Once I had recovered from the shock that the new fucking carpet was now a spew stinking carpet, I checked whether Joseph was ok and attempted to guide him into the bathroom.
We are more likely to teach our children about sex - especially the morality of it - that we often forget the much more important lesson in Adult Love, namely teaching them how to be in a loving adult relationship.
At 39 weeks pregnant I found I really needed some moral support and while my friends had offered to organise a baby shower for me it for some reason just didn't feel right. My doula had mentioned a Blessingway to me during our first meet.
For those who are less academic and more creative, a keen interest and ability in art can offer them a much needed acknowledgement. It can give them praise that they might have otherwise bypassed and can therefore boost self-esteem for those who thought that they were all but hopeless.
Little boy chose to lay on the floor hysterical for 40 minutes and I left him to it. Can we put children on eBay? Whispering 'I don't like him' on the phone to my mother the words barely formed on my tongue.
I was a newcomer in the World of Mothers, and the other Mothers knew it. With tales of breastfeeding woes and terrible births, of reassuring smiles and messages in the dead of night to tell me I was doing OK, the World of Mothers welcomed me with open arms.
This month, the slowdown in the oil and gas industry not only shook up the financial markets, but also had a knock on effect on the enrolment at international schools around the world.
Chatting to a mum-friend yesterday, (a mum friend is like a real friend but I only see her at sporting events where we converse between tuck-shop binges, episodes of eye rolls and FML mouthing).
We all want the best for our daughter, right? The intention is so strong yet sometimes we really need to check ourselves and become aware of how our words and our actions may be adversely shaping her reality. As a mum to two young girls, I am the first to notice how my words and actions may be limiting my girls.
As parents we cannot take all responsibility all the time for the meaning our children create from everything they experience, but we can support them to feel loved and to create more feelings of love in their life.
Last week, I became a grandmother for the third time. Yet again I had the amazing experience of thinking 'ah, there you are' whilst holding a new baby for the very first time; a brand new person who is nevertheless somehow familiar, as if a close relative had just arrived home after a long trip abroad.
How long did it take you to find me and then to troll me online? Maybe when I was doing a workout? It probably took the same time.
His next reaction was annoyance at his own reaction. He was annoyed and surprised that he had felt this way. And then, when he told me, I wanted my own reaction to be annoyance. At him. And disappointment. After all, I am a mum. A full time mum. Hello! Why would he feel that this wasn't enough?
These tales carry warnings, messages about how human beings can live together and encouragement to overcome obstacles. That's why wise old women told them. But children listened because these tales are exciting. They're dramatic and vivid, they give us everything we want and need from stories.
Anyway - despite the fact that I regularly write a blog I have been reluctant to call myself a blogger as I feel a bit of a fraud somehow. If I was a real blogger shouldn't I have a proper camera, a monochrome house and some petals to decorate my meals with? Or at the very minimum half a clue how to update a plug-in... but anyway, I am a blogger.
And thousands of women don't fight back. They need their jobs - not only for the money, but also because they love their careers and have worked hard to develop them. But they may be afraid to 'make a fuss'. They may not have the money, the confidence or the emotional reserves required in order to engage in a legal battle.
When we were finally able to bring them home, it was a pretty surreal feeling. Gone were the nurses and doctors. It was just us now. I remember sitting on the sofa in front of these two precious, tiny babies and thinking, 'now what?'
We've had some of our happiest times here, but what is now the fabric of everyday life will eventually become threads of memories (you may, of course, have a better capacity for remembering things than me - I'm blaming sleep deprivation, and the latter part of the nineties).