAT!  SHUT UP!  [...]

I hate you. No.  I loathe you. I loathe everything about you, I loathe what you stand for, what you do.  The destruction and devastation you were responsible for leaving behind will be your final legacy. 8 years you were here, by his side.  Hardly short-term. You were the first and last thing he ever thought [...]

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say, It’s in the reach of my arms, The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I’m [...]

But Mummy, I doooo like them. Those are the pleas I hear from my 3 year old most weekends about baking. I love how our kitchen smells when filled with the aroma of vanilla buns cooking in the oven.  I love watching how Keira’s face lights up when I tell her it’s time to decorate [...]

It’s all about the Mo. Allegedly. J and a merry band of men from his work place are taking part in Movember. It’s an event aimed at raising awareness (and some well needed dough) for Prostate Cancer. I’m all for charity and raising awareness.  So much so that I’ve endured a whole day at work [...]

Check out my friend.  And I do mean her, not her breasts: For the record: the chap giving us the ‘v’ in the background is J.  I’ve cut him to spare his blushes. Back to the point at hand. She thinks she’s fugly. What the hell is fugly?  It’s not even a word.  I know [...]

The dress sucked. Which one?  The one in my ‘object of my affection’ post. I mean, Keira didn’t like it anyway.  I believe the term she used to describe it was ‘eugh’. Great – I’m taking fashion advice from a 3 year old whose favourite item of clothing is a bright pink lazy town track [...]

She’s 3 years old. I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to answer those kinds of questions till she was about 7 or 8. No such luck. I was enjoying a nice mug of tea after another long shitty day in telecoms when I look at the face of my 3 year old: innocent [...]