10 Bonus points if you can make him burp…

It seems that absolutely every woman over the age of 50 who meets Otis is completely and utterly obsessed with making him burp. Anyone that succeeds in their quest awards themselves a medal and congratulates him on his wonderful achievement. If I burp however it is considered rude. I wonder at what age it switches?... Continue Reading →

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Letters from a Fan Girl

Letters from a fan girl. If you can't be honest at Christmas, when can you? Over the past year I've been lucky enough to discover some rockstar women who have touched me, moved me, revolutionised my life.. and this Christmas, I'm going to tell them! Hollie McNish- mother, poet, performer. A lovely friend bought me... Continue Reading →

Where’s the solidarity?

I'd consider myself to be fairly relaxed in my approach to raising Otis, so happily went ahead and joined a 'gentle parenting' group on facebook for a bit of love, support, advice, you know the deal. Having been feeling a bit lonely and pining for adult conversation, it seemed like a good start. Now, one... Continue Reading →

Blue Babies.

Baby blues. Blue babies. When you came Daddy cried. Nana cried: I didn't cry. They thrust you upon me, I couldn't see your face. 'Who are you?' I kept asking! 'Hello? Who are you! I don't know you! Who are you? Hello?' Those were the first words I said to you and I remember it... Continue Reading →

I am enough

Mummy blogs. I spend many of the small hours these days with a little one attached to the boob and a mummy blog open on the iPad. Mums all over the world have taken to the internet to worry, question and doubt their abilities. A feeling that resonates with me! I've pretty much questioned every... Continue Reading →

These are my tiger stripes.

These are my tiger stripes. I got them for being totally fierce and cooking up freaking human boy. We love them. Once a baby has arrived, it's easy to forget the journey we went through to make them, grown them and birth them! The baby makes you forget the birth, the birth makes you forget... Continue Reading →

Naming Oatcake

Ok, sure, he's not actually called Oatcake. That's just an affectionate nickname, that will probably stick and is already morphing into a host of cake based variations sure to embarrass him through his teens. He's Otis, officially, though still not registered, so we could technically still change our minds and go with Thor or Legend... Continue Reading →

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