I promised myself once I'd had baby number two, I'd finally sort it out... Start looking after myself better; eating well, exercising regularly, drinking less wine at breakfast... and other such ridiculousness... *laughs manically whilst knocking back a shot of gin to the face*
We were financially not well-off in those days, given that I was a University student and my children's young father did not have a highly paid job. But we had something infinitely more precious than cold hard cash, and that was time plus the mindset to enjoy that time with our children.
I am so looking forward to getting to the stage where we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it's a way off, but with enough hard work anything is achievable, that much I know for certain.
We should encourage our girls to be just as boisterous as their male counterparts. We should teach them that just because they're girls it doesn't mean that they can't climb trees and eat mud. But, if they want to do so in a pink tutu and a tiara then I don't see a problem with that.
I'm not a perfectionist about everything - one look at the state my house is in most of the time can tell you that. But I can be hard on myself when I make mistakes. I have even been known to avoid a situation rather than risk making mistakes or making a wrong choice.
Birth doesn't always allow for a 'heads up' on what is likely to happen. Are we giving some women the idea that they will be in control of something that really is an unknown, just by calling it a 'Birth Plan'? We can only really be in control of how we respond to some events, not the events themselves.
Of course I totally support women who prefer to wear breastfeeding bibs to cover up when they are feeding. But it still begs the question, why do they feel the need to hide their breasts when they are simply keeping their child alive by feeding it?
After emerging from a cold and wet bank holiday weekend, here are some tried and tested suggestions to entertain the kids indoors without breaking the bank. Having a technology free day in favour of some quality time is the best way to take advantage of the rainy conditions.
Don't get me wrong - I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to be at home with my kids and I love it, most of the time. But recently I've been missing the part of me that existed before I became the bum-wiping, tantrum-soothing ninja I am today.
As Relate's new CEO I will make sure this report is used to continue to build our understanding of what people want and need from relationship support. And we are getting a very clear message from the stats - families need more help to get the balance between work and family life right.
You might think you've died and gone to heaven after having a baby and want another one straight away and you might think : never again! Both are acceptable.
While both my kids have pretty good language skills for their ages, there are a few things that I'm still struggling to help them to understand. Perhaps I need to learn to speak toddler? Despite my best and most patient attempts, the following concepts are proving particularly tricky for them to comprehend.
Bringing in waiting times for autism assessments would be a huge step forward for the 1 in 100 people on the autism spectrum in the UK. And it is achievable, even in an age of austerity. In fact, it is all the more necessary as the NHS tries to make savings.
I refused to leave until I got a follow up appointment. I got a follow-up appointment... During the ultrasound even we could see the absolutely enormous cancerous tumour on the screen, which had been growing in Luke's bladder the whole time.
When I ended up having an emergency caesarean it kind of took me by surprise. Mentally I had prepared myself for pushing my baby out but hadn't really given the ins and outs of a C-Section much thought. I kind of thought that if I needed one so be it. There was nothing much I could plan for. I was wrong.
Our friends went to our house and hid the pregnancy books, which I'd been reading just the night before we lost her. They took down the congratulations cards from the bookcase. My husband steeled himself to put the little pink dresses and frilly babygrows in the attic, so I wouldn't see them in the spare room.