Welsh mum living and blogging in SE England. Attempting to stage manage this parenting gig with the aid of lindyhop, whisky and sarcasm.
Hi, I'm Nicola Wiggins. I was born and bred in North Wales, but after meeting my husband at university, now reside in the South East of England. I have two sons, one born September 2013 and my youngest, born January 2016.
I blog over at www.mummywales.blogspot.com about family life, my attempts at baking and homebrew, and about things that either annoy me or I think others may find useful. Sarcasm features frequently, as do mentions of whisky and chickens.
You can find me on Facebook (www.facebook.com/mummywales), on Twitter (www.twitter.com/mummy_wales) and on Instagram (www.instagram.com/mummy_wales1).
I'm not the perfect mum - there have been ups and downs. But I don't want to look back at my blog in years to come and wonder if I was ever happy. Because I am. Writing events down commits them to memory. And I want to remember the happy moments. Don't you?
That was, undeniably, the main thought running through my head in the first few months after my eldest, Little O, was born. That, and 'what the hell have I done', 'where did I put the sodding Sudocrem' and wondering when my downstairs would stop feeling like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion.
It's that time of year again: the minivan flower-sellers are out, Clinton's shop-fronts glisten, red-glittered and teddy-beared, on the high street and you can't buy your M&S lunch without having to skirt the mountain of champagne bottles in the walkway (how very middle-class, daaarling).
I've been back at work for two weeks and already I can feel the old syndrome is kicking in: destroying my posture by slouching forward onto my desk, resisting the need for caffeine, every hour, on the hour, feeling the urgency in every single task.
Right. Now you're paying attention, I'm going to relay the three things I personally wish someone had told me whilst I was working towards getting sprogged up. They are rather general, I grant you, but are meant with the sincerest of intentions and I hope they prove useful.
Unfortunately, career changes mean starting at the bottom. Or they mean working evenings and weekends, building up a business or working freelance, and missing out on family time. What's the other choice? Oh, yeah. Work part-time for peanuts whilst paying what feels like a billion pounds for childcare.
30/12/2016 16:03 GMT
SUBSCRIBE AND FOLLOW
Get top stories and blog posts emailed to me each day. Newsletters may offer personalized content or advertisements.