Talking About Death With A Four-Year-Old.

“I'll always be able to count on you, won't I mummy?” Freya asked. We were sat at the dining table where she was drawing before dinner. “Of course. Always.” I answered, gently rubbing her back. She looked up from her work and smiled sweetly. What a lovely mother/daughter moment. “Not when you’re dead,” she added. … Continue reading Talking About Death With A Four-Year-Old.

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Life begins at 40 so they say – and I’m starting to think they might be right.

Perhaps it is because I have to face it now that I'm staring down the barrel of 40 (one month today) but I've come to the conclusion that I've been looking at this age thing all wrong. While I did a fairly good impression of not caring (at least until someone mentioned it), I admit … Continue reading Life begins at 40 so they say – and I’m starting to think they might be right.

January 2016 – where my wussiness reaches new levels.

Twenty hours of labour with a 10lb 3oz baby the wrong way round and clearly stuck with just a Paracetamol for pain relief? No problem. You want to inject local anesthetic several times just a millimetre from my eye? I won't even flinch. A painless MRI scan? I'll hyperventilate and then cry like you've just told … Continue reading January 2016 – where my wussiness reaches new levels.