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After yesterday’s confession about the Day I Shot A Man, it’s day five out of seven of the Keep Britain Breastfeeding Scavenger Hunt and today we’re talking about something I’m an old hand at now. It’s breastmilk pumping. If you normally read my blog and the breast discussions are not your thing, please be advised…
UNDERCOVER MOTHER
My love affair with Gin is nearly as long as my love affair with my husband, and began (and nearly ended) at my 18th birthday party in March 1994. Raised in the Midlands on a weekend TV cocktail of James Bond movies (Saturday nights) and Formula One racing (Sunday afternoons), when I reached the grand old age…
FRIENDSHIP…MAKING THE TIME [ZONE] FOR COFFEE….
In the September of 1994, following a long, humid Summer of dancing to All-4-One in our local hotspot at night and spending most of my parents’ hard earned money on new duvet covers, pots, pans, warm sweaters and a perm to rival Tina Turner by day, my family packed way more than the kitchen sink…
THE COMPLIMENT
This weekend was exhausting. By the time we were travelling back from the Midlands, trundling down the motorway at 11pm with the boys strapped into their seats and slumbering away, I felt like my eyelids were weighing me to the floor. On Saturday alone, by the end of the day – which began at 5.30…

