Having our two children is all we've wanted, we are so in love and complete. I don't want to miss this, to forget the important parts of raising our boys by getting lost in impossible and ultimately unimportant standards which are completely self-imposed.Because I am already doing a great job, and so are you.
Watching yourself transform into Mother is life changing. You live and breathe motherhood and devote every waking hour to becoming the best mother you can be as you grow in love, understanding and compassion every day.
How many times have you sat down to watch the Olympic Games and thought 'I know exactly how that feels'? Not often right, but perhaps we as parents should. It struck me recently that parenting is actually not dissimilar to this sporting event, with numerous hurdles, sprints and relay's taking place all the time.
Every time a female politician begins a statement with "as a mother" I tend to switch off. It's a patronising and lazy way to give yourself authority on a subject. "As a mother" doesn't mean anything other than you may know your own offspring quite well...
Sometimes life is so busy with a small baby we forget to take the time to just stop and marvel at how amazingly beautiful they really are. Sunny days out are where special memories are made, they give us the chance to relax and relish this little person as they and we enjoy the sunshine - just don't forget the nappies and suncream!
Summer holidays. Two words which can evoke a variety of emotions. For teachers, a giddy sense of relief. For parents, the all too common clutch of dread mixed with guilt. For kids, pure thrill - hazy days stretch out before them, 6 weeks feeling like an eternity.
The take home message of any breastfeeding promo shouldn't seek to make mothers feel there is only one route. Simply put by Geraldine Miskin, author of Breastfeeding Made Easy, you have to bare in mind "it isn't always easy but all mums can do is their best, so they shouldn't be hard on themselves".
Our children's social care system faces significant challenges but by building on its strengths we can deliver a system that is well and truly up to the task of caring for the most vulnerable children in our society in a way that any good parent would.
A few days ago I overheard a dad tell his little boy "stop crying, you sound like a girl"; it got me thinking about how women are portrayed and, more specifically, what lessons am I teaching my son in my role as a "fit mum"? Here are the things I am striving to ALWAYS tell my son and any other child who knows me and my family:
I wrote this a while back but it seemed very apt to publish it today - I wonder how the EU referendum will change and shape the communities that we're...
How do you tell your 10-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter that their father has died? Is there a specific way? How can you make it sound right or even believable? It had happened suddenly. It was 15th July 2010 a warm summer's evening...
What if we always knew the truth we seek? It seems that at some point during our turbulent transition from child to adult we managed to unlearn the life lessons we came hard wired with.
When I was young, my family was very poor. Our home was very modest - one bedroom (my parents); one sitting room-cum-bedroom (my siblings and mine); a...
Working out how we all relate to each other as a family is just one more difficulty in the mountain of change that occurs when someone dies. I know that we will get there and I'm really glad we're close enough to work through these things together.
The rows of cards all about Dads made him smile and reminded him of Roger, but when I said to him why they were all there he fell silent and look tearful. 'What are we going to do if we haven't got a dad?' he asked me. 'I don't know love' is all I could say, wondering what on earth we would do when the day came around.
The urgent need for a gift for my husband has found me in a pottery cafe, yet again, ruining perfectly good mugs with our children's painted footprints. The irony is not lost on the toddler, who notes that I am less enthused about her handprints when they adorn the TV screen, the folding doors and my white shorts.